#it turns down the lights on the dashboard

[sadyeehaw]

I have done the worst and also best thing to my car. I'm so proud of myself.

[gutsby]

Waiting Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel Miller has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.

Warnings: 18+. Protected p-in-v. Praise. Overstimulation. Sweet, possessive, slightly obsessive and pussywhipped Joel. Daddy kink. Drug use. Angst. Accidental creampie. Joel fucking you while on the phone with your father.

Part 2 | Part 3

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad presses. A hint of concern rises from his end of the line.

At length, Joel grips both of your legs and brings them up over his shoulders, and he grins before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelp as you crush the phone to your ear, hoping your father can’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

Aside from the fact that he smoked like a chimney and bumped far more Billy Joel than any man ever should, Mr. Miller was an A-OK friend—your father’s best friend.

All you needed was a ride home for the holidays.

From the second you’d set foot in his old Ford Bronco, you sensed this trek wouldn’t be an enjoyable one—thirty-hour road trips rarely ever were—but you leaned back in the passenger seat, propped your feet on the dashboard, and bopped along to ‘You May Be Right’ for the fifty-fifth fucking time that morning and smiled.

Joel frowned.

“Dogs off the dash,” he muttered, swatting at your bare, polished toes before you kicked his touch away.

“Shotgun puts her feet up, driver shuts his cakehole.”

That wasn’t even how the saying went. Oh well.

Joel slowed the car to sixty in the right-hand lane and smacked your ankles even harder. You yelped.

“Hey! You can’t hit a woman!”

“I’m not hitting a woman, I’m hitting a little gremlin,” Joel tried not to grin as he delivered another tart slap to your foot, and you almost jerked into the passenger door.

He momentarily righted the car before it went veering into the lane beside it, seized one of your feet, and tried to forcibly shove it off the dashboard, to no avail. As soon as he moved one limb, the other would glide right back up to take its place; Joel’s hands were big, but they weren’t massive enough to grab hold of both of your legs at once and make you stay the fuck there, Christ’s sake.

You liked to see him flustered. Brought a whole new hue to his tough, stubbled cheeks that folks rarely got to see. You squirmed in your seat when he reached for your side.

“Wh—NO! No tickling!” you cried, trying your hardest to roll away.

But the man was nothing if not a lover of cheap shots and filthy antics. He’d never played a clean game in his life and wasn’t about to start now.

His gaze darted from the road to your writhing form, pinned against the door and begging him to stop, while he pressed his foot harder on the gas and smirked.

“Too much?” he teased, “Say pretty, pretty please.”

In other words: give up. You would do no such thing. Your elbow jutted out to the side and clipped his fingertips sharply, and right before he could reach for you again, you were heaving yourself up and leaning almost halfway out the open window, trying to shy away from his touch.

“You fuckin’ nuts?! Get down!” he yelled.

“But it just may be a luuuunatic you’re lookin’ for!” you sang along to your old friend Billy Joel and pretended not to see, or hear, Joel Miller twisting desperately across the center console to take hold of your belt loops.

“Get—I swear to God, kid—DOWN!”

Joel had just managed to finagle a loose, feeble grip on your denim waistband as he tried to keep the car from soaring across three lanes of traffic, was just about to yank you back inside and give you a red-faced, fatherly lecture of a lifetime, when a sound startled you both.

A siren, and a set of flashing blue lights behind you.

You scrambled back in your seat and swallowed a lump in your throat the size of a peach. You turned off Mr. Long Island.

“Great! Good fucking going,” Joel griped beside you as he flicked on his blinker and started to pull off the road.

Dogs no longer on the dash—and a very pissed off cop pulling up behind your car on the shoulder of the road—you got the feeling this would be a long couple of days.

You hadn’t even made it outside the city limits of Boston.

Somewhere between Richmond and Roanoke, the two of you turned off the highway to find a place to sleep.

Joel had sat and stewed and ignored you for the customary duration of about two hours before choosing to re-engage in conversation, but deep down, you knew he was still kind of irked by that reckless driving citation he’d received. You couldn’t help but feel responsible.

Though it had been pretty funny when the state trooper had approached the car and pointedly asked, “What the hell was your daughter doin’ danglin’ outta this thing?!” Joel was nowhere near as amused as you, but he managed to roll with it and told the cop you were just trying to wave to the cows in the fields passing by.

The police officer hadn’t bought it.

He probably would have arrested you both if you hadn’t been such a coquettish flirt and somehow managed to persuade the man to let your ‘dad’ off with just a ticket.

You had hoped that would temper Joel’s anger some, but if anything, the sight only seemed to make him more mad at you. You weren’t sure why.

Presently, you pulled up to Balmaceda’s Mountain Lodge and cast a bleak look at the front office before you.

This looked nothing like the snug, homespun mountain retreat you’d been picturing in your mind. Ahead of your car, there stood a single-story concrete slab of a motel, tilted to one side and consumed almost entirely by the dark of night and wide open wilderness. A big block letter neon sign displaying the owner’s name in red now barely flickered above a muddied, pinkish glow. You groaned.

But before you could complain to your travel companion, Joel was already stepping out of the car and heading toward the main office. Hastily, you followed after.

“No way, Miller. No fucking way are we staying in Murder Motel,” you hissed.

“Bal-ma-ceda’s,” Joel intoned with a maddeningly accurate lilt, ignoring your protests, “I think that’s a Chilean name.”

He swung the door wide for you to enter and pretended not to see you shoot him a glare as you strolled in.

“Needin’ a room?”

The lady behind the counter barely graced your entrance with a look.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you got,” Joel replied, smiling.

“Smoking or non?”

“Smoking, please.”

Of course he would. You could already feel the fetid stench of American Spirits wafting up to your nostrils.

“King or two Queens?”

“Queens,” you and Joel answered in unison.

At first, the woman nodded, flicked through a rolodex on her desk and nosed through a couple yellowed pages in front of her. Then, frowning, she looked back up.

“Sorry. All the Queens are took up. Rest of the rooms are being fumigated but the one—” she tapped a manicured nail on the motel map, “—and it’s got a King. That okay?”

No. No, it was not. You opened your mouth to speak but were shortly cut off by the woman before you could.

“Of course, if you don’t want dad hoggin’ up all the sheets, there’s a pull-out sofa for him to sleep on.”

The sixty-something desk clerk offered a smile, and you likely would’ve returned the favor if you hadn’t been so deeply nauseated at the thought of everyone around you assuming that Joel was your father. You chanced a look at the man, who seemed equally uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You sighed.

“Alright.”

Defeated, but marginally pleased that you wouldn’t have to share a bed with your ‘old man’ that night.

Joel paid and signed the papers without another word, or look, to you or the woman. By the looks of it, he just wanted to book the room and get the hell out as fast as possible, his brow pinched inward and lips zipped tight.

He’d turned to leave so quick that he was almost approaching the door when the lady called out,

“Mr. Miller! You forgot your keys.”

You hardly needed to steal a glance in Joel’s direction to see that he was flushed. Even blushing a bit.

You strode over to the counter and intercepted the keys she was dangling for someone to take, then politely, finally, were able to manage a smile and a thank-you.

You turned back to Joel.

“Here you go, Daddy.”

In a blink, the small silver set was pelted in his hands, and the man nearly dropped them—and lost his balance. By some miracle, Joel managed to catch them between his big sweaty palms and step aside just in time for you to saunter past him, straight through the door.

“I’m starved,” you announced, then, averting your face to hide your smug expression and lower your voice a bit, “Feed me, Daddy.”

In that moment, Joel thanked every last one of his lucky stars that his pants were made of denim, and that the denim itself was thick. And that the woman at the front desk was swift to turn her attention back to her tabloid magazine, away from you two, and didn’t look up again.

If they weren’t, and if she hadn’t, it would’ve been plain as day to see that Joel Miller was sporting a hard-on.

A huge, swollen hard-on that made it almost impossible for him to walk and haul luggage and try to keep apace with your steps as you sailed along the gravel drive. So big the man had to will himself not to limp, not to make it known how stiff he was, until he eventually failed at both.

Once you’d grabbed your bags back at the car and made it up to your place, you entered Room 102 with a lightness you hadn’t felt all day. Joel slogged behind with all of the baggage and a boner beneath his jeans that probably could’ve cut sheet metal, if needed.

He was fucked. No doubt he’d have to enlist in the Witness Protection Program after your real father found out that his best friend had gotten visibly bricked up for you, his one and only daughter. How awkward holiday dinners were bound to be from that point on; how humiliating it seemed to him to pop a chub at a thing as dumb as saying ‘daddy’; how batshit insane it was that he hadn’t gotten laid in almost a year, and you were still, somehow, the only one he wanted to break the dry spell.

Joel was better than this. A fucking pro at self-control and all things dirty old guys didn’t do. He could chill out.

He just needed to rub one out in the bathroom, fast.

So, while you flopped down on the bed, Joel dropped every bag and made a beeline for the toilet. Slammed the door so hard he probably could’ve knocked the thing off its hinges, but he didn’t care. He was wrestling his belt, button, and zip off in a second. Then haphazardly turning on the sink to mask the sounds of all that was to come. No pun intended.

He yanked his thick, throbbing, rock-hard member out of its confines and had to hiss through his teeth to keep from moaning. The sensitivity he felt was unbearable, the front of his boxers already painted with pre-cum.

Gingerly, Joel wrapped one hand around his cock and raised the other to anchor himself against the sink. He slid his palm, which he’d just barely lubricated with some spit of his, up and down the shaft and groaned. A welt of pleasure formed in his chest, and he rubbed even faster. And, in spite of his legs feeling a bit like jelly, he stood there and fucked his fist and wished with every bit of himself that it was your warm, lush folds opening around him instead. Stifled a groan and would’ve paid any sum of money to hear your moans spilling out while he thrusted. The act here was more mindless and reflexive than anything else—jerking himself and soaking in the sharp, fiery sensations that shot up through his body.

To him, at least, it was all purely physical. Mechanical.

Nowhere near as euphoric and otherworldly as it would have been with your hand actually curled around him.

Or your lips. Or your tongue. Or your tight, wet cunt.

Fuck, he needed a shower.

Blindly, Joel moved inside the tub to his left and yanked the curtain shut over a space almost two times too small for his frame. He turned on the water and made it hot. Then he fisted his cock again, pressed his head to the shower wall, and pumped himself as fast as his forearm would allow him—trying all the while not to think of you.

You, with all your wily, shrewd ways were still the daughter of the man who guzzled down IPAs with him at the local dive bar every Thursday night over jalapeño poppers and buffalo dip. The man who clapped him over the shoulder and shook his frame with the kind of good-natured sneer that only a best friend could make, ‘A man as suave as you oughta get some tail every now and then. Go find you a gal and fuck her brains out, Joel!’

But the only ‘gal’ Joel wanted to rail was the one who called that man ‘dad’—and just called him ‘daddy’ for the first time that night—and he hated himself for it.

Sparks of pleasure continued to ignite across his lower half as he jerked himself in the shallowest, short pumps. He flicked his hand back and forth, circled the tip with his palm, and felt a groan start to claw at his throat. He tried to picture any face but yours but failed miserably.

All he could think, see, or breathe was you—imagining your lips enveloping the head of his cock, jerking him softly, taking him down to the back of your throat and bobbing that pretty little face up and down his length.

That sweaty, desperate fist of his just wasn’t cutting it.

For the first time, Joel couldn’t make himself cum.

Now even more pent-up and pussywhipped than he’d been when he first started, he slammed his palm against the wall and flung the shower handle in the opposite direction—turning the water as cold as it could get.

Five minutes passed, and the icy spray had scarcely left a dent in his raging erection. Joel stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his hips, and stood in front of the mirror to see that he was still very hard.

Fuck this.

He bunched his strewn aside clothing together and held it over his crotch, discreet as he could, and waddled out.

And, either the temperature inside had just jumped fifty degrees or the world outside had just caught fire, but Joel’s face was flooded with heat the second he exited.

You were sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but a thin white tank, shorts, and fuzzy socks—and a scowl.

“Sofa’s broke,” you said.

Joel blinked.

“Broke?”

You nodded toward the busted sleeper couch at the far end of the room, torn to pieces and kicked a half-dozen times since you’d tried unfolding it in Joel’s absence.

The jaws of the old steel frame had simply refused to give way, and now the sofa was so out of sorts and misshapen that you had no hope of putting it back the way that it was. You sank further in the bed and pointed to the floor.

“You can sleep there.”

Joel eyed a flat sheet and a pillow laid across the carpet, visibly coated in dust and grime. He turned back to you.

“You’re smokin’ crack if you think I’m doin’ that.”

“Be grateful I’m not making you sleep in the car, daddy.”

Again with that fucking name. Joel tightened his grip on the clothes he was holding over his dick and tried to fight a thousand dirty thoughts threatening to seep back into his head.

Unfortunately, the dirty thoughts had hands—and were beating his ass to a bloody pulp when he first caught sight of your nipples poking up through your shirt. Just when the man might have started to drool or else begun humping that pile of clothes, you snapped your fingers.

“Miller Lite. Eyes up here.”

Fuck.

“Got a…stain on your shirt,” he grumbled in his defense.

“Shut up. Now, we can flip for the bed if you want.”

By turns, Joel’s focus was slowly coming back, and the man was trying like hell to find a place on your face that didn’t arouse him to no end—to help ease the intrusive thoughts and all. So far his search had yielded nothing.

“Like, uh…coin?” he asked. Endearingly stupid.

“Heads, I win,” you said, nodding, “Tails…”

Joel swallowed.

“Tails, what?”

“Tails, you tell me what was going on in your head when you were jacking off to the thought of me just now.”

Your words came out in a hurry, almost too quick for Joel to comprehend. He still heard them, though, and nearly choked on his spit when he tried to swallow again.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” you bit back, “I heard you moan my name.”

Joel didn’t remember that. Joel didn’t remember much of anything that had taken place in that bathroom apart from being implacably horny and unable to bust a nut. You stepped off the bed to stand in front of him.

“What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” you sneered, “Think I’m just gonna run off and tell my da—”

“Don’t,” Joel’s response was immediate, insistent. Then, setting his jaw in a way you knew too well, contemplating about fifty different thoughts in the span of two seconds, he pressed the clothes pile to his crotch even tighter and sighed, “Don’t…do that, please. I’ll take the floor.”

You raised both brows, mildly amused.

“I said we could flip for it. C’mon,” you said.

“Ain’t got any coins.” Joel was already retreating to his makeshift sleeping pad on the floor, eyeing the shag carpet for any traces of blood, piss, or rodent droppings. Before he made it too far, you reached for his arm.

Joel tensed under your touch.

“We can try something else.” Your voice was cloying, almost too sweet to be trusted.

It had just dawned on you then how bare the man standing before you was. Clad in only his towel, every taut, toned inch of Joel’s body was there on display—coated with sweat and a fine sheen from the shower, his skin practically shone in the glow of the bedside lamp. You watched him shift in place and saw the towel around his hips stir along with it. He never let those old clothes in his hands move an inch away from his groin, though.

“What game?” he asked.

“Something my roommates showed me,” you began, “‘Too Hot.’”

“Too Hot?”

“You heard me.”

“What, like— like Spin the Bottle, or some bullshit?”

Joel could just picture it: a gaggle of your college pals huddled around an old, empty bottle of Bud Light as you watched it turn circles again, and again, and again on the dorm’s linoleum floor. You tugging at the sleeve of some oversized man-child from a frat Joel couldn’t name, leaning in and beaming like the insatiable flirt he knew you to be, asking that boy if he wanted to sneak off somewhere and let his tongue take a tour of your mouth.

The thought made Joel’s stomach turn.

Presently, you wrinkled your nose up at him.

“Spin the Bottle? That’s rookie shit,” you made another face reminding Joel, once more, how little he knew of the life you lived 1,900 miles away from Austin, at college.

He still couldn’t shake the thought of those boys.

“No, Joel,” you shook your head, drawing your syllables out for effect, “‘Too Hot’ is just…edging your opponent.”

Joel’s throat tightened, and he tried not to let his eyes widen too much, but he was almost certain they had. Before he even knew the words he was saying, the thought of your father taking his fist—or a shotgun—to his face made him blurt out in response, stammering,

“We can’t— I can’t— can’t lay one finger on you, darlin’, you know that. Your dad would murder me.”

To his surprise, the smile on your face only widened.

“Bingo,” You stuck one pretty finger in his face like he’d made the world’s finest discovery, “You can’t touch me.”

“Huh?”

“That’s the whole fuckin’ game, Miller. We can kiss, but we can’t touch each other with our hands. First one to crack and grope the other player loses the game.”

Your expression now was something just shy of sadistic. Watching him with keen, narrowed eyes and a wicked little grin, it seemed you were half-expecting him to fold on the spot. No way was this a game your college friends taught you; you just wanted to play him. Make him lose.

And Joel was a man who couldn’t stand to lose, no matter the stakes.

You watched that failure-averse glint eclipse every shade of lust in his eyes, at least momentarily. Suddenly, Joel didn’t look so fearful of your father’s wrath or what lurid implications this night might bring—he just had to win.

“You suck, you know that?” he said, at last, dropping his makeshift shield from the front of his towel and knocking you flat on the bed with a single push.

“You wish I would,” you grumbled, heart still jumping up in your ribcage all the same. You scooted back.

“I bet you will.”

The man was a menace when he had the will to be.

At length, Joel crawled over your body and made room for himself snug between your legs. The bulge that he’d been trying to hide all this time was now heavy on your center, pressed tight to your stupid-thin shorts and the panties you’d conveniently forgotten to wear. He grinned.

“Are tongues allowed?” he hummed.

“Everything but hands,” you shrugged.

Try as you might to play it cool with him, though, every fibre of your being was alight with desire for the man on top of you. You flitted a look between his soft brown eyes and slightly parted lips and could’ve melted in that bed had Joel not lowered his head and dove right in for it.

His mouth was far gentler than expected. Reverent, even. He slotted his lips between your own and made a fine, delicate showing of just how tender and adept he could be while imparting his slow, sweet kisses. Skirted his tongue across your bottom lip before driving it inside, coaxed your mouth open to him in a matter of seconds. He was graceful. And patient. And lithe with that tongue.

Joel Miller was showing off for you—the bastard.

“Sweet little thing,” he groaned against your mouth, “Ain’t felt a tongue this shy on mine in a long time.”

Of course he’d try taunting you, too. Same old Joel.

“What’s it been? Two years since a woman let you touch her?”

“Twenty since I felt one this good.”

You would’ve liked to reach around the back of his head and seize a clump of that thick, dark, grey-speckled hair. But you couldn’t. Your hands remained plastered to the duvet beneath you, and then, just slightly, your fingers started to curl inward. Joel’s palms laid flat on either side of your head.

It felt weird; mashing lips, teeth, and tongue with a man who’d been alive about twenty years longer than you and went further back with your father than you could even remember. What felt even stranger was the fact that you couldn’t touch him, or take him between your two hands.

Joel’s tongue continued roaming every contour and crevice of your mouth like he had an ache for this taste that he just couldn’t quench. Your tongue tried keeping up, too, but frankly, you were too preoccupied by a pulse between your legs—your parts and Joel’s practically throbbing in time with one another—to work just as hard.

Even through the towel, he felt huge.

You whined when Joel started to grind up against you, and shortly, those fingers of yours that had just been grazing the sheets before were gripping them. Tight.

“Earlier…” Joel murmured between kisses, hips working a vicious pace against you, “You said you were hungry.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry—starved,” he corrected himself, and you almost could’ve smacked him for being so smug about it.

“What’s your point, Miller?” You were fisting the sheets beneath your palms and gyrating your whole body to meet the motions of the man currently dry-humping you.

All of a sudden, Joel’s movements stopped.

He peered down at you with a curious look.

“I could go for something to eat, too,” he declared.

You blinked. Stared. And just when you’d opened your mouth to say, well, maybe you should’ve grabbed us a bite to eat when we passed that Burger King on the way in, dipshit, Joel’s torso started to move down your own. Slow and painstaking as ever as he made sure not to graze one inch of your skin with his hands while he did.

You leapt back against the headboard, almost cracking your skull on the wood.

“Joel— Joel,” you hissed as the heels of your feet dug into the mattress below, and Joel just sank even further.

Then he was slowly, scrupulously pinching the fabric of your shorts between each index finger and thumb, gaze trained close on your lower half to make sure he never touched you, and he started pulling it down.

“This isn’t—” you started again, only to be offered a soft shush and an even quieter rustle of the cotton material sliding down both your legs.

You dropped your head on a pillow and probably could’ve burned a hole in the ceiling with the wide-eyed look you fixed on one spot, in utter disbelief of what he was doing.

“No panties, huh?” Joel observed. Gentle puffs of his breath were now fanning across the whole bare expanse of your lower half, and your pyjama bottoms were shortly discarded. His face was just hovering there, and you could tell that he knew you knew by the way he lowered his voice and brought his head to have only the tips of his chin stubble grazing your abdomen, “You needed this.”

Some lone remnant of ire flashed in your eyes.

“I don’t need shit from you, Miller. You need me. And you’re gonna lose this.”

Even though your gaze was still trained to the ceiling, you could feel him grin against your delicate skin.

“Hey,” he mumbled, “You said tongues are fair game.”

Fuck me, you wanted to keen the second his lips made contact with your…lower ones, and Joel swiftly got to kissing you there just as he’d done to you above. Hot, soft, and tender as the first rays of morning sun heralding a new day, he sponged his lips across the seam of your heat and made as if to massage the place, gently.

You could hear as well as you could feel that effusion of desire leaking out of your cunt and pooling around the man’s mouth. How eager he was to lap it up with his tongue, to grace your ears with those delectable squelching sounds, he caressed every inch between your folds and only sank deeper when you whined above him.

“Joel.”

Right now you couldn’t look down. Not with the way your legs were already trembling around his head, your chest heaving with the fastest, most frenzied breaths. You’d sooner die before you watched him unravel you like this.

“Darlin’, you’ve got a man soaked.” Some sound almost resembling a chuckle reverberated between your thighs and sent a brand new shockwave of pleasure in its wake, “You like it when daddy uses his mouth on this needy, wet cunt, don’t you?”

Yes, yes, you did. But your answer was nonverbal: a sharp curl of your toes and a grip between your fingers so tight across the sheets that he saw you veritably could’ve torn the linens in two.

Neither of you had laid a hand on the other.

Joel was perfectly content to make do with his mouth for now.

“Got those sheets all balled up, you’re fixin’ to rip ‘em.”

“My tongue make ya feel that good, honey?”

“Poor thing can’t even breathe it feels so nice, right?”

So he’d seen you hiccup, try to steady your breaths, and fail before succumbing to a string of lewd moans. Joel saw you, and knew how you felt, as if he’d had his own secret gauge for how good his mouth was doing you in.

Surely, he could’ve sensed the words before they ever came out of your mouth.

“Touch me, Joel, please.”

His tongue was just then making a lazy circuit around your clit, mouth saturated in your juices, when he smiled.

“Nah.”

Curt and cruel as ever. Then:

“No matter how fuckin’ perfect this pussy is, I ain’t losin’.”

He completed the arc with his tongue and took your bud between his lips, sucking in. You almost screamed.

“Motherfucker.”

“Miller, baby, Miller. Close, though.”

And just when you thought he’d had his fill of cheeky games, Joel sucked your clit even harder and flicked the tip of his tongue against your bundle of nerves until you were writhing, crying on the bed above him,

“JoelbabypleasebabyfuckmefuckohfuckitfeelsoGOOD.”

It was a bit tough to decipher through your strangled, desperate moans, but Joel got the picture. Heeding your requests, he kept at that pace above your clit and slid his tongue back and forth, over and over, lapping up your honeyed glaze like it was the finest thing he’d tasted. Scruff harsh against your thighs, lips soft in a perfect suction, Joel Miller had your head swimming in desire and your better judgment dissipating before your eyes.

At the first sign of bliss, your muscles clenched, and the last linchpin of your resolve crumbled right along with it.

You carded your hands through Joel’s hair and grabbed hold of those locks with a full-throated moan, using his head for shameless leverage to buck and rut your hips into his face as you rode out the peaks of your high.

And, ever the gentleman, Joel fought like hell to keep his lips and tongue connected to your core while you writhed above him—this time at liberty to work his arms under your thighs and hold them since you’d given up the game. He would’ve smiled if he weren’t so narrowly preoccupied, seeing you thrash about and moan out loud and fuck his face like it was the last thing tethering you to earth. He liked seeing you come undone beneath him.

A bit too much, if he were being completely honest.

While you made the languid descent from ecstasy and your breaths were still slowing in your chest on the bed, Joel was back on his feet. Padding toward the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind him as he had before. When he returned in a minute or two, he was clothed. He fished for his keys in the pockets of his snug, stonewash Wranglers and made a face. He didn’t look at you.

“I’ll be back,” he said, starting toward the door.

“Back?” You sat up, perplexed, “The hell ya goin’?”

“Out.”

This motherfucker.

“Did I miss something? Were we not just seconds away from getting down to some how’s-your-father?”

Joel visibly grimaced at your choice of sex slang. Under the circumstances, you would concede it wasn’t ideal.

“O-kay, sorry,” you returned, crossing your legs out in front of you, “I mean…don’t you want me to get you off?”

Again, Joel’s expression twisted into something just shy of overwrought, weary, and repulsed—a look that you couldn’t begin to understand, for the life of you—and you watched him flit his eyes from the bed to the door, again and again, seeming to be pining for the sweet release of leaving your shared motel room as soon as possible.

You’d been with your fair share of emotionally avoidant fucksticks, but most of them didn’t ghost until after they’d gotten their nut and felt no reason to stick around. Joel’s exit seemed premature. Strange.

“So you don’t want to fuck?” you asked, deadpan. You’d never been one for beating around the bush.

“Can’t,” Joel shook his head, bringing one hand to rest on his hip while the other fiddled uncomfortably with his car keys, “Your dad…that’s just— that’s crossing a line.”

“And being nose-deep in my cunt isn’t?”

You stared him down, incredulous.

So now he decides to claim the moral high ground, after coaxing you to soak every inch of his beard and cum all over his tongue? How very fucking charitable of him.

“That’s different,” Joel retorted, rubbing his knuckles in a nervous tic, “That was a game. I won. We’re done.”

You set your jaw just tight enough to keep your tongue in check and refrained from firing off a brash, unsavory remark. It wouldn’t do either of you a lick of good.

You let him leave. Joel had told you that you could keep the bed, he didn’t mind, and then he slipped out the door without another word. Leaving you cold and alone on the soiled, tawdry floral bedspread of Room 102, wondering what the hell had gone so wrong in the span of the last five minutes. From the center of the bed, you could see Joel’s Bronco pull off into the silent, frigid night.

You were still hungry as shit.

Rolling onto your side and rummaging through the bags at the end of the bed, you found nothing even remotely edible—save for, literally, one of Joel’s brownie edibles—and you groaned out loud. You threw your shorts back on, stepped into your old Luccheses, and did a quick circuit around the room to find your jacket before you left. As it turned out, you’d forgotten it back in Joel’s car.

You dropped to your knees and went back to tearing through luggage, searching for some suitable outerwear.

By the end of that second suitcase foray, though, you found you had nothing of your own that was hefty enough to brave the below-freezing temperatures outside, so you had to settle on a dark brown, fleece-lined coat from Joel’s bag. It was durable enough but about four sizes too big—and reeked of cigarette smoke.

You trudged outside, not really knowing where you were going or what you were hoping to find. Your stomach growled, and a few cool gusts of wind came to lap at the bare skin of your thighs where Joel’s spit was still drying.

You stepped a few feet out and turned toward the road.

Bal-ma-ceda’s, you read the seedy neon sign and heard Joel’s enunciation of the name ring between your ears.

What you wouldn’t give for the greasiest, girthiest, barely-FDA-approved 7-Eleven corndog to kill your thoughts about that sleazy little fucker right now.

You started toward the convenience store across the street but quickly found that it was closed—along with every other establishment on that stretch of road. You glanced toward the front office and caught a glimpse of your old friend dozing behind the counter. The speakers outside were playing a tinny rendition of ‘Piano Man.’

Just as you tried not to barf in your mouth at the sound and silently primed yourself for a long, long trek through the boonies to the nearest gas station, you stopped.

In a compact little breezeway that cleaved the motel in two, you saw light pool around an old vending machine.

You almost fell over yourself trying to get to it.

Never mind the fact that there were about half a dozen ragtag teens decked out in camouflage and comically tattered denim cutoffs crowding the area. All absently smoking and blowing o’s, or else sipping on cans of beer in the cramped, concrete passage, they looked bored. A couple lazy smiles broke out upon seeing your approach.

You nodded back and sidled up to the snack dispenser.

Then you zeroed in on the first sugar-packed products you could find: a pack of sour gummy worms and a bottle of Sprite—no, Mountain Dew—and a chocolate bar. Maybe a bag of Cheetos or Fritos thrown in for good measure. All of the snacks were probably stale as shit and hadn’t seen a replacement since dinosaurs roamed the earth, but you didn’t care. You were prying singles out of your wallet and salivating before you could think.

“Gotta kick it a couple times ‘fore it’ll spit anything out,” one of the boys lounging around you piped up.

You’d just inserted a couple bills and were waiting for the machine to dispense your gummy worms, when the thing appeared to stall. Stuck in its tracks, like he’d said.

You raised a brow and tapped the toe of your boot to the appliance, turning toward the one who’d addressed you,

“Like this?”

“Nope. Nuh-uh.” The redhead got up and strode over, where his much bigger, square-toed boot delivered a kick to the vending machine that almost toppled it.

A bag of Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers dropped out.

The kid—who actually happened to be nineteen years old and a student at some college a few states away, along with his whole group of friends—was kind enough to repeat the same ritual for all of your treats. You’d just gathered your stuff together and were about to thank him for his services, when the guy presently stuck a hand in your direction and introduced himself as Connor.

Then Blake. Then Micah. Then Wyatt. Then Trent. All traveling with their team for a tournament that weekend.

Then a beer was held out to you. You declined. A little homemade deer jerky? No, thanks. How ‘bout some Oreos? I’m good on snacks, really. Well, shit, you seem a little high-strung, why don’t you take a hit right here? And Connor pulled his dab pen out from his pocket.

Well.

You hadn’t smoked in a minute. You might’ve decided to take a bite out of Joel’s brownie back in the room, but you hadn’t known how strong it was—or where the fuck he’d gotten it. The pen this stranger was offering you was one that looked similar enough to the kinds you’d seen passed among your friends a hundred times before that you felt comfortable taking one hit, maybe. Two max.

You felt stupid as soon as you’d sucked in every breath, but you ended up taking four hits in total.

You hacked and sputtered and blinked up at Connor, who was grinning big.

“Alright, hardass,” he chuckled, taking back the device.

“Daddy know you smoke?” Wyatt cut in with a sneer.

Daddy?

There was no fucking way Joel looked that old for everyone to think he was your father. You inwardly cringed.

“Y’all been spying on us?”

“Ain’t shit else to do around here.” That was Blake.

You tried to swallow but found your throat much drier than it had been before. And not just from the weed.

“He doesn’t care,” you said, managing a shrug.

It wasn’t entirely false. Joel did give no fucks about you.

“Dude looks like a— a fuckin’ DEA agent or something,” Micah said, amused.

“Like that guy from Narcos,” Trent snickered.

You’d never seen the show and didn’t particularly care to know what law enforcement archetype Joel appeared to embody—in fact, you didn’t want to discuss him at all.

Just as the first fuzzy beads of warmth began to roll into your head, you were already planning your exit strategy. Thank Connor for his selfless assistance and cannabis, bid the group a good night and the best of luck in their upcoming lax tournament, and be done with this shit, ASAP. You were still trying to steady your tongue in the bone-dry cavern that had become your mouth when one of them kicked at a near-empty case of beer at their feet.

“We’re about out.” Micah announced.

Seconds later, Connor was turning to you.

“Wanna…restock in our room?” he asked, the corners of his lips twisting into a smile as he looked down at you.

You crinkled your nose and shook your head. Connor leaned his whole weight against the vending machine between you, seeming unconvinced by your answer.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, “I think you wanna come.”

“Do I?”

You only entertained the backtalk because your brain was currently swimming in a far-off, pleasant void of contentment and indifference. Every sharp edge dulled in your mind, to an extent, and your body at ease. You didn’t have to be home to anyone, anytime, and Joel was probably halfway plastered at a dive bar down the road. You didn’t move back when Connor stepped forward.

He wasn’t even that close. You could leave whenever you pleased.

“For sure. I think you’d enjoy our shitty beer and even shittier company. We can smoke some more, too.”

The man certainly had a way with words. He muscled in a bit closer.

“You think so?” you hummed.

“I do. I really do.”

“And you’re willing to risk the wrath of my dad if he finds out where I am?” You made it sound like a challenge.

“Wyatt can fight.”

Connor motioned toward his friend, who was mindlessly chomping on deer jerky in his lawn chair off to the side, glossy-eyed and hammered. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, but make sure he’s ready. I can only stay for five.”

Connor seemed wounded as he put a hand over his heart in mock dismay.

“Only five minutes?” he griped, “Why not ten? Or twenty?”

“Six.”

“Fifteen at least.”

You folded your arms over your chest and felt an opaque haze beginning to settle over your brain. It wasn’t quite a high, just a lightness of being that drove tender little streaks up your spine. Like Joel, tickling at your sides while you writhed around in the front seat of his car.

This time you took the beer Connor offered and cracked it open. He seemed pleased—and taken by surprise—to see you down the drink in spite of the overflowing foam.

“Ten,” you returned once you’d swallowed it all.

“Twenty.”

“Honey?”

The last voice didn’t belong to anyone in the group. You turned on your heels and almost coughed up your beer.

It was Joel, of course.

Standing at the threshold of the breezeway like a surly, disconcerted parent, of all things, watching you like he’d just caught you red-handed in the most horrific of acts.

Clutched in one hand was a Burger King takeout bag.

“Daddy. Hi,” you breathed.

Apparently your attempt at casual came across more slurred than anything else, because Joel stepped closer.

‘Let’s go’ was all he said. No accusations, no threats, no outward displays of emotion found anywhere on his face. Just a gruff ‘Let’s go,’ and a free hand reaching for yours.

Instinctively, you recoiled.

“We’re just talking,” you said, gesturing behind you. If you could have seen the uniform looks of discomfort and agita, damn near treading on fear, among them all, you probably wouldn’t have bothered.

“Good. Now you’re leaving,” Joel supplied in a moment.

He was blissfully indifferent. Asserting his will in a space where, less than one hour ago, he couldn’t bear to share a room with you, much less impart a shred of dignity or care to your condition. He had nerve, that was for sure.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, a touch more venom in your voice than you intended.

Joel raised both eyebrows.

“No?”

His expression, directed to you, was infuriating.

“Fuck no,” you answered.

A few of the guys behind you sucked in a breath as if to say, ‘Okaaaaay, time to go!’ but then Joel pressed,

“For someone who wants to be treated like an adult—”

“Adult?” you scoffed, “You treat me plenty like an adult, Joel. Just whenever the designation suits your needs, huh?”

No one moved.

Well, Joel flinched a bit. Then he squeezed your wrist.

Truly, you never failed to underestimate the man’s brute strength when it came to carrying you off at will—but there you were, being yanked behind the big, bad Joel Miller as he hauled you off to who-knows-where. You scowled but didn’t bother to steal a glance behind you at the beer, boys, or vending machine treats you were being forced to abandon. All you could do was stare a hole through Joel’s skull and tug back—largely ineffectually.

“You’re an ass,” you spat, digging your heels into the gravel terrain as he pulled you along.

“You’re a brat,” he fired back.

In a minute, the exterior of Room 102 was coming into view; Joel was practically toting your ass like a knapsack.

“You just abandoned me back here, Miller. You— you don’t get to pretend like you give a fuck now.”

“I was getting you Burger King, for Christ’s sake.”

Joel was fiddling with the lock now. Simultaneously juggling your hand, the paper bag, and a set of keys that didn’t seem keen on cooperating, he huffed, disgruntled.

“Even got you those—” Joel grunted, thrusting his shoulder into the door, “—fuckin’ curly fries you wanted.”

Your jaw slackened. That was supposed to make it okay?

“Joel, FUCK your curly fries!” you cried, “Are you seriously still trying to play good guy right now?”

“If that’s what you—”

“No. You don’t get to tonguefuck your friend’s daughter and buy her a goddamn Double Whopper and act like it’s all good. Sure as hell don’t get to dictate who I talk to.”

Like he had before, Joel cringed to hear your crude language—particularly as it related to what he had done to you but didn’t seem capable of owning up to just yet. You couldn’t bear another second of that look.

“Fuck this. I’m sleeping in the car,” you grumbled.

You thrashed your arm out of Joel’s hold and started off in the other direction. Picked up your pace when you heard the bag of fast food drop to the ground and Joel trotting after you. Calling your name.

Even at your most brisk, you knew you couldn’t outstrip those big, beefy legs of his. He gained on you in seconds.

So you took off running.

Joel gripped his side, thinking, ‘Aw, hell’ before breaking out in a sprint just as fast.

You were pissed at how far he’d parked this time around. You caught sight of the old Bronco perched a ways away from your room and almost opted to change course on the spot, to the front office—maybe dive behind the counter and beg that poor old woman to give you another place to stay—but you kept at it, anyway. For once, you were glad to have had Joel beat by so many years, because the man’s endurance was, evidently, shit.

“Hey, s— stop!” Joel shouted after you.

Fat chance, Miller.

You closed in on the car. Joel rarely ever locked it.

Your hand secured a grip on the door and jerked it back. It swung right open.

Just as Joel was pulling up the rear, you had the driver’s side slammed shut and your palm laid flat on the door lock knob—shoving the little black lever down each time Joel tried to unlock the car.

It was a fruitless endeavor, you knew; you couldn’t keep the man out all night so long as he had the car keys in his hands. You could piss him off some more, though.

“You won the fucking game, just take the bed!” you said, straining against the door with your weight pressed hard on that knob. Joel was furiously working to get it open.

“I mean it, Joel, I-I don’t wanna sleep in there wi— shit.”

You leapt back in your seat as Joel flung the door wide open. You scrambled across the center console, made a desperate grasp at the passenger door to climb out the other side, but your ankle was taken between two hands. Just as you tried to slink out on the opposite end of the vehicle, Joel pulled you right back in. Flipped the center console up so you were sprawled flat across the bucket seat at the front of his car and pinned underneath him.

Then he pulled you over his lap.

Not into it—nestled on top of his crotch, with your ass pointing up in the air. Joel’s big ass Carhartt jacket was bunching up around your torso, collar crowding you up to the chin. Your twisted just far enough to meet his gaze.

“What do you want from me?” Joel demanded, “What?”

You stared up at him, poring over your options in the span of what seemed like two milliseconds. Wondering, silently, why he wasn’t touching you anywhere.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel,” you replied at length.

Seated between driver’s side and shotgun, Joel looked perfectly unperturbed, raking a hand through his silver-flecked hair and letting his gaze trail up to the ceiling, as if considering something of grave importance.

“And what after that?” he asked, still staring at the roof.

Before you could reply, though, he was forging ahead,

“What happens when I can’t even look your dad in the eye knowin’ I’ve been balls deep in his little girl, and every fuckin’ time I’m over at your house or you’re over at mine, I’ll be thinkin’— no, dreamin’ of what it was like to have you wrapped around my cock, screamin’ my name and takin’ it so deep inside you like I know ya want it?”

You paused a beat. Had to bat your eyes a couple times to rid your head of those filthy thoughts he’d planted.

“We could, uh— fuck…then…too,” you ventured quietly.

Joel grinned at the spot he was watching, humorless.

“That easy, huh?” he mumbled.

Again, before you could speak, Joel continued,

“I can’t even cum with you on my mind,” he said, and for a split second you thought that might mean he wasn’t attracted to you in that way, when he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, “I’ve tried beating off twice today—in the bathroom and as soon as I left earlier—and I can’t…even get close with you here. You fuck with my head.”

You fuck with my head.

Without meaning to, your hips stirred over his, and Joel audibly groaned. At last, he dropped a palm to your ass and gave it a taut smack, and your whole lower half reverberated with the sensation—and a welt of pleasure.

“You think I want it to be like this?” Joel said, voice strained, fingers kneading over the flesh he’d just struck, “Think I enjoy havin’ the biggest set’a fuckin’ blue balls known to man whenever I’m around ya, honey?”

You winced when you were spanked again, letting out a whimper into the seat’s charcoal-colored upholstery.

“I can help with that,” you hissed, feeling him massage the spot once more. You arched your back into his touch.

“No. You’d make it worse,” Joel shook his head, “Once I get a feel inside this sweet cunt I’ll never wanna stop.”

At the soft rumble of his words, you felt yourself growing aroused. Noticeably so. Your skin broke out in broad swaths of gooseflesh every place he touched, and in the wake of those hands grew a pool of dull warmth. Sticky, slick, soak-straight-through-your-shorts sort of warmth.

Joel’s hand hovered about an inch from the source.

“We’d get bored eventually. It’d be fine,” you said, words crawling off of your parched tongue with some difficulty now. That faint, heady feeling from before had become a high, finally, and it seemed every sense you possessed was ablaze with desire. You were barely able to breathe, much less speak, but there you went, rambling anyway,

“Soon enough, you’ll get over the thrill of screwing me, and I’ll find a nice, polite, age-appropriate boy to spend the rest of my life having nice, polite sex with, and we can both pretend like this never happened. Deal?”

It was quite possibly the dumbest offer you’d ever made.

Joel slotted his hand between your legs to rub against that dampened patch of fabric. You almost jumped.

“Yeah? Just fuck around and forget about it?” Joel spoke, and you truly couldn’t tell if it was a sneer or real sincerity, as your eyes were squeezing shut, “Is that all you want from me, sugar?”

His fingers slipped beneath your shorts and made swift, easy contact with your heat. You buried your face in the seat and tried to muffle the sounds that were clawing their way out of your chest, while your hips tilted up.

“Please, Joel,” you whimpered.

By now, your head was spinning, in a daze, that you almost didn’t notice him tug your shorts down your legs. Or take them off at your ankles. You did get a sense of when he was breaching your folds—taking two, meaty fingers and trailing them up the slick glaze of your cunt.

“Doesn’t seem like this pussy wants ‘nice and polite’ to me,” Joel murmured, eyes gradually fastening to that lovely, exposed spot pointed up to him. He wet his lips, “Needs somethin’ else, doesn’t she, darlin’?”

Speaking of your pussy in third-person wasn’t something you ever thought could be hot, but coming from Joel? While his fingers traced up and down the seal of your entrance, tips circling your tight, hot, throbbing hole? Arousing didn’t even begin to cover it.

You pushed your ass back, and Joel chuckled above you.

“Wanna fuck daddy’s fingers? Is that it?” he taunted.

No, no, no—you wanted his cock buried inside you. But now you just needed reprieve from that ache, and your senses were practically on the fritz trying to get it.

Your hips rocked back and forth over his fingers—sliding the two digits in and out of your cunt with each motion—and, as much as Joel would’ve liked to make you beg and wait a little, your desperate pleas as you fucked his hand were more than enough to satiate him. He worked his free arm under your body and pinched hard on one nipple, eliciting a soft moan of ‘Joel’ underneath him.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, watching you rut your hips for more friction, “That’s it, baby, fuck daddy’s fingers. Use my hand to make yourself feel good— that’s my girl.”

At the last, you probably could’ve cum on the spot, and Joel could tell by the way you clenched around him. He nudged a third finger between your plush, sensitive walls and heard your moans take on an even higher pitch.

“Hurts,” you whimpered, with no real indication of pain. You just felt stretched out, stuffed, and aching again. The only ‘hurt’ was not having even more of him in you, “Need more of you daddy, please. It hurts.”

Joel wanted to see you cum on his fingers. He really did. But when you got down to begging and pleading for his cock like that, the man’s whole heartbeat throbbed in his jeans, and he simply didn’t possess the resolve to refuse.

He hoisted you upright in his lap so you were straddling his hips. The fabric of his jacket hung loose off your frame and both of your arms as you latched around him.

“Are you high?” Joel asked, voice evening out all of a sudden to pin you with a serious look.

“Yeah.”

“How high?”

“I can consent, Joel.” Your thighs tightened around his sides, and your hips had already begun to stir.

“Not just can consent—do consent. Do you want this?” Joel’s hands moved from the small of your back to cup your face. You gave him a squished-together pout.

“Yes, I want this,” you managed through pinched cheeks. When Joel released you, you lowered your own hands to the buckle of his belt.

It felt foreign and familiar at once—this age-old ritual of fumbling for each other’s clothes and wrestling to get them off, like your bodies might catch fire if you didn’t act fast enough. Joel was a tad more graceful as he shrugged his jacket off of you, peeled your tank top off, and helped you maneuver your bare limbs around him. You, on the other hand, felt half-feral and every bit the wide-eyed novice while you stripped his body garment by garment and wordlessly told him just leave the jeans, I can’t wait another fucking second. Joel bit back a grin and had to steady you above him, feeling his cock twitch against his tummy but still slowing down enough to remind you, shhh, shhh, honey, it ain’t goin’ nowhere.

You had a tough time remembering that as you rubbed your wet centre over his shaft. Feeling so good you feared the feeling might escape any second, you whined.

“I know, baby, I know,” Joel cooed as your head fell in the crook of his neck, “Still hurtin’ somethin’ awful, hm?”

The tip of his cock just barely grazed over your clit and you buried your face even deeper, nodding furiously; Joel leaned forward to grab some item out of the glove compartment behind you and braced your body to him.

He tore something with his teeth. You craned your neck just slightly.

“Don’t laugh,” Joel muttered, voice momentarily stifled by bright, metallic wrapping.

“Is that…” You straightened up enough to cock a brow at him. Joel’s tongue rolled across the inside of his cheek.

“Cobwebs and all.”

Beneath your gaze was the flimsiest, dust-ridden, damn-near vintage condom—a decade old, at least.

“You buy that before or after the Great Depression?” you teased.

“Shut up.” Joel was already working it onto his dick.

“So Prohibition-coded.”

“I can find something to shove in that mouth, y’know.”

You were having too much fun at the old man’s expense, blissfully unaware that Joel was about one Gen X joke away from making you suck three of his arousal-soaked fingers. When you opened your mouth to speak—to try another wisecrack or else question the integrity of this ancient relic of a rubber—Joel crashed his lips against yours and made you mute with his tongue instead.

At the same time, he slowly eased himself inside you.

Your mouth fell open when you sank down on his length, fully, but no sound came out. You just gripped Joel’s shoulders and peered into his face as if to say, ‘Shit.’

No way any man was ever meant to feel this good.

No shot your walls were fitting his cock like a glove.

Joel soaked in your gaping, wordless stare with a nod.

“Good?”

“Great.”

You’d give all eight inches of the man a goddamn standing ovation if your legs weren’t feeling like jelly. Joel let out a small grunt when you clenched around him.

“Nice and…easy,” he said, as much to himself as to you. He pinched your hip in one gigantic hand and held you there, “Let ya take a second and adjust, alright, darlin’?”

“But Joel—” you whined, already trying to slide back up.

His grip kept you impaled on his dick, anchored in place. With the other hand, he brought a thumb to your clit.

“Just feel me, sweet pea,” Joel said, slow and languid as molasses while he touched you, “Ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

You couldn’t be sure if the man was a sadist or the world’s biggest fan of cockwarming—or just polite.

The bare, slightly-less-sexy truth was that Joel hadn’t done this in a very, very long time. Even the sex he’d had, close to a year ago, was something more of a flashbang than a bona fide carnal experience; he’d just bent a perfect stranger over the bathroom sink and drilled her. This was a fever dream, a first to end all firsts, and at present, Joel felt himself toeing a razor-thin line between self-restraint and bliss by just your presence alone.

In short, he didn’t want to fuck it up by busting too soon.

When you rolled your hips and squeezed your eyes shut above him, well, Joel almost fell into a panic.

Think of golf. Differential equations. The weather in Kuwait. Anything to get his mind off of how tight your pussy was holding him in, how lithe your body worked to grind above him while he sat there, so helpless and—

“Big,” you whined, stretched to the fullest you’d ever been. Unable to bounce up and down like you wanted but still squirming for more friction, “So big, daddy.”

Hockey. Geometry. Wind patterns around the Maldives. He held you even tighter, but your motions were growing desperate. You had to start moving.

“Joel, please,” you begged him.

“Baby, I’m—”

About to cum. I am two seconds away from cumming.

“Need you now, need you so—” your voice broke off in a moan as you sank your nails into his muscly shoulders, “So bad, daddy, please, please, please—”

On the seat beside you both, your phone lit up, buzzing:

Dad 💙

Fuck.

FUCK.

Your eyes locked on Joel’s in a shared look of panic and horror, and for once, your bodies stopped, perfectly still.

You knew your dad too well. Just as much as Joel did.

Your father wasn’t the type to call late at night unless something was up. And he wouldn’t stop calling until someone picked up.

“Should we…?” That whisper came from you.

Joel was frozen in fear, eyes now glued to the screen.

“Just…give it a sec,” he breathed, “Might be nothing.”

But his tone couldn’t mask the dread behind his words. He gritted his teeth and watched the phone ring.

It stopped.

Then started again.

The pair of you clung to one other in the old Ford’s bucket seat like your dad might veritably hear the two of you having sex from 1,300 miles away if you moved.

It stopped once more.

The screen stayed black.

You let out a small sigh and felt your eyes start to close.

Then the trill of a ringtone under Joel’s ass started up the second they’d fluttered shut, and suddenly your gaze was wide, and frightened, and freaking the fuck out when you realized that your dad was trying to reach Joel.

“Answer,” you hissed.

“What?!” The whites of Joel’s eyes were bigger now than you’d ever seen them.

“He’ll know something’s up! Just—” you slipped your hand under Joel’s rear, completely devoid of any sexual insinuation this time, and yanked his old iPhone 6 out of his pants, “Answer it. Now. Be cool.”

Joel’s expression was still paralyzed with terror, but he brought the ringing phone to his ear anyway. Gingerly tapped ‘answer’ once you’d smacked him on the bicep.

“He-e-y man.”

You were so fucking dead.

Your face hovered mere inches away, and you could almost hear the warble of your father’s voice on the line.

“Great,” Joel answered, stilted as a puppet with someone’s hand up its ass, “So good. How are you?”

A beat.

“She’s good, she’s good.”

For a moment, Joel’s gaze flitted to the spot where your bodies were still connected and you saw a flash of desire, followed by guilt, then his head tip back to close his eyes as he tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand.

“In the bathroom…Uh-huh…Phone must be dead…”

“No, she’s been a trooper—just fine…”

“Somewhere just shy’a Bedford, I think…”

You listened to Joel drone on and clench his jaw, and every now and then you’d feel a squelch in that tiny space between you two when one of you moved, and it occurred to you then that it probably was not in your best interest to stay seated on his dick while he talked. You shifted your legs underneath yourself to get up.

When you started to slide up Joel’s shaft—the first time you’d ever really moved, mind you—you felt a knot in your tummy start to tighten. The friction was to die for.

You sank back down and heard a hoarse little cry spill out from your lips before you got the chance to swallow it.

At the same time, Joel groaned. Then stopped himself. Then coughed—profusely.

“Sorry, just got a little—” Suddenly, a fiery set of eyes were searing holes in your head, angry as they were desperate, “—tickle in my throat is all.”

You ignored the strained Southern drawl and the eyes that looked ready to put a bullet between your own, and you rocked your hips again. The sensation was just too good. Your body practically acted of its own accord, and suddenly you were bouncing up and down in Joel’s lap.

The man beneath you looked enraged. Aroused.

Ready to wring your neck and maybe spit in your mouth.

“World’s movin’ too. damn. fast,” Joel seethed, trying to communicate to you semi-covertly while you rode his cock, “She’s one hell of a— firecracker, man, I’ll tell ya.”

You heard your dad’s laughter on the other end. While the sound subsided to chuckles, Joel grabbed your neck. He covered the mouthpiece for a second, then, in a murmur,

“This is not a fucking game.”

He squeezed your throat so tight you probably could’ve lost all circulation going to your head, but you smiled.

In spite of the hot, glowing embers of pleasure taking shape at the pit of your stomach and the coil that kept twisting and swelling inside, you grinned down at him. Then you mouthed, softly, ‘Yes, it is,’ and you rocked your hips against him even harder.

Joel drew in a breath through his teeth and watched you ride him with bleary, half-hooded eyes—keeping one hand on your carotid as the other hand cradled the phone to his ear. The man was transfixed.

By the pinch of just one set of fingers, you knew you were done for. A dwindling supply of oxygen, combined with your high and the hundreds of nerve-endings being brushed by Joel’s cock every other moment, you were spiraling toward release and didn’t know how to stop it.

When Joel pursed his lips and lifted his hips to start fucking up into you, you had to let go. Couldn’t hold on. You grabbed hold of his forearm, still hovering across your throat, and you moaned as the bliss washed over you. You slid your needy lower half back and forth, squeezed that tanned, tough arm practically bulging with veins above you, and you came around Joel’s cock. You whimpered his name, again and again, feeling him stroke your walls and fuck you through a euphoric high.

The next thing you felt was the seat cushion behind you—and the shift of Joel’s body weight pinning you down.

His cock hadn’t slipped an inch when he flipped you over; his grip was still secure on the phone.

The only thing that had changed was that look: malicious and vindictive with the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Joel felt you pulse around him, starting to come down from your high, and he just decided to fuck you even harder.

“Shouldn’t be much longer now…” Joel hummed aloud, lowering a hand to your throbbing clit and muttering a soft ‘Uh-huh’ to your father while you clawed at his wrist.

“Joel,” you choked.

Now the feeling was too much. You were still so wet, raw, and sensitive that the pad of his thumb almost drew a shriek from your chest when he moved his finger in circles. You heard them chat about football. Joel shared a short, strained laugh with the man on the other end and pretended not to hear your whines as he continued to rail you senseless in the front seat of his car.

With the diversion of the phone call keeping his own climax at bay, Joel was free to fuck you as rough as he pleased—and couldn’t be more in awe seeing you veer close to the edge, again.

“Please, daddy, please,” you beseeched him, tears springing to your eyes as Joel’s thrusts kept shaking you.

He just shook his head and smiled as if to say, ‘Hold still.’

“It’ll be fine,” he said, “Mahomes is next-level. Best they can do is keep their heads down and take it, y’know?”

Your own soft, aching hole was taking the beating of a lifetime, and somehow, you managed to meet Joel’s gaze with a look that almost struck him as loving. That blissed-out, cockdrunk look of pure debauchery crossing your eyes in a way he hadn’t come to find in ages, if ever, was intoxicating. He felt the first fluttering pulses of your orgasm squeeze around him again, and suddenly he was pumping you faster, drilling you harder, gripping your throat and starting to sense his own climax draw near.

He couldn’t finish off like this.

Not talking shop and Super Bowl to your father—no.

Joel had to do something you might rightly hate him for for the rest of your life, and never forget, or forgive.

He lowered the phone, and right before he did, said,

“She just stepped outta the bathroom, actually. No, yeah, she’s right here. Wanna say hello?”

Your heart skipped a beat and nearly jumped into your throat. You tried to shake your head—fast—and even went so far as to try and dodge the phone when Joel brought it down to your ear, but that motherfucker had a grip like you couldn’t believe and wouldn’t stop stroking inside you or holding you down. You hated that you found Joel’s total dominance and control…kind of hot.

You flashed him the most nasty, bratty, ‘I’ll get you for this, Joel’ look you could muster anyway, and when he pressed the phone to your cheek, you mouthed a few more silent expletives before changing your air entirely:

“Hey, dad!”

Joel knew he was cooked from the second you said hello. Something objectively malevolent inside him got a rush to hear you speak to your dad in such a contrived, high-pitched tone of voice, knowing the unspeakable things he was doing to your body the whole fucking time. He could focus, now, with no need for any strained civilities of his own, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t last long. He would not last long.

Might as well make it fun while it lasts.

“He…did,” you hummed, flitting your eyes up to Joel when he brushed your lower lip with his thumb—still holding the phone up for you while he rutted into you, “No, nuh-uh…Mr…Mr. Miller didn’t mind, no sir.”

Shit, the sound of you saying ‘sir’ was something that made Joel’s whole body lurch with pleasure. He made a mental note to have you call him that later and stroked your lip once more.

You tried to turn your face away—telling Joel, wordlessly, that you couldn’t keep up this conversation with your father if you had a thumb in your fucking mouth, but Joel didn’t care. He watched you pause for a moment, let just the tip of his finger press into your tongue, then, battling your better judgment, wrap your lips around the digit almost cautiously and suck. He knew you liked it, too.

He knew it by the way you bobbed your head, hummed, and nodded every time he thrust inside your aching walls and dragged his cock back out. The way your teeth clamped hard on his thumb whenever he grazed a particularly sensitive spot and how your lips held him in like a gag, or some other thing to keep you quiet amidst the moans and the whimpers bubbling up in your chest.

Suddenly, Joel was at your other ear, lips grazing skin and tongue praising your every move.

“My sweet girl.”

“Doin’ such a good job stayin’ quiet.”

“Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, aren’t ya, darlin’?”

From that point on, every single one of your father’s words over the phone fell on deaf ears—all you could hear was Joel. All you could feel was Joel. Your lips parted as if starting to speak, but all that would come out were small puffs of air, perfectly in sync with each one of Joel’s thrusts.

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad pressed. A hint of concern rose from his end of the line.

At length, Joel gripped both of your legs and brought them up over his shoulders, and he grinned before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelped as you crushed the phone to your ear, hoping your father couldn’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

The sick, smug fuck currently wedged eight inches deep inside you almost burst out laughing. If you weren’t so perilously close to your fourth orgasm of the night, you would’ve told Joel to take a long walk off a short bridge.

“Just worried about grades a-a-and all,” you stammered.

Joel leaned forward and almost tore a scream out of your chest—his tip was kissing the edge of your cervix now.

“Yes, sir. I will.” You tried your hardest not to whine and almost let out a sigh, “I’ll…ask him about it, for sure.”

As bone-crushingly fun as this all was, Joel was close.

He could feel it in the furthest recesses of his stomach; he was about to blow his load.

So, leveraging his weight to strike just the right angle and pushing his thumb in to stifle your moans, Joel sped up and drew even closer, face-to-face, so he could see your every expression from a hair’s breadth away.

He was so near he could hear your dad’s droning voice. See you struggle to take cock the closer you got to your release. You hadn’t cum in such quick succession…ever, really. All but one of the guys you’d let between your legs before seemed like amateurs compared to Joel, and to be honest, you weren’t sure if you could make it to four.

You popped his thumb out of your mouth and mumbled some ‘Sure, okay’ or other to your dad before casting a pleading look up at Joel. His hips were working up to a ruthless pace.

You covered the mouthpiece.

“I can’t, Joel.”

“Sure you can, sugar.”

“Joel,” you hissed, and tried to grab his wrist, when you felt your stomach start to cave. Every exposed inch of skin gave way to waves of heat, and your toes curled in. Worst of all, Joel was letting out sounds you hadn’t ever heard—short, ragged breaths that broke off in low groans—and it felt as though he were cradling your head. Holding you to him. Your eyes were locked on one another, your mouths practically panting in time, and what parts of you had not yet become commingled with him were practically coated with sweat. And shaking.

Then, in tones that rang like music to your ears:

“Alright, I’ll let ya head to bed, then. G’night, pumpkin.”

Your dad hadn’t even fully hung up the phone before you flung it across the car. Heels dug deep in Joel’s back.

“Cum for daddy,” Joel coaxed, “Cum all over this cock.”

You didn’t need much more instigation than that.

You came. He followed.

And it probably split his eardrum in two having his name screamed so fucking loud, but frankly, Joel hadn’t seen a reason for going deaf that he could’ve enjoyed so much.

Then, he didn’t sink so much as simply collapse on top of you while you both kicked back and let the waves of ecstasy roll over you. You adored his warmth in spite of the heat practically suffocating you both in that car.

Until it was in you.

Sticky, sweet dripping inside you.

You pushed Joel hard in the shoulder.

“Did it…”

“What?”

“Joel!”

You flipped your legs down and tapped his abdomen furiously, telling him, pull out, pull out right fucking now, and Joel gently obliged. Dragged his cock three-fourths of the way out when a frail, tattered condom came loose around the head of his cock and almost fell off entirely. That damn prehistoric rubber had broken inside you.

“JOEL!”

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I— fuck.”

Joel scrambled to get his cum-drenched cock and what remained of the condom away from your body, but the damage was done. You started throwing on clothes.

“I’m ovulating this week, I am so fucking fucked!”

Joel swallowed, shimmying his boxers and jeans back into place and scoping the front seat for his shirt.

“What’s…ovulating?”

You wanted to tear your hair out at the root.

There was no way this man had survived half a century on earth and didn’t understand the menstrual cycle.

“It means I can get pregnant if we don’t get a Plan B up in this bitch immediately. Let’s GO!”

That part seemed to click. Joel almost fell over himself trying to find his keys, while you slid out of the Bronco.

“Where are you going?!”

“To— to try and get some of this shit out of me first!”

Joel bounded after you, and within the first steps, you were sprinting across the parking lot. Your sweaty, half-naked companion tried—and failed—to slow you down.

“Are you not on birth control?” Joel huffed.

“Are you not capable of buying condoms more than once every fucking decade—or three?” you snapped.

Your strides were growing wider and more frantic by the second. Joel clutched his side and struggled to keep up.

“I’m…sorry,” he grunted, more embarrassed and worn-out than anything at the moment, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t get your cum out of me, daddy.”

Your words couldn’t have gotten any more caustic or merciless—or inopportune—if you tried.

As it was, you were passing by the breezeway where all the bored lacrosse players were still lounging around, cracking cold ones, and craning their necks to see what the fuss outside was all about. The sounds of your feet racing fast on gravel and you and Joel’s raucous, bickering back-and-forth had caught their attention, and shortly, Connor was sticking his head around the corner. His expression—along with all the faces behind him—had twisted with horror. Confusion. A visible look of disgust.

Joel had just slowed down to catch his breath. He doubled over and braced both hands on his knees.

“I’ll fuckin’…duct tape my dick next time I hit it, honey!” he wheezed, barely loud enough for you to hear but perfectly audible to all the terrified guys around him.

Joel turned his head and almost groaned.

Then he was straightening himself back up, starting to retreat from the group who had him pinned with genuinely frightened—and nauseated—looks.

Joel normally wouldn’t care. This time, though, he threw his hands up and thought, fuck it, I’ll clear the air.

Over his shoulder, he grinned, yelling back to the guys:

“I’m not actually her dad!”

All of them stared back. Half-jealous, half-awestruck, Connor stood up, raised his beer, and called after him:

“I SURE FUCKIN’ HOPE YOU’RE NOT!”

[luvwestwood]

❝ DON'T WORRY 'BOUT IT DARLING! ❞ - Toji Fushiguro

— (18+) YOUR CAR BREAKS DOWN DURING A SOLO TRIP, AND A KIND MR. FUSHIGURO OFFERS TO HELP.

₊˚༊*· warnings. nsfw (18+), slow burn, rough sex, hair pulling, p in v, rough sex, slight age gap (r is 22, t is 37), pet names, raw sex, backshots, pulling out/cumming on face/mouth, pussy eating, fingering, light faceslapping, toji lives in a cabin..

₊˚༊*· notes. I missed writing sm... also, this was one of those stories where i just got carried away writing.. also if your car breaks down in the middle of no where, please don't follow a random man back to his cabin. toji is not real.

7,035 words (25m read)

header art used - credits to @/yunonoai on twt!

A holiday. The perfect thing you needed to ease your mind— work had been fucking you up lately, so you specifically had requested a few days off.

Realising you never spend time with yourself, and yourself only, had brought you to the idea of going on a solo trip. Although with budget cut short, you could only opt for a solo-road-trip; still well away from the city, and everyone.

So far, you thought it was perfect. Just you and your trusty volks beetle, cruising off for a few days to be surrounded by the county’s evergreen trees, and going down a spiral of constantly smelling wet bark here and there.

Crashing at the nearest motel just a few miles south, and digging into a typical, pancake breakfast at the closest diner the next morning. Quite basic, but you thought that it was unironically the calmest idea for a 'holiday' yet.

Pressing on the playback button, the car radio immediately sounded out the currently inserted tape that was halfway played through, your eyes rolling at the song choice.

“..I wake up in the morning I got murder on my min-“

The sound of the tape bypassing the opening filled with the car, along with silence and the engine running. “Oh for fucks sake, Yuji definitely put that in there.”

Balancing between keeping your eyes on the road, and your surroundings, you toss the DVD away to the passengers side; rummaging around the glove compartment for another disk.

But you found the peace as of now quite calming, resulting in you rolling your windows down by the slightest— taking in the natural noise of the environment.

Your cheeks turned cold to the touch as the breeze wafted throughout your entire car, your back pressing against the fabric seats, eyes only closing for a millisecond to take everything in.

Dressed in a tank top and shorts, my, it seemed like you were ready for.. who knows what. Hopefully no one takes you, accidentally, for a side-street hooker.

Bit silent, you suppose— seeing that there was no other car on this specific road too. It was eerie, but enjoyable at the same time. I mean, the road was in the middle of the woods so I doubt people would be passing in and out of here often.

Hand reaching back into the glove compartment, you grab a hold of a random disk, analyzing it as soon as you withdrew your hand back into your lap.

..The Cranberries, not too bad. Something to lighten up the mood a bit. Biting down on your bottom lip, you divert your attention away from the road for a millisecond— pushing the disk into the radio player with a swift movement.

The familiar intro of Linger began to play. Your two hands clutched onto the wheel tighter, letting out a squeal as a result of hearing one of your favorite songs.

What seemed like forever, you wondered if the road was going to look different anytime soon. It felt as if you haven't seen some sort of sign telling you there would be a bed and breakfast ten minutes up, but you simply brushed it off.

"..And I'm in so deeep, you know I'm such a fool for youuu.." Taking advantage of the empty roads, you notched the volume a bit higher, belting out your shower-learnt vocals with all your heart.

Concerning LEDs flashing on your dashboard suddenly caught your eye, your singing stopping right in the middle of the chorus.

Frantically looking down at the light, and at the road in front of you, the sensible decision to pull over came across your mind— your car quickly swerving to the side of the road, Linger still, playing as everything started to go downhill.

"W-what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Your hands fall onto your lap, brows furrowed at one warning appearing after the other, a whimper slipping past your lips as worry grew.

Looking out the rear window, then to the front, you've realised you're all alone. No help nearby, not for another while. Groaning, you darted your eyes back to your dashboard, seeing about three more warnings show up.

"Fuck- not now, oh come on!" ...Can't even get peace on my day off, can I?

Pulling on the latch underneath, you popped the hood open. Killing the ignition, you grab your zip-up from the backseat, throwing it on before stepping out of the car; sizzling, and smoke coming from under the hood.

"I swear.. if this is a trap for a murder film, just take me already. My survival instincts are through the roof.."

Sighing, you lift the hood up, a big cloud of grey smoke slapping you in the face, like you could suffocate any moment now.

"The hell?!" Coughing, you fanned your face, taking a few, cautious steps back from the vehicle. As soon as the smoke had went away, you leaned back in; analysing each part of your engine.

A scoff escapes your mouth, silently laughing at yourself. "Literally what the fuck am I meant to be looking at." Knuckles resting atop your hips, you stood up straight, chipping away at your fingernails with your teeth.

"..Okay, maybe I'll try and start it... and if all goes wrong- call the insurance company."

Blowing out a relieving breath, you sit back into the driver's seat, twisting the key, trying to get your car to start.

Nothing but the sweet sound of failure. Two more tries, and still the same outcome.

"..Insurance company.. right."

Unable to locate your phone, you let out a confused noise- looking sideways and upside down your car for it. "..Where could it.. be..?"

Though.. something seemed, off. Your head slowly rose up from below the passengers seat, peeping just above the car door.

A man, walking- closer, and closer.. It seems. Your heart began to thump against your chest- begging to jump out. Breathing labored, your eyes widen, body freezing at the most inconvenient of times. Wait, is he holding an axe?

"M-my.. my phone?!" With haste in your movements, you rummage through everything like a mad man, making a total mess of your car- the same mysterious guy getting closer and closer, tauntingly walking out from the deep woods.

Sitting back against your seat, your mouth gapes open; eyes glued straight ahead. This is it, I manifested it. Now why on earth did I say that?! It's over for me, I'm cooked.

You let out a mewl, attempting to sob, solely squeezing your eyes shut. Too scared to look one last time to your side, you took a few deep breaths, chanting mini prayers to save the last bit of you.

A tap on the window came from your side, your one eye opening itself. Hesitant, you slowly turn your head; seeing a muscular torso at the window tapping the glass with the handle of his axe, before the man leans down to show his face.

Dressed in jeans and a flannel, with jagged, raven colored hair— and a face to perfectly compliment his jacked up body. I see. But now's not the time to play a dating game.

"..Ma'am?" His voice deep, and rusty, your face grew more concerned, mouth still gawking like a freak in fear.

"..God, p-please don't kill me.." A quiet peep comes from you, the man resting a hand on your roof, still bent down, and chuckling.

"Lady, I could see your car smokin' all the way from my cabin. I couldn't help but see what's the matter. You want me to check it out for you, or not?" His voice happened to be quite faint from behind the glass, though you could make out what he seemed to be saying.

"..Oh... I don't mind, I just have no clue what to do, I.." Words coming out in a blabber, you stumbled over what you wanted to say, confusion written all over the mans face.

"Slow down, will ya? Can't even comprehend half the words you're saying."

Shaking your head, you brushed it off. "You know what.. forget it.. just.. check what's happening under that hood, please?"

He nods, disappearing from your window to walk around to the front of the car. Deciding to step out too, you came to the conclusion that he seemed like an okay man to trust with your car. But you just had to make sure he wasn't gonna fit some sort of tracker underneath your engine..

Crossing your arms, you walked closer to the man, who seemed to know what he was doing. Observing from a few steps away, you watched him twist and turn at a few things, no fear in getting his hands dirty. He seemed bigger at this angle, a bit bigger than you, so if he were to murder you right now... it's over.

"..Do you always carry around that axe?" Referring to the same tool that was now on the ground, you noticed his lips curl into a smile, taking note of the fading scar on the side of his mouth also.

Letting out an amused chuckle, his eyes remained focused on the problem in front of him, but his voice was able to answer something else at the same time. "Living in the middle of the woods, I think you'd do the same."

You nod, accepting the answer with no further questions. Although a few more silly ones came out of you..

"Have you ever been chased by a bear.. while living out here?" Swaying back and forth on your tippy toes, your arms stay crossed, teeth chewing at your bottom lip as you anticipated a genuine answer.

He stops, torso still bent down but head looking up at you, facial expressions unimpressed. "Do pretty girls like you always ask all these stupid questions..?"

Blinking, you freeze, at the blunt compliment and sharp stab of his words. "..I was just curious. Also, I don't even know your name. You know, if you try to kidnap me, and I happen to escape, and-"

"Toji." Short and direct, he answers that question. "Now that you've told me your game plan, I could've easily lied about my name.

Your throat running dry, you clear it out with a grunt, Toji standing back up with an unhopeful look on his face. "..Yeah, your car is busted." He picks his axe back up, turning his body to you.

"..What? But- there's no reception here and.. I have no where to go..." Great. You've told him that you're helpless, and a young, vulnerable girl who's all alone on a solo trip.

"Wait- so you're telling me you're all alone, in the middle of these woods. Lady, do you not know that there's literally nothing here but dirt and trees?" His face scrunched up in disbelief, he genuinely wondered what a girl like you would be doing here.

"..I just wanted a holiday... on my own and.. I thought.. I could crash at some motel like in the movies and.. and.. pancakes.. oh the pancakes.." A sob chokes out of you, warm tears beginning to stain your cheeks at the thought of your vacation going downhill.

Toji, on the other hand looks more confused at this rate, his voice stammering, unsure of how to console you. A random girl, crying in front of him.. Great.

"Uh, don't cry- I didn't mean to.." Scratching at his nape, he waits until you stop crying your guts out, and successfully, you do. "Look, how about I'll fix your car for you, but first we get you a place to stay."

Sniffling, you look up at him, an ounce of hope springing back into you. "..R-really?"

Relieved, Toji was able to relax by the slightest after finally getting you to stop sobbing in front of him. Comforting wasn't his forte. "Yeah, don't worry 'bout it darling. But my cabin is the only thing I could offer right now. I told you, there's nothing in this place. No.. 'motel'..."

Looking back at your busted car, then returning to Toji, he shrugs his shoulders; mouthing, 'the choice is yours.' He wasn't pressuring you at all, but it was true that there was no other option. Outside the city wasn't all that, and you learnt the hard way.

"...Fine, just don't.. don't murder me.. I don't wanna die." Toying with the zip of your hoodie, you divert your gaze away from Toji, deciding to look at the ground instead.

He grunts, grabbing his head in frustration. "Would you quit with that murder bull-crap?! How many times do I have to say it. Should be me who's scared of a Michael Myers venturing 'round these woods." Toji shakes his head in disapproval. "Just grab your things and get movin' will you? Sun's about to set soon."

Unamused yourself, you shoot him a glare, walking over to the backseat door to grab your backpack full of everything. Slamming the door shut, you sensibly grab your keys, properly locking everything before Toji shuts the hood, resting his axe on his shoulder.

The man gestures you to follow him, hopefully not towards your death. Trailing behind his large figure, Toji occasionally glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were still there and didn't happen to run off; more than certain that you were shitting your pants right now.

Readjusting the heavy backpack on your shoulder, you struggled, mentally complaining, but too afraid to ask if you were there yet. Guess you'll take the blame for this one. Should've packed light I suppose..

"We're here, incase you were wondering." Toji stops in his tracks, turning his body back around to face you before making his way to the onto the porch.

Surprisingly, it was nice and big, and seemed homely. "Not gonna lie, I thought you lived in a run down shack in the middle of no where. With like, bugs and stuff?"

"Who do you take me for?" He scoffs, "Come in when you're ready. Also mind your step." Toji points out the mini stairs just below the porch, before disappearing off inside. He really made sure that you didn't feel pressured to do anything whatsoever. So he let you enter at your own will.

Taking note of your surroundings outside one last time, you let out a deep breath before stepping inside.

Warm air engulfed you, heat coming from a well built fire place. It actually was nice inside, and everything everywhere made sense. The architecture of the cabin really had Toji written all over it.

Nothing was run down. It felt like a home, just with a rustic style to it. The sofa actually had a throw draped over it, a flat screen tv mounted just above the fireplace. There was also a nice view of a body of water outside some large windows.

Toji paced around the sofas just after resting his axe safely in a corner, stretching his arms out; toned muscles flexing from the warm, yellowish light in the cabin.

"Make yourself at home, you take my room tonight. I'll crash on the sofa." He makes his way to the other side of the cabin, supposedly the entrance to his bedroom. Toji leaning against the door frame, he watched as you stood still in one spot, still observing your surroundings.

"Also has its own bathroom, so no need to worry about me walking in on you. There's locks too from the inside. And I don't care about you going through anything. I've got nothing to hide." Toji continues, he sure knows the questions you're about to ask. This man is always thinking ahead.

"..Thanks, Toji. That's really nice of you." Walking closer to the entrance of his room, you slide the backpack off your shoulder, holding onto the heavy load with two hands at this point. The backpack swings between your legs as you walk past him, Toji grunting before leaving you be.

He fucks off somewhere into the kitchen, meanwhile you lock the doors behind you immediately. You already smelled of bark and leaves, and not to mention, the stinky smoke from your car earlier.

Tossing your backpack onto an armchair nearby, eye glancing over a few frames with Toji in them. Some of him alone, with a fish in his hand, the other.. Possibly some old friends.

Curious, you looked around the dresser for some more things that could tell you a bit more about himself.

In the corner was a birthday card, which didn't evidently tell you his age, but you found out as soon as you opened it up to see what was written.

"Happy Birthday big guy, can't beleeve your old ass is 37! - Your pal, Gojo🖕"

Who the hell is Gojo? And, that's not old.. right? You scoffed more so at the fact that the word 'believe' was spelt wrong other than the badly drawn middle finger. Just a little habit of yours you can't control. Considering you were 22, Toji was kind of old enough to be your guardian, somehow.. but let's not get into that.

Attempting to place the card exactly where it had belonged, you were happy enough with your first try; still curious to find any hidden gems, but you were unsuccessful.

Letting out a hum, you took another look around your surroundings, nodding gently in approval at the view that he also had just outside of his bedroom. Seems like he knew how to build this place the way he wanted to.

Halfway pacing around his room, you realised that he probably thinks you've been silent for too long. Deciding to step into his bathroom, notice a shaver and some cream on the sink. Allowing the shower to run, you hoped the noise would calm his nerves to let him know you're still here, and alive.

Oh, being a curious cat you open his mirror cabinet just to take a tiny peek before your shower. Says he's got nothing to hide, so..

After-shave, lotion, pain-killers and a box.. An unopened box of extra large condoms.

You gulp before blinking rapidly, closing the mirror cabinet without a second to waste. You weren't sure if you should be mortified or impressed and relieved that they were unopened. Wait, as if it matters?

Locking the bathroom door just to be cautious, you quickly did so before stripping your clothes completely to the ground, kicking off your converse and socks before hopping into the warm shower.

The droplets trickled down your body, feeling more calm now that you've had a shower. Allowing the water to run over your hair, you scrubbed your scalp with your fingertips, completely soaking your body. You looked over to the shower caddy hanging on the wall before grabbing a familiar brand of shampoo.

Massaging that into your hair, you hurried on with your shower, making sure that you didn't hog all the hot water. You assumed that he had to start up a big ass generator minutes away just to get a drop of it, forgetting the fact that it was '24, and there was some such thing as a boiler.

The shower ended up being just fine, and Toji didn't bother you at all. He didn't force the door open, don't worry; and everything was just the way it was left in the room.

You didn't have anything else left to wear than the matching tank and shorts set you bought at TJ-Maxx solely for this solo trip. You didn't have to worry about your feet being cold, as the hardwood floors were surprisingly heated.

Quickly drying your hair with one of his towels, you figured that he didn't have a hairdryer, so you had no choice but to leave it to air dry.

Finally unlocking the bedroom door, you opened it to see Toji busy behind the kitchen island. Assuming he was cooking, you made your way closer, sitting on a bar stool nearby.

Toji had a tea towel draped over his shoulder, and the smell of cooked meat entered your nostrils.

"If you're a vegan, it's your unlucky day." He says, clearly knowing you were seated behind him.

You laugh, resting your elbows on the counter, watching him like a hawk . "I eat everything, don't worry."

"Good." He says before turning back towards you with a plate of steak, potatoes and asparagus. Unlike earlier, this time a pleasant cloud of steam hit you in the face, the smell making your tummy grumble.

Toji has a plate of his own, leaning against the counter behind him as he watches your every move, waiting for you to take a bite. He pokes at a potato, tossing it into his mouth before saying something.

"Wake up early tomorrow, I'll teach you what to do in case something like this happens again. I don't expect you to follow a man again back to his cabin in the middle of no where.." Prodding at a few more pieces of steak, he notices you were busy digging into your own plate.

You just let out a hum of approval, Toji slowly sliding a glass of water towards you before you could choke anytime soon.

Setting your cutlery down, you look up at Toji standing, busy eating his own dinner. Here comes the wave of questions.. "Hmm, do you ever get lonely out here?"

Unphased by the question, Toji continues eating, but answers your curiosity. "Nah, I like being alone. I'm used to it anyways. Friends do come visit, but not always." He shrugs, unable to make eye contact with you.

"..I see.." Nodding, your mind jumps back to the unopened box of condoms back in Toji's bathroom, your inner voice mentally cursing at yourself for being too curious.

Letting famish get the best of you, you devoured everything on the plate in record breaking time, politely pairing the cutlery together on the dish. "Uhm, Toji? I can clean up. It's the least I could do."

The man just finishing his own plate, he sets it on the counter beside him, looking at you, impressed. "Seriously? 'right then."

Hopping off the stool, you make your way past him, feeling Toji's gaze burn into the back of your head, before you reached around him for his plate, and your own on the island. Bringing the two to the sink, you began to wash them with the sponge, occasionally looking out the kitchen window.

It had gone dark quickly. Who knows if Toji never had come across you.

"You got a boyfriend or what?" A first time question from the man, and it was one you didn't expect. He remained leaning against the counter, watching your every move from behind you.

Suppressing a panicked turn of your head, you kept your vision down at the dishes, gliding your hand over the dishes and under the water, you gulped before answering.

"No, not anymore. I broke up with him cause I found out he was cheating on me with some girl on the majorette team in college." Your insides burned at the memory of you walking in on them at a party bathroom, but you didn't let it get to you, not now.

Toji didn't let out a hum of approval, and instead stayed quiet. All he did was place your empty glass beside the sink that you seemed to have forgotten all about. Taking that too, you scrubbed it with the sponge before rinsing it off and placing it on the drying rack.

"All done," you dried your hands on the fabric of your shorts behind you, turning back around to Toji who was in the same position, but this time, his hands held onto the counter's edge on either side of him.

Peering at the drying rack around you, he pouted in approval, "Done a fairly good job I suppose,"

You scoff, "It was just washing dishes. Nothing hard."

"I'll be right back. No tomfoolery, and don't open that door." Toji glances to the front door, before disappearing off into his bedroom, the door closing. You thought nothing of it, walking over to the L-shaped sofa to see what was on TV. Some stupid deer documentary was on, typical, but you changed it to something more entertaining like a soap.

You assumed that he had no Netflix on it, and you were right. You can't really imagine Toji watching an episode of The Office.

Propping the side of your head onto your knuckles, your eyes bored at the screen, barely paying attention to what was on the TV. Glancing over to the clock on the wall, you read the time to be almost 9 o'clock, which shocked you.

Letting out your fifth sigh of the day, you flickered back and forth through the channels before hearing a door open behind you, Toji stepping out of his room, and this time, dressed in grey sweats and a t-shirt. His hair was slightly damp, as you noticed him sitting just after your feet, ensuring a distance between you two.

"What's this crap you're watching?" Toji rests his elbows on his knees before relaxing back onto the sofa, legs spreading as he made himself comfortable.

Tossing the remote over to his side, you roll your eyes. "Knew you would say that."

The man attempted to focus on the shit show in front of him, brows furrowing, but eventually he seemed interested.

Sitting up, you cross your legs, groaning. "There's nothing good on TV. I'm going to bed."

Toji looked to his side, watching as you stood up and left, and he had to admit— he did get a look at your behind. But no one could beat that out of him. "Alright, suit yourself. Sweet dreams. Remember, up early tomorrow."

You glanced behind your shoulder before stepping into his room, not shutting the door fully but leaving a slight gap between the frame and the door itself.

After scavenging through the side pocket of your backpack, you returned back into Toji's bathroom with your toothbrush this time. Stealing a pea of his own toothpaste, you stared at yourself in his mirror as you brushed away.

You could still hear his TV coming from outside, and it sounded like the channel didn't change. He was probably fixated on the show by now. After spitting out, you rinsed off your toothbrush, before heading back out to place it back into your backpack.

Before hopping into bed, you neatly folded your things away, ensuring you cleaned up after yourself as you hated leaving a mess behind, especially if you weren't in a space of your own.

Letting out a sigh, you crawled into his bed, surprisingly filled with two fluffy pillows, and not just one flat ass cushion. Toji's bed strongly smelled like aftershave, supposedly the one in his bathroom mirror. It was comforting though, and wasn't an unpleasant scent.

Covering your upper half with the duvet, you laid flat on your back, eyes staring up at the ceiling before your lids slowly grew heavy and soon enough, closing shut.

You managed to sleep halfway through the night, until, it had began to thunder, and rain heavily. The drops pattered against the glass window, waking you from your slumber inconveniently.

Sitting up in bed, you look around, noticing everything was still the same. The door remained slightly open, and you could see that the TV has still been on until now, but sounded different.

Looking out the window, you couldn't see much from the heavy rain blinding the environment. It was lashing outside, and unfortunately, you were unable to fall back into sleep.

Pursing your lips together, you climbed out of bed, making your way to the door before opening it by a bit.

You treaded lightly, seeing Toji's head behind the sofa. Unable to tell if he was asleep or not, noticing that the TV was on, you approached him closer. Your head peeked over the sofa slightly, voice calling out his name.

"..Toji? ....Toji." You let out a loud whisper, the man grunting and turning his head around. It seems that he was fast asleep, but... sitting up. How scary.

"I can't sleep.. the weather, it's really awful outside." Nipping at the fabric of your shorts, you sucked in a labored breath of air through your nostrils before initiating a question. "..Can you- sleep beside me?"

Toji seemed less asleep, and now, he was wide awake. He looked over to the clock before reaching for the remote to switch off the TV. It was halfway through one in the morning. "What are you, nine?" He laughs before getting up from the sofa, trailing behind the sofa to follow you back into the room.

He questioned no more, and agreed. He'd do anything to be back in his room anyways, in the comfort of his bed, but of course knowing Toji— he'd never admit that.

The two of you hurried back into the bedroom, Toji automatically walking over to his side, while you, crawl back into bed. Making yourself comfortable again, you drape the cover over yourself, feeling the weight of the bed shift beside you, Toji making himself comfortable also.

You turn to your side, back facing Toji, unable to have him stare at your face all night. The room grew silent, and only the sound of the rain tapping against the window could be heard. Though you could still feel his gaze burning into your back, which happened to go away soon enough.

"No stupid stuff." He suddenly blurts out, which you were unable to decipher. Was he talking about what you thought he meant?

You decided not to respond, and instead, shifted around. You could feel Toji's natural body warmth all over your back, and with one more shift, you realised that he was close to you, actually, way too close to you.

But it was too late to move back, as you were too scared of irritating him by shuffling around so much that he'd kick you out.

A large hand snakes onto the side of your waist, gently gripping at your stomach. "Quit movin' around so much, will you?" It was Toji's hand, and he firmly kept you in place. Preventing any further movement. The continuous friction of your shorts against him had aroused him of some sort, and it was uncontrollable.

Another hard bump rested on the behind of your shorts, your eyes flying wide open, unable to shut now. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know.. I'll stop."

"Sure, you didn't know what you were doing?" You couldn't see the expression on his face, and could only judge by the tone of his voice. Too bad you were facing away from him right now.

Giving in, your body aggressively shifts to face him, the natural moonlight peering through the windows leaving a bright enough glow on his face.

You gulp, Toji hesitantly using his finger to move away the fly-aways covering your face to get a better look at you. "..Don't know why that jerk cheated on you."

"..You don't know me, so.." You let out, Toji's brows furrowing as he studied your features harder.

Alternating between your eyes and lips, he let out a mixture of a grunt and a laugh. "Should go for a real man."

Your breath hitches at his remark, your mind trailing off to other translations of his sentence. He talking about the fucking, or dating aspect?

Silence grew between you, his thumb carefully swiping over your soft bottom lip. The air grew thicker and thicker, a sort of tension lingering throughout the room. You couldn't tell what initiated it, but the air felt suffocating, like it had its own hold of you.

Leaning in closer to his face, your warm breath fanned against his lips before he cupped your cheek with his hand, holding you close as your mouths latched onto each other. The tension between you two diminishing as your tongues intertwined.

Toji laid flat on his back as you straddled him under the sheets, the kiss turning sloppier, with a blend of spit coating your chins, the two of you moaning into each other.

You whimper, pulling away as you felt his teeth tug onto your bottom lip, a long, string of saliva creating a bridge between the two of you, both panting, chests heaving heavily.

Swiftly stripping your tank above your head, the sudden air had bit your skin, nipples growing hard to the touch, all perky and erect. Unable to see in the midst of the fabric covering your sights, you could feel both of Toji's large hands cupping your breasts, massaging them— thumbs toying teasingly at your nipples.

Palms pressing onto the flat of your back, Toji guides your hips with no rush in his movements, back and forth, groaning at the grinding sensation over his sweats, head heavily leaning against the pillow. Your top slides down onto the bedroom floor, breath irregular as you felt the thick tent in his pants dig into you.

You both swap positions, Toji flipping the two of you around with ease and no struggle in his demeanor, the man anchoring himself between your thighs.

Toji's lips latch onto your breasts, warm mouth wrapped around one, sucking away hungrily as he fondled with the other. A pop leaves his mouth as he lets go, using a finger to flicker your nipple gently, your warm, spit-covered nipples growing hard once again as soon as it meets the cold air.

You watch as Toji goes down on you, breath shaking as he peppered kisses down your stomach, disappearing underneath the sheets; leaving a few pecks dangerously close, and somewhere on your inner thigh.

Feeling his pointer and middle finger tug at the waistband of your shorts, you could tell that he was waiting; and so you raised your hips up slightly, allowing him to drag them down your legs.

His hands clasp around your two thighs, bringing you closer to his face, though you just couldn't see; Toji's tongue leaving behind a wet stripe against your clothed pussy, your body shuddering at the feeling.

Your mouth could only gape open, your eyes peering up at the same ceiling as you let out breathless moans here and there.

Toji's middle finger tugged your panties to the side, allowing your bare pussy to be on show to him completely, finally landing yet another stripe with his warm tongue. He eagerly sucks, sticking his same middle finger in, fucking your hole gently as he alternates between licking and fingering.

Letting out quiet moans, you fondle with your breasts, legs squirming as he inserted another digit, Toji using both hands to rip your underwear completely as he sucked on your clit

Your hand reaches for the pillow behind you, fingers clawing at the fabric.

Toji raised his own hips, practically on his knees to be able to palm at his own cock as played with you for your own pleasure, getting off to your moans as he continued to have you undone with his touch.

You could hear him grunt lowly, from time to time, but grunting in disapproval whenever you'd stamp your thighs on either side of his head, trapping him between your legs.

Your head leaning back, you gasped, eyes rolling as Toji curled his fingers up into you, eventually allowing his movements to come to a complete halt, your throat mewling in dissatisfaction.

"Not so fast, wanna feel you cum 'round something else," Toji appears in front of you, arising from under the sheets; stripping his own shirt off his body before tossing it somewhere across the room.

His body shifted around, and you assumed it was to get the condoms, where you already knew was located. Though you quickly took a hold of the strings on his waistband, pulling him back.

"No- I wanna feel you raw, Toji," Looking up at him as you said so, still laid on your back; the man could've sworn that his cock twitched at what you had just said.

Surprisingly, he nods, moving about to get his pants fully off him, struggling a bit, but managing in the end.

Toji uses a hand to jerk his thick length repeatedly, the other free playing with the flesh on your waist. "You sure about this?"

"I am." You replied, busy wondering how he was gonna fit inside of you. The condoms weren't lying.

Slightly and slowly pushing his tip into you, followed by the rest, the two of you groaned at the feeling, Toji grabbing onto both sides of your waist eventually; grip growing tighter as he stuffed you full. Your fingers clawed at his wrists, a moan escaping your mouth as you felt his girth stretching you out, Toji using his thumbs to caress your sides gently.

"All good?" He made sure, and you nod, letting him know that he could move, and you were perfectly fine.

Toji's hips began to rock back and forth, occasional groans coming from him, mentally thanking you for the fact that you let him do it raw.

"..F-faster," you let out, Toji now placing both of his hands on either side of your head, his hips bucking into you faster and deeper; the bed slightly creaking from his movements.

He continues to groan endlessly, head jerking back as he felt your gummy walls take him completely, cursing over and over again. Toji smashes his lips onto yours again, you moaning as a result, the man taking your head into his hands as he held you close; forehead leaning on yours as his cock bullied your insides relentlessly.

Pulling away, Toji grabs both of your legs, resting your ankle on each of his shoulders— allowing him to fuck into you deeper, and be impossibly closer, the man fucking you into a nasty mating press as the creaking intensifies; the headboard beginning to hit against the walls, the legs of the bed scratching all over the floorboards.

"S-shit, To-oji," Voice breaking up your words, you dig your fingertips deep into the muscle on his shoulder, Toji moaning closely against the shell of your ear.

He growls, resting his forehead on yours once again, maintaining eye contact with you, so intimately; "That's it doll, moan my name, come on," he coos, watching as your eyes squeeze shut; the man reaching his hand up to gently slap it against your cheek— telling you to keep your eyes on him.

You do so, and endlessly chant his name like a prayer; Toji grinning and leaving a peck on your lips before letting your legs go, allowing them to flop on either sides of his waist, effortlessly flipping you back around.

Pulling out rapidly, the flat of his palm presses against your spine. Hands kneading at your ass cheeks as he spreads them apart, leaving a long wet lick from your pussy past your asshole, he slides his cock back into your dripping hole— maintaining his previous pace as he holds onto the headboard, drilling into you with no mercy.

Beads of sweat glistened his body like that pane of glass, strands of his recently washed hair now sticking to his forehead.

"Atta girl," he moans, slapping your ass and leaving a red hand-print. "Fuck, take this cock," Your ass rippling against his pelvis, Toji grabs a handful of the soft of your cheeks, fucking you back onto his cock; a symphony of ass slapping, and balls hitting against your clit sounding throughout the room.

Your forehead falls heavy onto the pillow, voice muffled as you moaned helplessly into it; Toji fucking you in all the right spots, he meant it when he said you should find yourself a real man. He was showing you, what a real man was.

"C'mon baby, I wanna feel you cum all over me, p-please?" Toji pleads, his thrusts slowing in pace, but still rutting in deep as he fucks you passionately, guiding you by your waist back and forth on his cock to get those last few strokes.

Toji leans forward, pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder blade, feeling down your back as he left a few more, shivers going down your spine as he roamed his hands all over you,

A creamy ring forms at his shaft, thickening over time as he continued to fuck in and out of you; playfully pulling his thick cock out to heavily rest it against your ass, gliding it between your cheeks before sliding it back in. His tip red, and glossy, your eyes rolled as he slipped himself inside.

Toji picks up the pace once more, urging you to your orgasm; your fingers clawing behind you, trying to stop him from moving any more, your two legs shaking as they attempted to stay up, and support you in your arch.

He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back towards him; fucking your mind as he finishes you off from behind. "I'm gonna c-cum, oh fuck," you squeal, eventually making a mess all over his cock, squirting— Toji still fucking into you as your orgasm had washed over your body.

A dark puddle forms on the bedsheets underneath you, and your slick soaks on the flat of his thighs, a squelching noise emitting from underneath as you lazily rubbed circles on your clit; eyes rolling from the several sensations hitting you all at once— Toji’s cock continuing to piston into you.

Toji grunts, feeling you clench and unclench round his cock; a firm slap stinging against your left cheek as he instantly pulls out. "Turn around," he commands, breathing heavily and you obey; a firm grip still in your hair— the man guiding his cock with his index and thumb towards your lips.

Slapping his heavy girth against your mouth, warm ropes of white decorate your face; Toji grunting as he watches your face be painted with white, smearing his artwork all over your face, pushing his tip gently into your mouth as you sucked, sticking your tongue out for visual confirmation of the white orb of cum resting on it.

"Fuck.." he whispers, "Swallow it baby," Toji smacks his tip against your cheek, soon enough letting go of your scalp as he jerked his cock with a last few strokes.

Upon letting go, he immediately cupped your face into his palms once again, rewarding you with a tender kiss on the lips, sneaking a quick fondle at your breast.

Toji glances out the window, returning his gaze back to you glowing under the moon's light. The loud storm had stopped long ago. "..Don't you think those backshots were louder than that thunder clapping out there?"

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me. ily all soo soo much!

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Route To Sin - Eddie Munson

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: eddie decides to go on a roadtrip with you to visit your sister in vegas, when you stop at a themed motel on the way, things quickly take a filthy turn.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: my first eddie munson fic!! i’ve loved this man for two years, i just finally decided to put it on paper lol, please let me know what y’all think!!

TW: dom!eddie, slight brat tamer!eddie, reader has a sister, drug use (weed), food mention, marriage talk, dacryphilia, breeding kink, daddy kink, bathtub sex, oral fixation, unprotected sex (don’t do this), creampie, cowgirl, mirror sex, degradation (brat, whore), porn mention, spanking mention, pet names (doll, babydoll, sweet girl, sweetheart, angel), hair pulling, fem + afab reader, reader gets slightly insecure at the end

Rating: R, 18+

——

A waft of earthy smoke billowed from the open driver’s side window, the familiar smell pulling Eddie’s attention back to the van. You knelt on the bench seat, body stretched across the expanse of the front cab to rest your folded arms against the edge of the window frame, silently watching your boyfriend pump gas. The last of the joint you’d been passing back and forth dangled limply between your pointer and middle finger, careful to avoid dropping the simmering butt and accidentally lighting the whole place up.

“If you keep blowin’ that roach shit my way I’m gonna leave you here.” That signature sarcasm rang heavy in his tone, canines peeking out from under his top lip with the smile he flashed at you.

He shut the fuel door, grabbing the roach out of your hand before snubbing it out against the heel of his boot and tossing it into the ashtray on top of the nearest trash can.

“I gotta go in to pay, do you want anything?” He fumbled with his wallet, pulling the wad of crumpled bills out of the worn leather.

“Get me a slice?” You asked, tilting your head toward the neon in the window that read ‘Pizza: Hot To Go’ in blinking red letters. He nodded, hitting a light jog into the convenience store, wallet chain slapping against his thigh with every step.

When you suggested a roadtrip to visit your sister in Nevada, you hadn’t fully taken into account how long you’d need to be in the van. Hawkins to Vegas wasn’t exactly a short trip, two thousand miles to be exact, and as much as you loved spending time with Eddie, the old, worn out seat of his van was starting to make your tailbone ache. Being 16 hours into a 28 hour drive had you feeling more stressed out than usual, you definitely needed to sleep in a real bed tonight if you hoped to get any relief before your big weekend in Sin City.

Eddie came bounding across the cracked pavement, pizza box in hand and you perked up, his goofy smile illuminated by the final sliver of dusk and the dingy glow of the old gas station sign above.

“I got a whole pie, Rick wasn’t fuckin around when he said that new stuff would make you feel like you’re starving.” He yanked open the door, the metal creaking loudly on its rusty hinge. You took the box from him, setting it on the bench between you as he hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, starting up the van to continue your journey.

“Eddie, can we stop at a motel tonight?” You asked, opening the box to lift a piece of pizza out, folding it down the center and bringing it to his face.

“M’not sure if there’s anything on the way, but we can stop if we see something, doll.” He turned his head, keeping his eyes on the road through his peripheral as he took a bite from the slice in your hand.

‘Welcome Home (Sanitarium)’ by Metallica blared through the speakers either side of the van’s tape deck, vibrations from the heavy bass flowing through the vehicle and melding with the warm haze your high pulled over your mind, your body relaxing into the stained upholstery of the seat. You kicked your bare legs up onto the dashboard, white lacquered toenails pulling Eddie’s eyes off the road briefly. His gaze shifted down to your ankle, then your calf, then landing on your plush thigh, your soft skin peeking out from under your short pajama shorts.

“Eddie, there!” You pointed toward the sign glowing overhead through the dirty windshield, reading ‘Heart’s Desire Motel’ in faded letters atop a large metal heart. His attention was quickly pulled away from your soft skin, pulling the van off the highway and into the small parking lot. The place was quaint, baby pink paint peeling from the siding, with an old ‘vacancy’ sign blinking in the window of the front office. You pulled your sandals on and jumped out of the van, slipping Eddie’s jacket over your shoulders to shield your bare arms from the chill in the night air. Eddie followed quickly behind, catching up to you with ease as you reached the front door.

A small bell rang when you pulled open the office door, the only source of light in the small room being a desk lamp situated behind the front counter. You waited for a moment, hearing a ‘be right with you!’ called from an adjoining space.

“How can I help ya darlin?” A sweet older woman emerged from a back storage space, setting some paperwork down and taking her place behind the counter.

“Can we get a room for the night?” You asked cheerily, excited to finally lay down on something that wasn’t a blanket in the back of Eddie’s van. She smiled and nodded, flipping through the room log book, and you took the opportunity to glance at your surroundings. The walls were the same light pink as the exterior, with heart and cupid motifs scattered across them to really hone in on the theming. The kitchy aesthetic was endearing, a reminder of the bygone honeymoon resorts of the 60’s.

“All our double twin rooms are booked for the night so we only have single queen rooms available, is that alright?” She looked between you and Eddie, knowing her question may as well have been rhetorical.

“That’s actually preferred, it’s our wedding night.” Eddie lied to the woman, a shiteating grin stretched across his face when you turned back to him and shoved his shoulder.

“Well in that case I’ll put you up in our honeymoon suite! It’s not much different from our standard rooms, but there’s a heart shaped tub for you two lovebirds to enjoy.” Her face lit up with the sweetest smile and your heart melted, guilt sitting low in your chest knowing it was a lie. You didn’t have the heart to tell her or question why she’d believed it given the way the two of you were dressed, but you shrugged it off, just happy to be able to finally relax.

You took the key from her as Eddie handed her the cash to pay for the room, twirling it between your fingers, a red keychain etched with the same logo as the overhead sign on one side and the room number above a small heart on the other. Eddie shoved his wallet back into his pocket, his arm wrapping around your waist to usher you out of the main office, calling out a ‘thank you’ as you left.

“What the fuck was that?” You grabbed your bag from the back of the van, shooting him a death glare only to be met with that ridiculous smirk he so loved to taunt you with.

“What, you don’t wanna be my bride?” He faux pouted, dark waves falling in his face as you reached for his bag. You over-exaggeratedly rolled your eyes, starting to walk toward the room.

“Guess it’s the atmosphere of this place getting to me, babydoll.” He slammed the door of the van, jogging to catch up with you as you started putting the key in the door lock. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment from how that little nickname made your heart want to burst out of your chest, Eddie always knew exactly how to push your buttons in the best way and this was no exception.

The sight that greeted you beyond the door was like something out of a 70’s porno, wood paneled walls framing crimson velour window trimmings, a matching velvet comforter sprawled across the queen bed. Two poorly painted angels sat perched atop the heart shaped headboard, like prying eyes seeing every depraved act carried out on the altar below. Sure enough, at the far end of the suite was a heart shaped jacuzzi tub, tiled steps leading up and mirrors lining the walls of the corner it was tucked into.

You dropped your bag on top of the mahogany dresser across from the bed, and as you turned on your heel to shut the door behind Eddie, you couldn’t help but burst into a small fit of laughter at the cross hanging above the door frame. The idea that anything happening in this sex den was god-honoring was definitely scoff-worthy.

“What d'ya say we put that thing to use? My back is killing me and I bet those jets would feel killer.” Eddie’s fingertips dug firm indents into the flesh of your hip, a not-so-subtle indication of what his intentions were for the night.

“Whatever you want, daddy.” You winked, taking a step forward until his large hand gripped your forearm.

“What did you just call me?” He questioned, brow quirked in curiosity.

“It’s our wedding night, remember? Don’t you wanna start a family?” Your tone was playful but truthfully something about this place was stirring a feeling so raw inside of you that you weren’t kidding in the slightest.

“If you keep that up you won’t be able to walk in the morning.” Eddie released his grip, slapping your ass as you walked away to turn on the faucet for the tub.

“Won’t need to anyway, I’ll be sitting in your shitty van for 12 more hours.” You knew exactly how to push his buttons, and insulting any of his women (his guitar, his van, and you) was the quickest way to do so.

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.” He half-snapped at you, digging through his duffle bag in an ill-fated attempt to stop himself from watching the way you wiggled your ass while you bent over the side of the tub, watching the waterline rise.

“What are you gonna do, spank me?” You found yourself deliberately arching your back toward to accentuate the curve of your ass, hoping with every fiber of your being he’d stop what he was doing and manhandle you a little.

“Only if you don’t stop with the bratty attitude.” He glanced over at you and immediately dropped the shirt he was pretending to fold back into his bag, finally giving up on his resistance and approaching you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your bare thighs. His fingers slipped into the waistband of your pj shorts and underwear, roughly yanking them down to expose your ass.

“Gotta get you outta these if we’re gonna take that bath.” His tone had returned to that lighthearted sarcasm that you loved to hate, and you almost let yourself sink back against him. Instead, you stood upright again, taking the hem of his tattered Iron Maiden shirt in your grip and lifting it up his torso until he pulled it the rest of the way over his head.

Just as he reached to do the same to your tank top, you turned away and reached for the tap again, putting a stop to the stream of running water. He gripped your waist, pulling you back against him before pulling your tank over your head, leaving you fully naked.

“Get in.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine that had goosebumps rising over your skin. Maybe it was your residual high, or the lovesick atmosphere of your surroundings, but everything felt heightened, your skin more sensitive, his presence behind you more intimidating, his voice more intoxicating.

You ascended the short step and sunk into the bath, the water level rising to not quite cover your chest as you laid back into the left arch of the heart. Eddie watched your every move, eyes glued to your hips to drink in the way your form shifted with every step. He made quick work of removing his jeans, letting the stiff denim pool at his feet as he watched you settle in, your gaze drifting to the waistband of his plaid boxers. He pulled them down at an almost agonizing slow pace, exposing inch after inch of his semi-hard shaft to your waiting eyes until his cock sprung free, the sheer weight of him causing his length to slap against his upper thighs.

You absentmindedly pressed your thighs together, trying to dull the ache between them to no avail. You never truly got used to seeing him fully naked, blushing like a naive virgin every time you had the privilege of seeing him like this. The muscles of his thigh flexed as he took the step up to level with the lip of the tub, towering over you before sinking into the water beside you. He was an Adonis, all toned muscle under a tender layer of plush tissue that made for the perfect sleeping partner, strong and comforting all the same.

“Come here, doll.” He patted his thigh, the water swaying with the movement alongside the low hum of his voice. You rose to your knees, floating to the other side of the tub and straddling his lap, your core sitting dangerously close to his cock. His hands found your hips, calloused fingertips digging into your soft skin with a squeeze before gliding up your sides, his thumbs ghosting over the sides of your breasts almost teasingly while he admired the way water droplets dripped down over your nipples.

“Always so gorgeous.” He groaned, strong hands finally encompassing your breasts, kneading tender flesh as his rough palms gave your stiff peaks the friction they desperately craved.

His touch lit a fire within you, and as much as the way that he looked at you with such admiration made your heart melt, your need was becoming more and more unbearable by the second. You shifted forward, rubbing your folds over the length of his shaft with a hunger, desperate for stimulation.

Before you knew it he had dropped his grip from your chest, threading a hand into your hair to yank your head softly back, drawing a gasp from your throat.

“Did I tell you you could move?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side and raising his eyebrow. He couldn’t help his sarcastic nature, it just came so naturally to him, and knowing that he had such an immense effect on you gave him the ego boost of the century. You shook your head as much as you could given the grip he held on your tresses, and choked out a soft ‘no’ in response before clearing your throat.

“I-I think I deserve some relief after being in the van all day.” You tried to put up a fight, not quite done riling him up, but your tone was quickly losing all conviction and Eddie could see you slipping further into desperation.

“You don’t deserve anything, you’ve been a pampered little passenger princess for 16 hours while I’ve done all of the work to get us here.” He yanked your hair back even further, craning your neck to look up at the baby pink popcorn ceiling. The sting in your scalp brought tears to your eyes, the liquid breaching your waterline leaving dark mascara trails down your cheeks in its wake.

“You’re being awfully bratty, doll, where’d my sweet girl go?” He cooed, free hand cupping your cheek as he loosened his grip ever so slightly to allow you to look at him.

“I’m sorry Eddie, I’m just so sore.” You sniffled, tears still falling from the shame the disappointment in his tone made you feel.

“Don’t cry baby, just need you to listen, okay?” He dropped his grip on your hair, both hands cupping your face, looking lovingly into your glazed eyes. You could feel his cock growing beneath you, the sight of dark makeup running down your tear stained face serving as the perfect aphrodisiac. He adored seeing you all messy like this, his perfect angel looking like a filthy whore, only for his eyes to see.

“Think we can both get some relief tonight if you’re good, can you be good for me?” You frantically nodded your head. “Yes, I promise!” Your enthusiasm made him laugh low in the back of his throat, that goofy smile returning to his face.

“Need you to use your words and tell me what you want, can you do that?” His tone held sickly sweet condescension and you could feel yourself slipping into that mind numbing headspace, wishing he could just slip into your mind for a moment and see all the dirty things you wanted him to do to you.

“Need you inside, please.” Your words came out barely above a whisper and he knew he wouldn’t get too much more out of you before you devolved into a mewling mess, too lost in your own mind to articulate your thoughts, but he couldn’t help but play with you a little longer.

“Inside where, sweetheart? Here?” He mused, bringing his free hand to your mouth, pointer and middle fingers prodding at your parted lips. You quickly took them in, sucking softly on his digits as you shook your head no, oral fixation too strong to pass up the opportunity to have any part of him in your mouth.

“If that’s not what you want then you need to tell me, don’t be greedy.” He pulled his fingers from your lips with a pop, his tone falling an octave. Your eyes widened, nodding in acknowledgment, willing to do anything to please him at this point.

“I-I need you down here, please.” You took his wrist in your shaky hand, guiding him down to dip into the warm water, lifting your hips slightly so his hand could fit in the tight space between your bodies, pressing his fingertips to the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. You stopped, releasing his wrist, not wanting to break any unknown rule and let him take the reins from there. He brought the heel of his palm up to rut firmly against your clit, drawing quiet whimpers as you did your best to stay still.

“What do you want here, doll? My fingers, or something else?” He teased, dipping two of his fingers inside only up to the first knuckle, the slight stimulation almost torturous as he scissored his fingers inside, stretching open the first inch of your cunt.

“God, something else, please.” You sighed, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“What then?” He stopped his movements, withdrawing his hand and you groaned from the lack of friction.

“Your cock, Eddie, please just let me ride you.” You swore you were trying to be good, but you were starting to feel like you’d lose your mind if you didn’t get the stimulation you were in desperate need of and you didn’t care how impatient you sounded.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He laughed, his hands gripping your hips to guide you up just enough for his cock to stand upright in the water, the tip bumping against your weeping cunt. “Whenever you’re ready, babydoll. You want it so bad, you’re gonna do the work.”

You took his hint, bringing your hand beneath you to grip his member, finally sinking slowly down onto him until you could feel him in your stomach, the all too anticipated stretch making you cry out in relief after his teasing. He groaned, running a hand through his curls as he settled back against the edge of the tub, watching you start to slowly grind your hips, just feeling how full he made you feel.

After a few minutes you lifted your hips once more, starting a steady pace bouncing on his lap, the head of his cock rubbing against the tender patch of nerves deep inside your cunt, velvety walls engulfing him with every movement. The water surrounding you started to roll like waves, splashing against the sides of the tub, threatening to spill out onto the tile surrounding it. You took notice, slowly your movements to lessen the potential mess, and Eddie sighed.

“We’ll clean it up later baby, just let go.” He reassured you, secretly just as desperate as you were to get off. He didn’t care about a little clean up, let alone wiping some water off the floor.

You were hesitant but returned to your previous pace, angling your hips back to really allow his cock to hit the sensitive place inside you, euphoria slowly building in your core. Your gaze slowly shifted from his face and when you caught the sight of yourself in the mirrors surrounding the tub you gasped, the lewd image of your makeup stained face and your tits bouncing with every movement of your hips was something almost pornographic, really living up to the atmosphere of the room.

Eddie caught where your eyes had shifted to and groaned, throwing his head back to properly watch you get off to your own reflection.

“Look at yourself, bouncing on my cock like a desperate whore, making such a mess.” His hand came down to press against your lower stomach, his thumb rubbing quick circles over your clit until you were a moaning mess, your thighs burning with the almost brutal pace you were now maintaining.

“Want you to make me a daddy.” He moaned, his breaths becoming more labored. His statement broke you from your trance, your gaze falling back to his as you searched his eyes for any hint of sarcasm, but you found none, he wasn’t kidding.

“Can I knock you up, babydoll?” He reiterated the sentiment, increasing the pressure on your clit and feeling you pulse around him, your orgasm dangerously close.

“I need an answer before you or I can cum sweetheart.” He was panting, straining to prevent himself from finishing, and you did everything you could to pull yourself together enough to answer.

“Yes, Eddie, please!” You maimed, tears threatening your waterline from how close you were to the edge.

“Say it.” He groaned, locking eyes with you one last time.

“Please cum inside me daddy, please!” You cried out, tipping over the edge with one last slam of your hips, pleasure rolling over you in tandem with the waves of the water around you, your walls contracting over and over around him until his warmth spread throughout your cunt. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly against you until the aftershocks stopped wracking your body, relaxing on his lap.

“You okay angel?” His voice was strained but sweet as ever, always concerned about your wellbeing above anything else.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, smiling silently against his neck.

Once you were fully recovered, you raised off of him, both of you wincing at the loss momentarily before sinking under the now lukewarm water for one final rinse. You began to step out, Eddie right behind you to grab your waist when your foot almost slipped out from under you because of the slick tile.

“Careful babydoll, don’t want you to slip.” He held you firm as you stepped down, making sure you were safe on the ground level before following you out, handing you one of the fresh towels from the pile next to the tub. He wiped up the excess water off the ground as you dried yourself off, and you didn’t know if it was the cold air or the rational part of your brain turning back on, but something started to eat at you as you watched your boyfriend dry himself off.

“Is it okay that I called you that?” The worry in your voice almost made Eddie’s heart break into a million pieces, and he quickly wrapped the towel around his hips before taking you into his arms.

“I loved it, babydoll, I promise I would tell you if I didn’t.” He smoothed your hair away from your face, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“How about we put on our pajamas and turn on a movie.” He smiled down at you, waiting for your approving nod before going to your bags on the dresser and pulling out your second pair of pj’s. He helped you into them before pulling on his own old band shirt and fresh boxers and crawling into the gaudy bed with you, cuddling up to watch whatever cheesy horror flick was airing on late night tv.

——

tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @your-nightmaredoll

also tagging: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @littlexdeaths @eddiesxangel @bimbotrashcan bc i thought you might be interested, please message me if you’d like me to remove you

please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future eddie fics!!

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 5; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

-

Give him blood and he’ll give you something new to chew on.

Except that isn’t the way it goes. Not this time at least.

He tries to talk Ghost out of it, but it falls on deaf ears. Blatantly ignored. The car barrels down the motorway under the cloak of night, a swell of stars overhead as the city falls farther behind. Radio shut off. Johnny thinks if Ghost had his way, the radio would’ve been pulled out entirely, just wires and an empty, black cavity in the dashboard, but it’s a rental.��

And no one wants to deal with the paperwork involved in damaging military property. Not even Ghost.

Ghost won’t so much as glance over at him. Unaffected as ever, as if they didn’t just fuck. Johnny’s stomach hurts when he thinks about it. Even without her knowing, he’s broken his girl’s trust. Not for the first time; maybe not even the last. His guilt echoes not only that he let Ghost make him come, but that he liked it—that the buzz in his bones says do it again, please god, again, please let me come, I need to come, touch me, please—

He thinks about his girl, then turns to Ghost again.

In the pit of his stomach, Johnny knows this is wrong. In his rational mind, he knows it. If he were in a better place, he wants to think that he’d make a real attempt to change Ghost’s mind, maybe get him to turn around at the next gas station, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling in his belly at the prospect of seeing his girl again after a week of nothing. 

The silence has been eating away at him. Bits of his brain flaking away, moth-eaten. Checking his phone again and again to no new messages, getting the same voicemail message whenever he calls. Something flutters high in his chest, an itch he can’t scratch; it tells him to take off in the middle of the night, drive all the way back home and pound on her door until she’s forced to answer it, forced to talk to him face to face.

Again and again, he tries looking at it from her perspective—tries to empathize with her. What he would’ve done in her shoes had she allowed a coworker to grab his dick in front of a crowd of strangers. It’s more than fair, he thinks. His own shame leaks out of his pores in the middle of the night, sleeping on top of the covers because he sweats right through the sheets. 

And yet, he keeps butting up against his own anger. Talk it out with me, yell at me, he growls into her voicemail, anger growing as the days pass one by one. 

It’s the road that alerts him to their arrival into the city more than anything. More cracks in the asphalt, the car rattling over sewer depressions and potholes in a way that says home sweet home. Usually it’s a source of comfort, like seeing the silver lining on grey clouds or the iridescence in an oil spill, purples and greens catching the light. Not now. Now the road winds like descending into the underworld, each turn coming with a sinking feeling. 

They park down the road from the flower shop, tucked just out of sight. A cool breeze wafts over his hot face when he steps out of the car. It nearly rocks him back. When he glances up, his heart stutters at the sight of her bedroom window, sealed tight now. Only cracked open during their sleepovers, when Johnny runs a bit too hot at night for them to sleep comfortably with the window closed. 

“Should I…do ye want me to give her a call to wake her up?” Johnny asks tentatively, shutting the car door softly so as not to make a noise. 

Ghost shakes his head. “We’ll let ourselves in.”

Johnny’s picked hundreds of locks in his time; he’s jimmied open doors with crowbars, set up explosive charges, used a good old fashioned ram from time to time—no stranger to the trade—but it feels decidedly uncomfortable with Ghost at his back, staring down at him as he breaks into his own girlfriend’s apartment. 

“This is a bad idea,” he grumbles, turning the pick in the lock until he hears a familiar click inside. 

Ghost doesn’t answer, just raps his knuckles against the back of Johnny’s head. A silent get a move on. 

Her apartment looks the same but different when they enter it. His muscles remember the layout though. The pink couch in the living room with two dimpled pillows on either side, the footstool by the door, the stand with her shoes all piled in neat little rows, the vase on her kitchen island with a fresh new bundle of flowers, fragrant when he dips his head to take a whiff. He’s loved flowers ever since meeting his girl. 

Ghost doesn’t try to muffle his footsteps for once. He rummages through her cabinets and drawers with all the finesse of a first time burglar looking to get caught. It smacks of intentionality. Johnny’s worked with him too many times in the field to know that if Ghost wanted to disappear into the darkness, he would. He’d be the thing creeping silently through the shadows, tread lighter than air, close enough to touch but never see. 

So it’s more than deliberate when he noisily shuts a drawer. Baiting her out. 

It’s no surprise when Johnny hears her creep around the corner from out of her bedroom. He’s tucked in the shadows of the living room, just out of the light, so he sees her first when she comes silently down the hall, whole body trembling with fear, the bat she keeps beside her bed drawn over a shoulder. Even her hands shake around the grip.

Of course she yelps when Johnny says her name, stepping out of the shadows, swinging wild. He winces when the bat smashes into a lamp, shattering it on impact. 

“Fuck!” she screams, scurrying backwards into the wall behind her. Several framed pictures rattle against the wall, nearly knocked off their hooks. 

“Noisy, isn’t she?” Ghost grumbles from the kitchen, tossing a bored glance over, unbothered by the commotion. He undoubtedly heard her creeping down the hall as well. 

“What the fuck?” she gasps, chest heaving when she breathes. Her eyes dart from Johnny to Ghost’s massive form in the other room. Poor nervous thing. She must recognize Johnny’s voice saying her name even through the panic because her lips droop in a frown, more confused than petrified.

“Hen, it’s jus’ us—nothing to worry about,” Johnny coos, hands stretched out in front of him to show he means no harm. 

It gets her to lower the bat, but only just, the slightest dip that has him darting forward to pry it gently from her hands. The ceramic shards on the floor will have to be swept up later, but he’s relieved that at least she didn’t step on any of them. 

Up close, she’s just as pretty as he remembers. Pretty as pie. How could she not be? In the glow of youth still, not like it's been a decade since they last spoke face to face—only a little over a week. A sight for sore eyes, even though Johnny’s narrow when he stares down at her and thinks about the week of his texts and calls going unanswered. His jaw undulates, rage held back by the thin thread of her scent that wafts under his nose, making him lean into her. 

Breathe in and out. 

“Us?” she repeats, brow furrowing.

She glances over at Ghost again, the man still ambling around the kitchen, at home in her little one bedroom apartment like he visits her frequently. Like it’s his as well. 

“Aye…Ghost wanted to come—Simon wanted to apologize…for the other day,” Johnny explains. 

“You broke into my apartment in the middle of the night…so Simon could apologize for sexually harassing me?” she says, the disbelief smacking in her words. 

“Hen, it's no' nice to say it like that—” 

“No time like the present,” Ghost says, not ashamed in the slightest. “Heard you weren’t taking Johnny’s calls. Might not’ve had to do this if you’d picked up.” 

Johnny doesn’t believe a word of that, but there’s no reason to call him out on it now. 

He can see her wrestle with a trifecta of emotions competing for first place. Anger, embarrassment, and then, a smidge of worry holding up the rear. Aware of the fact that she woke up to two grown men, one practically a stranger, breaking into her apartment under the guise of having a conversation. His heart aches at the thought. The lion’s share of the blame rests with him, but still it’s her that suffers for it. 

“You…you shouldn’t be here,” she rasps, flinching when Johnny lays a hand on her waist, towering over where she’s still cowered against the wall. Bat gone now, defenceless. Her pupils narrow to a pinprick. He almost tuts, poor thing. Scared out of her wits. 

It feels so good to touch her though. Soft and yielding. 

“‘Was Simon’s idea, hen, but, ah—” his breathing picks up when his fingers tighten on her waist and she squirms “—I was goin’ crazy thinkin’ ye were pissed for what happened last week. Couldnae get a wink of sleep—kept closin’ my eyes and seein’ your face. Nearly broke me.”

“I am pissed at you,” she snaps, temper getting the better of her.

“I ken, I ken,” Johnny coos, ducking his head until his lips graze her temple. “Simon’s sorry—we came all the way here so he could tell ye to your face, but fuck, hen, I’m sorry too—shoulda said something instead of standin’ there like a fuckin’ dolt—”

“You should’ve,” she interrupts, still fuming mad, an iceberg melting right in front of them. It makes his cock pulse.

“—Aye, hen, I’ve no excuse, none at all. Shoulda told Simon to fuck off and keep his hands to himself—”

“Careful, Johnny,” Ghost says warningly, finally stepping into the living room. He fills out the archway imposingly, almost forced to twist his body on an angle to step in. 

Her eyes cut over to Ghost, narrowing, lips pursing. Johnny’s heart jumps in his chest. It’s one thing to see his girl again in the flesh, but to see her all righteous and on the verge of an argument—he could bend her over the back of the couch now, sink into the plush, delicate folds of her pussy, reacquaint himself with deep, languid thrusts. Heaven after not getting his cock wet in a week.

He flinches when he thinks about the last person to touch his dick. 

“So you’re sorry?” she says to Ghost, her disbelief clear. Difficult to see why she wouldn’t find it hard to believe that the man that shamelessly grabbed her ass in broad daylight in front of a group of his colleagues and her boyfriend would now choose to apologize. 

Johnny knows the answer is no when he sees the way Ghost’s eyes rove over her body, taking stock of her little cotton pajamas and her bare feet curling against the cold floor. Ghost tilts his head to the side, eyes travelling back up to meet hers. “Sure I am, bird. Don’t I look sorry?”

Neither of them answer that. Arguing with Ghost feels different, like inviting in danger. Moving too suddenly in front of a hungry dog, jowls loose and salivating for a bite. 

He takes a step closer. “Complete pillock, wasn’t I? And now Johnny’s getting the silent treatment ‘cause of it. Just couldn’t bear another second of him moping around base on the verge of tears.” 

Johnny frowns at that. His girl frowns too, but there’s something more to it. He wouldn’t blame her for not accepting Simon’s apology, if he could even call it that—nothing about it rings sincere, more like words spoken softly to call a kitty over—but questioning it feels worse somehow. Like detonating a bomb at two thousand feet above ground. 

“…Okay,” she says instead, voice trembling a little. “Apology accepted. You guys can go home now.”

“Bird’s forgiving, huh, Johnny?” 

Johnny preens despite himself. “Aye. She’s a good girl, Lt. Told ye so.”

Ghost nods. “That’s right. A good girl who’s gonna let us make it up to her ‘til we have to report back in forty-eight hours.”

“Wait, you can’t—” she starts, then cuts herself off when Ghost’s eyes flash.

He can’t help the way he shudders at the helpless look on her face. Downturned eyebrows, pretty lips slack with disbelief, just the slightest hint of a whine building in her throat that dies when it dawns on her that nothing short of calling the cops will make the two of them leave. 

And she’s a good girl—would never call the cops on him. His perfect girl. Sweet as pie. 

Johnny falls in love a little bit more when she presses her squeezed fists against her eyes and exhales. “Fine. I’m too—I’m going back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”

Ghost doesn’t react to her acceptance. It’s taken as a simple fact of nature—he says something and it happens. He speaks the world into being. 

“I’ll take the couch,” he grunts, finally sitting down to unlace his boots. He looks comically large on her little couch—it’s more than likely that his feet will hang off the end, if not everything from the knee down. 

Johnny already figured as much. No point in them driving all the way back to base when they both have the next two days off duty and there’s a perfectly serviceable couch for Ghost and the other half of her bed for him. He thought they’d have to convince her a bit more or strong arm her into it (a putrid thought; he’d rather have sweet talked her into the idea), but his girl always manages to surprise him in the best way. 

On that thought, he looks over his shoulder towards the bedroom door, cock throbbing again at the thought of getting to hold his girl’s body against his. Touch starved dog. Mangy mutt, tongue lolling out at even the possibility of a pet. 

Ghost must notice the object of his gaze because he sets him straight. “You can take the floor, Johnny.” 

His tone brooks no argument. When Johnny whirls around, the words already on his tongue, she’s my girl, I’ve already slept in that bed ten times over, the sight of Ghost’s bare face, the mask now off, dangling in his hand like some scrap of fabric, makes him lose his train of thought. It’s not often he’s granted the luxury of seeing Ghost’s face—wide, clean shaven jaw, buzzed blond hair, old burn marks like a half-moon around his eye, nasty old scar slicing through his lips—and to see it now, here, makes something in him give. 

Saturnine man with a wolf’s appetite. Ravenous. 

It burns him that his girl looks slightly relieved at having the bed to herself. Irks him. Makes his jaw clench on a mean remark, half tempted to spit out something cross. Just because things have gotten complicated, now he’s not welcome in her bed? After the week he’s spent toiling, trying to make amends? Pleading desperately over the phone, stewing in guilt and heartache—Johnny knows she’s a good girl, but if he finds out that she’s replaced him with someone else in the week since they last saw each other—

Even the thought makes him see red.

He watches her as she turns around to retreat back to bed, more than a little displeased. 

“Give Johnny a little kiss before bed, why don’t you, bird?” Ghost lightly suggests. Not a suggestion. 

She freezes mid-turn. His expression dares her to put up a fuss. Johnny again nearly clucks his tongue, troubled on her behalf. Her spitfire nature is snuffed out easily under that stare. Grown men with experience in the field wither under Ghost’s stare. It’s no weakness of hers that she acquiesces time and again to his demands, glancing up at Johnny from under her eyelashes before shuffling over, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cheek. 

“Better than that,” Ghost grunts, unimpressed. 

His poor darling. Humiliated now. No skin off his back though. Johnny’s heart pumps double time when she presses her lips to his; soft petals that spread when he slips his tongue into her mouth, too eager after a week of nothing. Touch starved. Desperate to sink into her, lap his tongue over her lips and the roof of her mouth and press her jaw open to spit messily in her mouth. Take it, hen, every piece of me.

She rips her lips from his and dances away when he tries to get his hands on her, eyes wide, casting one last glance over at Ghost before hightailing it back to her room. 

He barely resists going after her. Only Ghost’s stare roots him in place; his voice in Johnny’s head that rumbles, heel. I’ll tell you when to go.

He still doesn’t know what it says about him that he angles himself towards it. Bows his head to it. Moth to a flame that shocks him to the bone when he touches it.

Ghost tosses him the second pillow from the other end of the couch and takes the only blanket for himself. No matter. Johnny’s bivouacked on snowy cliff sides, chilblains blistering his toes for weeks; nights spent camped in torrential downpours, his tent on the verge of collapsing; windswept baysides chilling him to the bone. He can handle a pillow on a hardwood floor. 

The ebb and flux of an ocean in his ear, and then Ghost’s voice from the couch: “I’ll take first watch.”

Whole body falling loose as if snipping a cord tethering him to the world. 

“I’ll clean up the lamp in the morning,” he mumbles, vision already blurring. Ghost hums low in his throat.

He falls asleep with Ghost’s voice in his head, his girl’s taste still in his mouth.

[latenightdaydreams]

Okay, imagine mechanic!Konig who fixes your car and is just you know- hot. And then as payment he wants a date. In the back of his car. Where he fucks your brains out and is just so sweet. Mutters the dirtiest things about always being able to fix your car if you give him a baby or something and is just- god I'm feral for this man. And your writing!

Anyway, sorry if it's a weird ask. I love your writing to death, it's fantastic! Make sure to eat yummy snacks and stay hydrated!

AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! That means so much to me and I'm so happy to have such great supporters like you! I absolutely LOVE this idea! I hope you enjoy! Thank you so so much for your support!! 💗

Mechanic!König x reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 2

>cw: fem/afab, sex for payment, p in v, breeding kink, dirty talk

Word count: 1.4k

For more click here✍🏽🔞

.

.

You turn your car off and step out, accidently slamming the car door behind you. The ground underneath your feet is uneven as you make your way towards the open garage door. The place looks old and the location seems right out of a horror movie, but you push those thoughts aside.

Looking inside the garage you see a man bent over under the hood of a red pick-up truck. His dirty white shirt and oil-stained jeans are all you can see of him.

“Excuse me? Sir? Hi, I’m y/n, I was wondering if you could look at my car?” Your voice is small and polite, like your customer service voice.

König stops working on the truck and stands, looking over at you. His eyes roam your body, taking in your shape before his icy blue eyes finally meet yours. He looks around as if to check if you were here with anyone or if you came alone.

“What’s wrong with it?” He asks stoically not giving away how attracted to you he is just yet.

“I have trouble starting it and when it does turn on it makes this terrible screeching noise,” Your eyes scan his body, his muscles glistening from a light sheen of sweat across his body. His face is stern with scars across his cheek and upper lip, but it doesn’t take away from his handsomeness.

König stays quiet for a while before walking forward and grabbing a rag to wipe his hands off on, “Okay, let me take a look.”

Tossing the rag aside he walks forward towards you with his hand out for your keys. You place them in his palm, his eyes looking down at you as he towers over you with his 6’10 frame. You turn on your heels and walk to your car with König following close behind. His eyes are glued to the way your ass sways with every step you take.

He unlocks your car and leans in to turn the car on. His eyes watching the dashboard as the engine stalls turning over. Once your car eventually does, he hears the loud sound you spoke of and he knows the issue.

“You have a bad alternator.” He steps back and looks down at you before opening the hood of your car. “It’s an easy fix, should only take an hour, two at most.”

His eyes go back to you and his gaze lingers on your cleavage before looking back down at the car, “There are seats in the shop, you can wait there.”

“Okay, thank you.” You walk back to the garage and pull out your phone to help pass the time. You look around to see an old photo of a car and nothing else personal. The space is clean and only the sound of his radio fills the space.

An hour and a half passes by and König walks in. You put your phone back in your bag and stand.

“She turns on, no issues now.” He says as his eyes look around the shop trying not to be too intense with his gaze.

“Oh, thank you so much sir, -”

“König.” He cuts you off, his gaze going back to yours.

“Thank you, König.” You smile warmly at him. Looking down at your purse you begin to fish your wallet out, “How much do I owe you?”

König looks at the wallet in your hands before his gaze travels over your body once more. He wasn’t interested in your money. There is one thing he’s wanted since he saw you walking up to him, you. He didn’t want to be a perve and ask for it, so he just gave you a price, “$600.”

Your face drops as you only have $400 until next payday, “Can I pay $200 now, and the rest later.”

“I don’t take payments.”

“Oh...”

“But,” he walks closer to you, “I’m sure we can figure something out.” His large hand caresses the side of your face, a smirk on his lips.

.

.

You end up in the back of his SUV with blacked out windows parked behind his garage. Your clothes stripped off and thrown on the floor, your body completely exposed to him. His shirt pulled off showing you his muscular abdomen as his pants are pulled down around his knees. A soft blonde happy trail leading from his belly button to his erection. One of his hands gripping your thigh and holding one leg up as his other hand guides his condomless cock to your pussy.

He pushes in slowly at first, letting out a soft groan as he feels how tight you are. Your warm gummy walls wrapping around his cock as he bullies his way inside.

“Mein Gott your pussy is so tight Maus,” he moans as he grabs your other leg now. His lips kiss your legs up to your feet as he slowly bucks his hips forward. Your hands grasp the seat as he fucks you. Pathetic mewls leave your lips, feeling your pussy being stretched to an almost painful point.

“You’re so beautiful…” Letting go of one leg, he moves his hands down to your breast and begins to tug on your nipple, leaning in as his lips find your nipple; licking before sucking on your sensitive peak. His tongue circling around before wrapping his lips around and pulling gently, your fingers combing through his blonde hair. His mind wished you were full of milk so he could drink from you. His hands dropping down to your stomach and caressing your soft skin. Oh, how beautiful you’d look swollen and full with his child.

“You need a man to take care of you Schatzi,” he leans back and looks at your pretty pussy stretching around his fat cock. The sound of your wet cunt sounding like angels singing to him. He pushes both legs back and leans into you more as he begins to pound your pussy harder. His eyes watching your breast bounce before his eyes travel to your stomach. You’re tiny compared to his massive body, but taking his dick so well.

“I could be that man,” he groans, “you’d never have to worry about your car ever again Liebling.” His voice was laced with lust and ecstasy. König has never desired a woman so much before as he desires you.

“Just have my baby, let me fuck my baby into you.” He growls as one of his hands goes to your sopping wet pussy as begins to rub your clit.

Legs twitching, you’re lost in the euphoria of the moment. His cock filling you and making you so dick dizzy you don’t even fully register his words. “Please, yes, fuck me.”

“That’s what I want to fucking hear.” König grabs your leg and moves you on your side. He lays his body behind you on the seat and lifts your leg up. His face by yours as he gently kisses your neck and the side of your face. His cock slipped back into your wet pussy, causing your eyes to flutter. He let out a small sigh, “That’s my girl.”

König moves hair from your face as he continues to kiss all over you, “You’re so perfect Schatzi.”

His hand slowly slips down your thigh as he begins to rub your clit again, “Cum for me Liebling, cum on my cock.”

You turn your head to look at König, his eyebrows pinched together as his mouth hangs open. His eyes meet your and he leans in to kiss your soft lips. His tongue licks your lips before pushing between them. His tongue twirling in yours and tasting you, he’s in heaven. He can feel you begin to tighten around him as your legs begin to tremble. Your kiss begins to get lazy as you concentrate on your orgasm.

“Please, please, please.” You moan out, your breathing heavy. His hand rubs over your swollen sensitive clit faster making you squirm in his arms. You feel how wet you get as your pussy begins to squeeze around his cock, his balls tightening as he is eager to get off.

König’s eyes roll back as he leans his head against the seat now, his arm under you wrapping tightly around your stomach and grabs it.  “Do you want my cum?”

“Yes,” you look back still on a high and watch his face as he closes his eyes while the pleasure takes over his whole being, “please cum in my tight pussy.”

That made him let out a loud groan as he moaned your name. His cock begins to throb as he releases deep inside of you. He leans forward to kiss your neck and check, desperately wanting your lips. You turn your head to meet his lips as you both kiss passionately.

.

.

.

Nine weeks later your car is still running great, but you’re 4 days late.

Part 2

[heavenlyhischier]

‘𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝’ - 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫

word count: 0.8k

summary: you do the ‘call your boyfriend your husband and get his reaction’ trend.

warnings: none! short and sweet. mostly dialogue. it's just cute!

You were scrolling through Tiktok as Nico watched whatever film he needed to for their upcoming game when you got the idea. The trend had appeared a few times on your for you page already, and the thought popped into your head each time, but you were always at work and by the time you got home, you’d forgotten about it. It was harmless and simple, but it was also cute and fun.

You turned your phone off and left it on the coffee table as you approached Nico from behind, wrapping your arms around his front as you leaned on him. He lifted one of his hands to rub the skin of your arm as he turned towards you and gave you a lazy smile. You delicately pressed your lips to his own for a fleeting moment before you pulled away.

“Can we go to that coffee shop down the street,” You ask, your lips turning upwards, “They got a few new drinks I want to try with you!”

Nico couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched your face light up with excitement, but he was quick to agree. The two of you are on your way to the local shop down the road after Nico had paused his game and the both of you slipped on your shoes. He always let you pick the music when you were riding in the car with him, but you always slipped in songs you noticed he’d been listening to recently and it always made him smile. When you had gotten the drinks, one for each of you, you sat back in the car and tried to set your phone up to film.

“What are you doing,” Nico shakes his head as your phone falls for the third time. He picks it up from his floor board and manages to balance it on his dashboard with the help of a half-drunk water bottle. 

“Videoing,” You playfully roll your eyes, “I’m going to post it for this trend that I saw!”

“Okay, schatzi,” He laughs before he relaxes in his seat, watching as you reach for your phone to press the red record button.

“Okay, so my husband and I are going to be trying these new drinks from a little coffee shop in the city,” You begin, doing your best to keep your focus on the screen and your face neutral, but the way the word flows so naturally off your tongue makes you blush.

The use of the word ‘husband’ catches Nico off guard, but he quickly recovers and he can’t stop the smile from forming on his face. He’s only looking at you as you continue talking for a little bit, his eyes wide and adoration. He doesn’t care if it was a simple slip of the tongue, it makes warmth spread in his chest all the same when the word tumbled from your lips.

“First we have the cinnamon bun frappe, so my husband is going to try it and let us know what he thinks,” You grin as you take the cup from its holder and turn to Nico, “It’s not what he usually gets because he thinks it’s too sweet, but he’s going to try it for us right?”

He has a flustered look on his face, his cheeks red and eyes crinkled as he takes the drink from your hands, “Yeah, of course I am.”

He glances away from you and takes a small drink from the straw, his features slightly scrunching from the sweetness of the drink. He lets his gaze flicker over to you and he does his best to look like he enjoyed the sugary drink you mistook for a coffee, but he failed miserably. You giggled as you watched him forcefully swallow the small sip he had taken before looking back at your phone.

“Okay, so that one is not husband approved,” You point out as you let out a small laugh, listening to the way Nico shuffles in his seat so his body is angled towards you.

“Are you saying that on purpose,” He asks, raising his brows when you catch his eye.

“Saying what,” You feign confusion, slightly tilting your head as you bite back a smile of your own.

“Husband,” He smugly smiles as he leans over the center console, “I’m not complaining. I love it actually.”

You watch as he gets closer to you, your body instinctively leaning towards his own like he was your own gravitational pull. His eyes briefly flicker down to your lips as the two of you wait for the other to diminish the small distance between you. You let out a sigh as he reaches a hand over to cup the back of your head, his thumb massaging your scalp.

“Do you really,” You whisper, nudging his nose with your own as you ghost your lips over his.

“Yeah, I really do. Can’t wait until it’s reality one day.”

[leilakisakabiri]

Miami Hot Lap (CL)

Summary: You're forced to do a Miami Hot Lap with your boyfriend.

Warning(s): Just fluff.

A/N: Ahh I love this concept!! Requests are open for Charles and Lando.

Word Count: 800+

Masterlist

Being invited to an F1 race through a brand seemed like a fun idea at first. You would get to see your boyfriend for the first time in weeks, watch the race in your hometown, and somehow still be able to call it work. It was a win-win situation.

That was until they approached you with a video idea.

"So since you're working with one of our sponsored brands for the weekend, a Miami native, and dating a driver, we thought it was only fair to ask you to do the Miami hot lap video." The F1 content manager explained.

"Miami hot lap?" You questioned, unfamiliar with what they wanted you to do.

"Yeah y'know just go for a few laps on the track with a driver. For you, it would be Charles of course." She assured.

You shook your head rapidly, shrinking back, "No thank you. I don't drive with Charles."

"But he's your boyfriend? Surely you've driven with him before?"

You sighed, "Yeah in a city, where he's forced to follow the speed limit, I would never be able to handle going that fast. He's too scary without restrictions."

She furrowed her eyebrows, opening her mouth to respond before she was cut off.

"Spreading lies about me again?"

You felt your lips upturn in a smile as he came up behind you, fingers entwining with yours as he kissed your cheek.

You turned to face him, attempting to be firm, "I love you, but I'm not driving with you." You repeated.

One hour later you found yourself being strapped into the passenger seat of his car, cursing yourself for giving in after he convinced you it wouldn't be that bad.

The camera sat on the dashboard, recording the both of you.

"Go slow," You warned, as he got the green light to pull away.

"We'll get no views then." He argued.

You started at him in disbelief, "Would you rather have more views on a video or have a girlfriend in one piece?"

It was quiet for a beat too long and you put your hand up, "You know what don't answer that. I don't want to know."

"So how do you like driving with me so far?" He asked once you made it past the first lap.

You nodded, "Not bad, right now I feel like we're going to get food."

He smirked, "Well in that case go on and get comfortable."

You eyed him skeptically but you decided to trust him, "Okaaay," you dragged out the word as you slouched a bit more in the seat, letting your body relax against the seat, going as far as to admire the view outside the window.

The peace only lasted for a second before Charles was slamming on the pedal, sending the car lurching forward at record speeds.

While he got a shot of adrenaline, you felt your stomach somersault as your body jolted backward.

“Charles. Charles!!” Your voice filled with panic, fingers grabbing onto the side of the car for dear life, eyes wide as you refused to take your eyes off the rapidly passing road in front of you.

He laughed at your reaction, only stopping once he realized how serious you were. He dropped a hand down to squeeze yours, reassuring you, “Relax I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The supposedly sweet action had the opposite effect, “Keep both your hands on the wheel!” You shrieked, sending him into another fit of laughter.

You put a hand to your forehead in shock and disbelief, "We're going to die."

You felt hysterical, and his shit-eating grin only irked you further.

"We're not going to die. I promise." He swore, trying to calm you down.

You shoved his shoulder, "Your promises mean nothing to me anymore Charles. We're going to die and it's all your fault." you deadpanned.

“Y/n amor I’m barely pushing 90 mph.” He revealed.

Your body froze, before finally losing some tension, “Oh."

You checked the meter seeing that he was telling the truth, "It feels a lot faster,” you argued, “Especially with the sharp turns," you elaborated.

He agreed with you but not before side-eyeing you, "Right."

"So should we go faster?" He proposed.

"Charles," You warned.

"Why so formal?"

You glanced at each other for a second and already knew what would happen from the unfiltered excitement in his eyes, "Hold on amour."

You watched in horror as the meter rapidly rose hitting up to 130mph, you mouthed a "help me" to the camera.

“I think I’m gonna throw up everywhere.” You groaned once the car had finally come to a halt.

Charles patted your head affectionately as you laid your head against your knees, “You’ll be ok.”

“No. I’m going to projectile vomit on this dashboard,” you warned, “I’m never driving with you again.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at your comment but didn't say anything, instead facing the camera.

"Well thanks for joining us today, if you want more videos like this-"

You lifted your head off your knees when you noticed he hadn't finished his sentence, finding him staring at you expectedly.

"Like and subscribe?" you questioned, voice hoarse.

"Exactly. See you guys later!" He waved bye to the camera and moved your head to lay on his lap so you could rest.

[benjinotes]

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - cregan stark

cregan stark x fem reader

summary: to grab your attention, cregan keeps parking his car in your spot. as you deal with his frustrating habit, you both end up clashing and forming a connection you didn’t see coming.

warnings: smut. sub cregan. oral (f receiving). pnv (mentions). breaking celibacy. reader doesn’t have too much patience. cregan likes to test her. fluff. modern au.

wc: +6k (sorry lol), english is not my first language.

The morning sun spread across the horizon, casting a golden glow that gradually enveloped the parking lot where Cregan sat in his Jeep. The light crept across the dashboard and lazily kissed his chiseled features and stubbly beard as he took slow, steady drags from his morning cigarette, the smoke rising in spirals and mingling with the annoyingly warm air filtering through the half-open window.

It was the end of summer, and although the weather had cooled slightly from the peak in July, the heat still lingered, a constant reminder of how much he disapproved of high temperatures and everything they brought. He had a nearly visceral aversion to them—during the summer, clothes would cling uncomfortably to his body, and the constant sweat seemed to eat away at him from within, leaving him restless. Even so, he couldn’t complain too much; autumn was just around the corner, bringing the cold he longed for and the continuation of the new semester.

Truth be told, he wasn't looking forward to going back to college. Far from it, actually. While summer wasn't his favorite season, he appreciated the solitude it offered—the freedom of late-night adventures, the revelry of parties, and the blissful absence of anxiety from procrastination. Yet, as much as he valued these fleeting comforts, they paled in comparison to the almost biting chill of fall and the deep anticipation of seeing you again.

The intense heat of sun seemed to mirror the depth of his desire for you. Just as the relentless sun made each day increasingly stifling and uncomfortable, his longing for you burned with equal intensity. The oppressive warmth was almost a reminder of the consuming passion within him, reflecting his growing sense of desperation and need.

Cregan didn't know how long he had longed for you, for he barely noticed when the desire he felt for you turned into something so deep and intense that it seemed to consume his veins with infernal heat, heating his body to levels that even the incessant heat of the sun could not do. summer could explain. He felt almost suffocated even though he was trapped against his will, but without knowing whether he should give in to frustration or despair with the anxiety he felt.

The last three months without you had been difficult, if not unbearable, for him. It was as if you had vanished from the world, and that left him on the brink of despair. Each day that passed without any word from you widened the hole in his chest a little more, and the fact that you ignored all 20 friend requests he sent you on social media only made things worse.

Being near you, no matter how torturous it could be at times, was a confinement he chose willingly. But being away from you? That was a true prison for him, an unrelenting agony that nearly consumed him from within.

One thing was certain: if it hadn’t been for Jacaerys, his best friend, he probably would have done something reckless and gone after you just to make sure you were okay. It was Jacaerys who held him back and allowed him to see your social media through his account, and although he was upset that you wouldn’t let him follow you, there was a strange comfort in knowing that his best friend did. However, this only made things worse. He was becoming fully aware of just how down bad he was for you—and that was, at the very least, humiliating.

It was humiliating—everything Cregan was doing at this point, and he knew it. His friends knew, and everyone around him knew. After all, he had been on celibate for months simply because he couldn’t imagine being with any woman other than you, even though you seemed more inclined to kick him in the balls than anything else.

And now, he was resorting to the same tactic he used months ago: parking in your spot just to provoke you into getting angry with him before class. Sometimes, he honestly felt that his fixation had reached a point of no return.

Taking the last drag from his cigarette, Cregan leaned further into the front seat of his Jeep, turned on the air conditioning slightly, and closed his eyes, waiting for you to arrive and complain so he could finally escape the sun. Fortunately for Cregan, less than five minutes later, he was startled by a light but furious knock on the Jeep's window. He had to hold back a smile as he saw your irritated expression outside.You looked so hot and so damn pretty.

"Hello, dear," he began, placing both hands behind his head as he looked at you with a smirk, trying to mask the rapid beating of his heart. "Is something wrong?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What the hell are you doing in my car spot?!" You nearly shouted, your cheeks growing redder with anger at his persistence. Cregan, however, didn’t seem at all bothered; if anything, his smile widened with every increase in your voice.

"I thought you’d matured over the summer break," you said through gritted teeth, glancing around at the people who were starting to stare. Despite your frustration, Cregan appeared more amused, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease you even further.

"First of all, this parking lot is public," he said with a teasing hum, his smirk growing as he slowly opened the window, clearly enjoying your irritated and impatient expression. "Secondly, did you really think I’d matured over these months?" His voice carried a hint of hidden amusement, though you didn’t seem to notice. You let out a deep sigh, trying to mask your frustration.

If you were being honest, no, you didn’t think he had matured. He had always been a bit much since the day you met him—constantly praising you almost directly or irritating you on purpose just to get a reaction. It didn’t help that he kept sending friend requests, which you declined every time, or that Jace was always one of the first to see your posts after Cregan made it clear you two were together.

The truth was, you didn’t think he’d changed at all. If anything, based on the look he was giving you, he was probably the same or even worse. And you weren't sure how much longer you could tolerate him irritating you like this.

"I literally paid for this spot, Cregan!" you hissed in a hushed whisper, trying not to attract even more attention. But you had to look away when you felt his intense gaze on you—the fact that he was so handsome didn’t help at all. "And besides, you don’t even have classes on this campus, so what’s your excuse for being here?" you demanded, already irritated, as you pressed your hand to your forehead a bit too aggressively.

Cregan’s smile widened as he noticed the frustration in your eyes and how you avoided his gaze. He knew you found him attractive—he had overheard you admitting it to a friend a few months ago, and the memory filled him with smug satisfaction. While he was used to attention from other girls, knowing that you, the one person who truly mattered to him, found him appealing was different. You were the only woman he cared about and the only one he wanted to touch.

You drove him insane. It wasn’t just an obsession anymore; it was a madness that consumed him completely. Every thought and every impulse he had was dominated by you, and the distance you kept between the two of you was unbearable. You were a constant in his mind, a presence that refused to let his sanity remain intact. But either way, he liked that, he loved that.

"I just wanted to say hello, dear," Cregan said after a few seconds, blinking with exaggerated fake innocence, his voice almost a teasing melody as he leaned closer to the car window, trying to get as close to you as possible. "I missed you." He continued to hum playfully, but there was something in the way he said it that made you almost certain there was a hint of truth behind the teasing.

Even though you tried to stay composed, you couldn’t stand how easily he got under your skin. A few words from him were enough to make your heart race, and his effortless charm was maddening. Despite your resistance, you couldn’t deny the strange attraction you felt toward him or how annoyingly handsome he was—even with his scruffy beard. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape his pull. You felt trapped.

"Well, you can say hello from anywhere but my parking spot," you retorted, striving for firmness even though your voice wavered slightly. "So move your Jeep, or I’ll call a tow truck." You took a few steps back, increasing the distance between you, which seemed to disappoint him slightly.

Despite that Cregan’s smile lingered, though now it was tempered with a hint of reluctance. He made no move to move his Jeep; his gaze fixed intently on you as he furrowed his brow, as if evaluating his next move.

"Are you really going to call a tow truck?" he finally asked, his voice carrying the same playful tone. He leaned slightly out of the open window, his heart racing, when he noticed you glancing at his lips for a fleeting moment. He had to work hard to suppress a more genuine smile that threatened to surface.

To you, it was evident that he was deliberately prolonging the situation. The tension between you was palpable, and it was clear that he was savoring the game he was playing with you. Plus the fact his smile widened slightly as he observed you struggling not to look at his lips, made you almost sick. "Come on," he continued, his tone taking on an almost earnest edge as he noticed your hesitation to respond. "Is all this stress really worth it? I’m just trying to say hello." And to stay close to you, he almost said.

"You really haven’t changed, have you?" you asked, frustration evident in your voice as you tightened your grip on your car keys. "I thought you might have matured this semester." Your sharp eyes locked with his playful ones, daring him to defy your words.

Cregan blinked, and his smile grew wider in a flash. "Does that mean you’ve been thinking about me, dear?" He purred, barely containing his amusement as he watched a blush creep up your neck. The idea seemed to delight him, adding an unexpected warmth to his expression.

You opened and closed your mouth, stunned by the audacity of his question. He wasn’t completely off the mark; you had, indeed, thought about him. But admitting that to Cregan was unthinkable. You knew he’d never let it go, relishing every moment of your discomfort. It was as if he shed all pretense of maturity around you, or perhaps he felt most himself when he was with you. Either way, one thing was clear: you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of an admission.

Swallowing hard, you gave a dry cough, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks as you tightened your grip on the keys in your hand, determined to resist the lazy, piercing gaze that seemed to follow your every move. "Don’t flatter yourself," you shot back, striving for indifference despite his penetrating stare. "I have better things to think about than you."

Cregan’s smile didn’t falter at your bold, if slightly unsteady, retort. If anything, it widened as he leaned further out of the window, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Better things? Then why do you look so flustered? " he asked, feigning innocence, though his gaze was anything but that. Three months ago, he would have flirted and walked away, but your absence had only drawn him closer, and now, the idea of being with another woman, if it wasn’t you, repulsed him. 

"I’m not flustered," you lied, clenching your jaw, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. He had to fight the urge to glance at your neck, where the blush was deepening. "I’m just tired of these childish games." You rubbed your forehead in frustration, glaring at him with renewed irritation. 

His expression softened slightly at your tone, but the lazy, teasing smirk on his lips remained. "Childish? Maybe. But you’re still giving me attention, aren’t you?" he teased. 

If there was one thing he enjoyed, it was attempting your patience.

You opened your mouth to protest but found yourself at a loss for words. He wasn’t wrong—you were engaging with his provocations, letting him drag you into this ridiculous game and burrow even deeper under your skin. The fact that he was lingering in your parking spot longer than usual unsettled you, but what bothered you more was that part of you was enjoying it. You were furious at yourself for letting his teasing get to you.

There was something about Cregan that made it impossible for you to walk away, even though you knew you should for your own peace of mind.

"You’re impossible," you finally muttered after a few seconds, struggling to find the right words and shaking your head as if to clear it. "Just move your jeep, Cregan. I don’t have time for this," you insisted, loosening your grip on your car keys.

But he still didn’t move, and the intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat—though you didn’t realize his heart was racing just as fast. "You know," he said softly, his voice losing some of its teasing edge. "I’m not just here to annoy you. I actually wanted to see you" He admitted it quietly, as if he didn’t want anyone else in the parking lot to hear it.

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily at a loss for words. This was a side of him you weren’t used to—a vulnerability typically masked by layers of sarcasm and provocation. And now, that facade was replaced by softness and even a hint of submission, making you hesitate for just a moment.

But then you remembered the situation you were in and how he always seemed to know exactly how to provoke you in the most infuriating way. It steeled you against the pull he had over you. “Well, now you’ve seen me," you replied, your voice firmer than before, though a blush still lingered on your cheeks. "So either move the car, or I’ll have it moved." You threatened, causing Cregan to sigh dramatically as he finally started up his old Jeep, his gaze softer than it had been before.

Without further excuses, Cregan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, stubbing out his cigarette in the small car ashtray before shifting the Jeep into gear. The engine roared to life as he began to back out of the spot slowly, each movement deliberate, as if he were savoring the final moments of this intense interaction. He kept his eyes on you nearly the entire time, watching for your reaction.

As the Jeep was coming out of the spot, Cregan, with the window already down, leaned out a bit further. "You know," he said, his voice now softer but still playful. "I really appreciate how you keep me on my toes. It makes life a bit more interesting." He teased with his smooth but soft voice, which carried a hint of truth in its tone.

You crossed your arms, attempting to maintain a stern expression, though your irritation waned as you caught sight of his clear eyes. The flush on your cheeks reminded you of how easily he could affect you. "I’m glad I can provide you with some entertainment,” you said sarcastically, your tone less sharp despite the rapid beating of your heart and the previous irritation. "But I have a class to get to."

Cregan nodded, his less playful smile giving way to a more sincere expression. "Alright, alright," he said, his heart racing as he noticed how your t-shirt hugged your waist. "I’ll be on my way. Try not to think too much about me." He offered another small smile, the playful tone now replaced with a softer one.

Raising an eyebrow, you kept your gaze fixed on him, trying to suppress a blush as you noticed how his arm muscles had grown over the summer. "I’ll keep that in mind," you said, before turning back to your car, feeling a touch of satisfaction as you sensed his eyes lingering on you, almost burning a hole through your back.

Cregan cast one last glance at you as he pulled away in his Jeep, his heart still pounding. He bit his lip, recalling your expression and the way he caught you looking at his lips. For a moment, he had forgotten the heat of the day, perhaps because being near you made him feel at ease. But as he drove toward his campus away from you, a feeling of unease began to creep in.

When he arrived at campus, he found the main parking lot completely full. Frustrated, he turned to park the Jeep in a more distant spot near the campus convenience store, muttering small curses under his breath as he maneuvered.

As Cregan stepped out of the car, he noticed Jace emerging from the small store with a carton of chocolate milk in hand. Catching Cregan’s gaze, the shorter guy waved and walked over with a smile. "Hey, Cregan." Jace said as he joined him. "Why’d you park so far away?" he asked lazily, taking a long sip of his drink.

Cregan forced a smile, trying to appear carefree as he hid his sweaty hands behind his back. It was clear, though, that he was still preoccupied with the conversation he’d just had with you. "You know," he replied vaguely, shrugging as he walked alongside his friend, attempting to mask his thoughts.

Jacaerys eyed his friend closely. "You went to bother that poor girl again, didn’t you?" He asked, his knowing expression making it obvious he already knew the answer.

That question prompted a wry smile from Cregan. "You always know everything, don’t you?" he remarked, attempting to keep his tone relaxed. But he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the way your lips had twisted in annoyance as you grumbled at him.

Shaking his head, Jace chuckled softly, briefly coughing when he nearly choked on his chocolate milk. "Well, it’s my job," he said sarcastically. When Cregan didn’t respond, he cleared his throat and continued, "Baela told me your girl is going to the house party on Friday."

Hearing this, Cregan’s interest was immediately piqued, and he looked sharply at his friend. Yet he couldn’t ignore the confusion stirred by Jace’s tone. "And what’s your point?" he asked, his curiosity showing as he pulled another cigarette from his pocket.

"Well," Jace began thoughtfully, though Cregan suspected he already knew the advice he was about to give. "If you really want a chance with her, maybe it’s better to give her some space until the party. That way, you can approach her in a more relaxed way and, you know…" Jace trailed off, letting his words hang. Cregan raised an eyebrow. "Be less… you," Jace finally said. The taller man shrugged, mulling over the advice as it began to make sense.

Jacaerys was almost certain he could see the gears turning in his friend’s head.

He was almost certain that meeting in that environment could help forge a connection between the two of you, and he was willing to take the risk. "I’ll take your advice and see how things go at the party," Cregan said, taking a long drag from his cigarette as he followed his best friend into the campus building.

─────── ─────── ───────

Friday had arrived, and the party was in full swing. The old, two-story house near campus was packed with students eager to unwind after the first week of college. Music boomed, vibrating through the walls, and the scent of cheap beer mixed with sweat and perfume. Laughter and shouts echoed through the crowded hallways, where people were so tightly packed it was a wonder anyone could move.

Cregan stood at the edge of the living room, scanning the crowd. His usual confident demeanor was subdued by a palpable tension, the kind that comes with anticipation. He hadn't seen or spoken to you since his conversation with Jace, and he was starting to regret it.

His mood had worsened over the past few days since he stopped parking in your spot. Even though he was so close to you, well, at the same college, he couldn’t see you, and it was starting to weigh on him on an extreme level. During the summer break, he had a legitimate reason not to see you—after all, you seemed to be avoiding him, or maybe it was just in his head—but now, having made the decision to stay away from you on his own, he was growing frustrated with himself. He felt stupid, to say the least.

Sometimes, he wanted to kick himself for listening to Jace.

Suddenly, he was pulled from his thoughts—thoughts that kept drifting to you, despite his best efforts—by a girl who approached with a sly smile on her lips. She was attractive—the kind of girl who would normally catch Cregan's attention without even trying. But tonight, he was distracted, and her presence only heightened the desire he felt for you and the satisfaction he took in choosing celibacy because of you.

"You’re Cregan, aren’t you?" the girl asked as she got close enough, and he nodded with little interest, trying to resist the urge to wrinkle his nose at her approach as the strong scent of her perfume filled the space between them. It wasn’t unpleasant, but he found himself longing for something lighter, sweeter—like the refreshing aroma he associated with you. "What are you doing just standing here?" she continued, her smile never fading.

Cregan turned his gaze from the girl to the door, shrugging slightly as he tried to maintain a polite demeanor. "I’m just taking a break," he said, his voice flat and distant. He cleared his throat, realizing his tone was more curt than he intended. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t care much; his mind was focused on finding you, and the girl’s presence was a minor distraction he could barely tolerate.

From the corner of his eye, Cregan noticed the girl’s surprise at his lack of enthusiasm, but he couldn’t have cared less. His mind was entirely consumed by thoughts of you, and the growing urgency to find you made every other interaction feel like an unwelcome distraction. The intensity of his desire for you made the presence of any other girl and their attempts at conversation seem utterly insignificant.

"You’re not really in the mood for company, are you?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly. Cregan gave her a brief, indifferent glance before nodding. With a resigned sigh, she took a step back, clearly uncertain about what to do next.

"Okay, I understand," she said once more, but he remained focused on the floor, ignoring her. "Look for me if you need company," she added, her voice trailing off as she noticed his disinterest. With a final, frustrated sigh, she turned and walked away, leaving him to continue his search for you, oblivious to her departure.

After a few minutes of waiting, growing increasingly restless, Cregan sighed and decided to search for you himself, diving into the dense crowd of sweaty and inebriated students. The music blared around him, mingling with the chaotic hum of conversations, making it difficult to focus. Despite the overwhelming noise and heat, he moved with determination, pushing through the crowd in pursuit of finding you.

He scanned every face and every group, hoping to catch a glimpse of you amid the chaos. The heat and noise of the party only heightened his anxiety, but he pressed on, driven by the urgent need to find you. He needed to see you, even if it was just for another exchange of barbs or the flirtatious remarks you used to make. He just wanted to be near you, and all his rational thoughts seemed to disappear when it came to you.

Cregan’s search felt endless, each moment blending into the next as he navigated the throng of bodies. His gaze flitted from face to face, his mind consumed by the one person who dominated his thoughts: you.

Then, through a gap in the crowd, he caught sight of you in a small room downstairs. You were laughing with Baela and Rhaena, a cup of beer in hand. Cregan's heart raced at the sight of you, his gaze lingering on the way your clothes accentuated your curves. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, feeling a surge of nervous anticipation.

Without waiting too long, he took a deep breath and moved toward you, once again carefully navigating through the sea of people, his heart racing as he approached. As he got closer, he couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh at your soft yet somehow scandalous laughter, which made him quicken his pace. 

Summoning his courage, he stepped closer, his eyes locked on your face as he fought to keep his gaze steady. He cleared his throat, hoping to get your attention without startling you. "Hi," he said, his voice betraying only a hint of the nerves he felt. You looked up at him, surprised. "How’s it going, dear?" he asked, trying to sound casual as he used the tone that was uniquely his with you.

You blinked slowly, not noticing how the twins giggled and moved away to another part of the room, giving you privacy with Cregan. The truth was, you were surprised. Cregan hadn’t been occupying your parking spot for the past three days, which was unsettling since, for the last seven months—on the days you had classes—he was always there with his Jeep, waiting to exchange sarcastic remarks or even flirt with you.

And although you didn’t want to admit it, his absence made you more uncomfortable than you had anticipated.

"Oh, hi, Cregan," you replied, immediately regretting the brevity and dryness of your response when you saw his expression falter slightly. "I haven’t seen you the last few days. Are you okay?" you asked, trying to steady your breath as he moved closer. Despite your efforts to stay composed, he seemed entirely focused on you, his eyes locked onto yours.

He could smell your refreshing scent, and it was already making him a bit dizzy and thirsting for more.

"I am." Cregan replied in a softer voice, stopping in front of you, and you had to lift your head to look into his eyes. "Why do you want to know? Did you miss me?" He hummed lightly, not taking his gaze off your lips, which made you blush visibly.

You blinked at his question, momentarily caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. You tried to maintain your composure, but the way he looked at you made it difficult. "Maybe," you said, your voice softer than you intended. For a moment, you saw his eyes widen before he quickly regained his composure.

To say he was surprised was an understatement. He was astonished, to say the least. You had always seemed indifferent to his advances and flirtations, so the softness in your voice now was unexpected. Despite his enjoyment of your acidic responses, he couldn't help but feel pleased. For a moment, he was grateful he had followed Jacaerys's advice, realizing that this moment might never have happened otherwise.

Cregan stepped closer, his breath hitching as he watched your expression. The air between you buzzed with a tension that sent his heart racing, and he was almost sure you felt it too when he saw the rise and fall of your chest. Maybe it was how your breaths seemed to sync or how you were both so engrossed in each other that the surrounding noise faded into the background. Either way, he was content, sensing that you were as well.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low as his face hovered just inches from yours."Because I missed you too." He sighed, his voice devoid of its usual playful tone, filled instead with genuine and almost desperate sincerity.

Then, before he could say anything else, you rose onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his in a way so possessive and sudden that his eyes widened in surprise, momentarily stunned by what was happening. But it didn’t take long for him to close his eyes and wrap a strong arm around your waist, returning the kiss with a desperation that made you briefly question if this was the same Cregan who used to tease you every morning.

The kiss was intense, and he let you take the lead, too lost in your lips to even think about taking control of the kiss. He nearly groaned when your tongue met his, massaging it in a rough yet gentle way. He was almost drunk, so lost in the kiss that when your hips brushed lightly against him, he pulled back, his gaze roaming over your hody, filled with desire.

"Please, let’s get out of here," he murmured, his voice almost desperate, arms still wrapped firmly around your waist as he gazed at you with intense, pleading eyes. "Please," he repeated, the word laced with urgency. Though his sudden vulnerability caught you off guard, you gave a slight nod, and without wasting another moment, he gently took your arm, eager to continue what had just begun.

─────── ─────── ───────

You weren’t sure exactly what made you pull him close or kiss him with such intensity and need. Maybe it was the fear of him leaving you and the uncertainty of how you would cope without him after becoming so accustomed to his presence. Perhaps it was the way he embodied chaos, or maybe it was the fact that he looked so captivating under the soft party lights, just a short distance from his place. Whatever the reason, you found yourself lost in the moment, and you didn’t regret your decision.

You didn’t regret letting go of your pride, because if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to kiss him with such intensity the moment you reached his room. Nor would you have been able to ride his cock with such slow, deliberate movements that it brought tears to his eyes as he begged and cried for more. 

It was an exhilarating thrill to have a man of his size pleading for your body and pleasure, and you embraced every moment. Each desperate cry he made and every whispered plea and praise as he lavished kisses and worshipped you heightened your satisfaction and inflated your ego.

You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed his devoted attention, especially as he eagerly explored every inch of you between your legs with the same tongue he used to provoke you.

Cregan's tongue worked your pussy with expert skill; his desperation was so intense that it was as if he were drunk on your taste. Each frantic suck on your clit had you murmuring incoherent words as you pressed your hips closer to his face. And grinned, moaning with each movement, holding your legs open firmly to keep devouring you.

"Cregan!" you tried to say between breaths, but he seemed to be lost between your legs, too focused on pleasing you. He just continued his relentless movements, his moans muffled against you as he rubbed his hips against his sheets, desperately seeking his own release while he devoured you.

"You have to stay still," he said against your pussy, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. "Please?" he begged, and you nodded, glancing down to see his desperate eyes, glistening with tears at the corners.

You couldn't resist saying yes to him when he looked at you with those expectant eyes and spoke to you in a voice so soft and different from what you were used to, and you almost broke when he returned to licking your clit in a desperate and subtle way, almost as if he were desperate for more.

What you didn't know was how truly desperate Cregan was. This was the most intense thing he'd done in months, and his long period of celibacy only made him savor every moment more. He was so immersed in the pleasure of the moment that he felt if he were to die right there between your legs, he'd die utterly satisfied. And damn, he was on the brink of bliss, completely overwhelmed by you. Just you.

Your moans grew louder as Cregan continued to savour every inch of your clit. His movements became increasingly frantic and so desperate, as your pleasure mounted, you felt your body on the brink of climax. The pressure built up, making you shiver.

The way he licked and sucked at you with such urgency was overwhelming. Each touch of his tongue provided an intense stimulus that made you writhe. Despite your escalating pleasure, Cregan seemed even more satisfied. Your moans grew louder as Cregan continued to explore every inch of your clit. His movements became increasingly frantic and desperate, and as your pleasure mounted, you felt your body on the brink of climax. The pressure built up, making you shiver.

The way he licked and sucked at you with such urgency was overwhelming. Each touch of his tongue provided an intense stimulus that made you writhe. Despite your escalating pleasure, he seemed even more satisfied. His hips ground against the sheets, his restless movements intensifying the pleasure and causing him to moan against your pussy.

As the tension reached its peak, waves of intense pleasure overwhelmed you, your body writhing and trembling as you tried to hold on just a little longer, savoring the almost pathetic pleas of Cregan. But it was impossible to delay your orgasm, which hit you with a force that made your legs wrap around his head.

And, realizing that you had climaxed, Cregan lost control, letting out a moan as he licked up your release. His hips ground even harder against the sheets, desperately seeking his own orgasm. His moans grew louder and more intense, making you smile through your heavy breaths. Soon, he too reached his peak, his body trembling as he clutched at your waist.

Still holding your waist, Cregan managed to rise with effort, kicking the sheet aside and grabbing another to cover both of you. He lay down beside you and couldn’t resist planting one last soft kiss on your lips when he saw how beautiful you looked. Pulling you closer to his chest, he gently stroked your hair and placed tender kisses on your forehead, making you smile with contentment at this new side of him you had discovered.

After a few minutes, as the mood softened, he turned to you with a satisfied, playful grin, the same grin you were familiar with. "It’s time for you to accept my friend request," he said with a hint of sarcasm, tucking a few stray strands of your hair behind your ear.

You looked at him with a tired, lazy smile, raising an eyebrow playfully. "Shut up," you replied cheekily. He laughed one last time, clearly pleased with your response.

You might not be the sweetest person he knew, but it’s you who he wants.

2024 © do not repost or translate my work anywhere else.

— likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

i deleted a really big part of this smut because it was 4 a.m., and I was kind of ‘😵‍💫😵‍💫’. i really disliked this smut and tried to save as much as i could.

cregan tag list (open): @jacaerysgf @hobis-hope95 @velaryonbastard @throughgoeshamilton @housetargaryenloyalist

[cowboybeepboop]

Lost in you

"God, I can't get enough of you..."

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader

Genre: smut (all smut)

Word count: 3.8k

Summary: You’re coming home from the bar with Tyler when things get a little bit intimate.

Warnings: p in v sex, no protection, lots of oral, hand kink ig?

a/n: I don’t really have much to say this time around other than like I hope y'all enjoy 😝

As the neon lights of the bar faded into the rearview mirror, the cool night air filled the car with a gentle hum. Tyler expertly navigates the quiet, winding streets, the dashboard lights casting a soft glow on his focused face. The silence between you was comfortable, a testament to the years of friendship that had grown stronger with every shared experience. You lean back into the passenger seat, mind wandering through the memories of the evening's laughter and banter, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders.

He took the silence as an opportunity to glance at you, taking in your features illuminated by the low light. His eyes traced the curve of your cheek, the slope of your nose, all the way down to your lips. He quickly darted his eyes back to the road. Not wanting to stare.

His mind wandered the same as yours, thinking of every little thing that happened that night. Every laugh, smile, and touch that he shared with you. He took a deep breath, trying to push those thoughts out of his mind.

Your eyes wander over to Tyler, a small blush creeping up your cheeks as you notice his hands. His strong, big and veiny hands. Your mind fills with thoughts of what they could do to you. Fantasizing about them all over your body as he pleasures you, causing you to suck in a deep breath.

He heard the shift in your breathing and his grip around the steering wheel noticeably tightened. He could almost sense the change in energy coming off you. He took another deep breath, his thoughts and imagination starting to run wild.

He tried to clear his mind, telling himself that he shouldn’t be thinking about you in those ways, but he couldn’t help it. He’d been silently dealing with his growing feelings for you since he met you.

Your skirt slides up your thighs slightly as you move around in your seat, noticing the way his arm flexes as he turns. As you adjusted yourself he noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye and his gaze immediately went to your exposed skin, his hand moves as if on auto pilot, reaching out to touch your bare thigh.

His breathing hitches in his throat, and a spark of electricity courses through his body. He feels your skin under his rough, calloused hands and his grip reflexively tightens a bit before loosening and softly caressing your thigh.

A quiet moan slips out of your parted lips as he squeezes your skin. Your breathing becomes slightly ragged as he slides his hand further up your thigh. He grips your thigh tighter, his mind and body filled with this sudden urgency.

He tries to fight the urge growing in him, but the way your breath hitches and the quiet sounds coming from you make it nearly impossible. His hand moves further up your thigh, his fingers tracing soft patterns along your skin, his knuckles lightly brushing against the edge of your underwear. He takes another deep breath, his heart beating out of his chest.

“Ty..” you gasp out his name as your head falls back against the seat. Your hand moves down to his as your legs spread open, guiding his fingers between them. The sound of his name coming from your soft, parted lips was music to his ears. He watched as you repositioned his hand and his breath hitched.

He could feel the soft, damp fabric of your underwear as his fingers ran along the edge of them, his hand twitching and slightly clenching.

His chest ached and his mind went blank, except for thoughts of you and the sounds coming from you. He pushed his finger gently against the damp fabric earning a desperate moan from you.

Tyler's hand slipped under the fabric of your underwear, his fingers delicately exploring the slickness he found there. Your eyes snapped open, meeting his in the dimly lit car, and for a moment, you both froze, the gravity of the moment heavy in the air.

But the heat and desire in your gaze only spurred him on. He began to rub in gentle circles, matching the rhythm of your hips as they rolled in silent plea. The car's soft purr and the quiet whispers of the night outside became a distant backdrop to the symphony of your mingled breaths and the intimate dance of your bodies.

As he touches you, you guide him to where you need it most. The connection was palpable, the line between friendship and something more blurring with every touch.

Your hand slid over the bulge in Tyler's jeans with surprising confidence, and when you gripped him firmly, his eyes widened in shock before a groan of pleasure escaped his lips. You felt his cock, hard and hot, pulsing in your hand as you began to stroke him.

The car's interior grew even more intimate as you both succumbed to the heady rush of desire. His eyes never left the road, but his focus was split as he felt your hand moving over him, feeling the weight and heat of his arousal in your grip.

The sound of your breathing grew heavier as you worked him, matching the tempo of his movements against your pussy. The leather of the steering wheel creaked under his white-knuckled grasp as he fought to maintain control of the car and the situation, but the raw passion in the air was undeniable.

The car's speed remained steady, but the rhythm of your bodies grew more urgent, a silent promise of the explosive release that was building between you.

As the truck pulls onto your street, the heat of your desire almost tangible. The heady scent of arousal filled the small space, mingling with the faint aroma of leather and the cool night breeze that slipped in through the slightly open windows.

Tyler's eyes remained fixed on the road, his breathing ragged and his pulse racing as he felt the warmth of your orgasm against his fingertips. You bit your bottom lip to stifle a cry, your eyes squeezed shut as your body convulsed in pleasure, your hand tightening around his cock.

The muscles in his arm strained as he stroked you faster, eager to feel you come apart under his touch. Then, as the car rolled to a gentle stop, it happened. Your body arched, and with a keening wail, you climaxed, your walls clenching around his fingers.

The sudden tightness and wetness sent Tyler over the edge as well, his hips jerking involuntarily as he spilled his release into your grasp. The world outside the car was still and quiet, the only sounds the erratic thumping of your hearts and the soft whimpers escaping your mouths.

For a moment, you both sat there, panting and trembling, the aftershocks of your shared climax resonating through your bodies. The reality of what had just occurred washed over you, and you slowly opened your eyes to find Tyler looking at you with a mix of awe and vulnerability.

The silence was deafening, the unspoken question hanging in the air like a heavy fog. What did this mean for your friendship? What path had you just ventured down? But in that moment, all you could do was look at him, your breathing still uneven.

With trembling legs, you managed to exit the car, the night air brushing against your flushed skin as you stepped out onto the sidewalk. Your hand lingered on the door handle for a brief moment, giving Tyler a chance to come to terms with the raw intimacy that had just unfolded.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face him, the intensity in his gaze made your pulse race, and you hoped he would read the unspoken invitation in your eyes. You took a deep breath, biting your bottom lip as you leaned against the car door, watching him closely.

The silence stretched out between you, filled with the promise of what could come next. Without a word, you turned and began walking towards the house, your hips swaying with a newfound allure that seemed to beckon him to follow. Each step you took felt like a silent dare, and as you reached the door, you glanced over your shoulder, the anticipation building as you awaited his decision.

Tyler's heart hammered in his chest as he stumbled out of the car, his legs weak from the intensity of the moment. He watched you saunter away, your hips swaying in a way that seemed to beckon him closer.

His mind raced with the possibilities of what could happen once you crossed the threshold of your house. The chemistry between you was like a live wire, crackling with electricity, demanding to be touched again. He took a deep, shaky breath and followed you, his legs moving almost of their own accord.

Each step brought him closer to the door, closer to the promise of passion that was unfurling in the air. His hand reached out, brushing against your lower back, and you turned to face him, the door to your house open and inviting. Your eyes searched his, looking for the same desperate need that had taken over your body.

The moment Tyler stepped into the house, the air thickened with anticipation. He closed the door behind him, and without a word, you found yourself in his arms, your bodies colliding with a desperation that had been simmering for too long.

His hands cupped your face as his mouth claimed yours in a fiery kiss that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire being. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as your tongues danced together, exploring and claiming each other.

His hands roamed down your body, finally landing on your waist, and with a gentle yet firm grip, he lifted you up and pushed you against the soft cushions of your couch. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, drawing him closer, and you could feel the insistent pressure of his hard cock against your wet pussy.

The fabric of your clothes was the only barrier between you, and it was a barrier that felt as flimsy as the line that once separated friendship from desire. Tyler's kisses grew more urgent as he slipped between your legs, his hands exploring the soft skin of your thighs, the heat of his palms leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched.

The world outside your entwined limbs ceased to exist as you became lost in the intoxicating maelstrom of passion that had been unleashed.

With a gentle touch, Tyler trailed kisses down your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His lips found the soft mounds of your breasts, peeking out from your bra, and he took one into his mouth, teasing the sensitive peak with his tongue.

You moaned softly, arching your back to give him better access as he unhooked the clasp and let the fabric fall away. His kisses continued downward, his hands working to unbutton your blouse, exposing your stomach to the cool air.

Each new inch of skin he revealed was met with a soft nip or a gentle suck, setting your body alight with need. The sound of your own gasps and his hungry growls filled the room as he peeled away your clothes, revealing your nakedness inch by inch. His eyes never left yours, the heat in them burning as brightly as the passion that flared between you.

Finally, he reached the waistband of your skirt, and with trembling hands, he slid it down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your damp underwear. His gaze took in the sight of you, sprawled out before him, vulnerable and open. With a flick of his thumb, he pushed aside the fabric and kissed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, the anticipation building as his mouth drew closer to your pussy.

The touch of his lips was like a brand, leaving a trail of fire as he kissed and licked his way to your center. Your legs tightened around his neck, guiding him closer, and when his tongue finally found your clit, you cried out, your body jolting with pleasure.

The taste of you was intoxicating, and he couldn't get enough, his tongue circling and flicking as you squirmed beneath him. The room spun with desire, and all you could do was hold onto the edge of the couch, your body quivering as he devoured you.

With a feral growl, Tyler's mouth found your center, his tongue plunging into your wet heat with an intensity that left you gasping for air. He lapped and sucked at your clit with a hunger that seemed to have been building for an eternity, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh just enough to make you squirm.

His hands gripped your thighs tightly, holding you in place as you bucked against his face, your hips moving in a silent plea for more. He was relentless, his mouth working you with a finesse that spoke of his desperate need to bring you to the brink and watch you shatter.

Each flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, and every suck was a declaration of his craving for you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, your breath coming in pants and whimpers as he feasted on you. Your climax built with every stroke, coiling tighter and tighter in your core until it was all you could feel, a delicious pressure that demanded release. And when it came, it was like a dam breaking, a flood of sensation that had you screaming his name, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm.

Tyler drank in every drop, his eyes never leaving yours, the look of pure triumph and adoration on his face only adding to the intensity of the moment. He kissed your thighs softly as you came down from the high, your legs trembling and your heart racing.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, Tyler looked up at you with a fiery gaze that seemed to pierce through your soul. You sigh out his name, bashfully covering your exposed breasts with your hands, feeling a mix of vulnerability and satisfaction that washed over you like a warm wave.

His eyes remained locked on yours, a silent conversation passing between you that needed no words. With a gentle smile, he placed a soft kiss on your inner thigh before rising to his feet, his erection straining against his pants.

He reached out a hand, helping you to stand on wobbly legs, and led you to your bedroom, the anticipation of what was to come thick in the air. Each step was a silent promise of the passion that was about to unfold as you stepped into the sanctum of your desires. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight that filtered through the curtains, casting shadows that danced across the walls as you approached the bed.

The mattress dipped under Tyler's weight as he sat on the edge, his hand reaching for the button of his own jeans. With trembling hands, you watched as he revealed himself to you, his cock standing proud and demanding your attention. The sight of him, so open and eager, made your pulse quicken, and your own desire grew stronger with every beat of your heart.

You stepped closer, dropping your hands from your breasts, allowing him to see all of you. His eyes roamed over your naked body, a look of awe and desire that made your knees go weak. And in that moment, as you both stood there, the air charged with the electricity of your newfound love, you knew that there was no going back to the way things were before.

This was the start of a journey that would redefine everything you thought you knew about passion and connection.

With a sense of empowerment, you sank to your knees before Tyler, his cock bobbing in front of your face. You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent, and wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft, feeling the pulse of his need against your palm.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you leaned in and kissed the tip gently, tasting the salty precum that beaded there. His eyes closed, and a soft groan rumbled from his chest, the sound sending a thrill through your own body.

You took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head before you began to take him deeper, inch by inch. His hands found their way to your hair, guiding you but never forcing, as you found a rhythm that had him panting and his hips moving in time with your mouth.

The feeling of him in your mouth, the sound of his moans, the way his muscles tightened with every stroke - it was intoxicating. You could feel his cock swell even more, his body tensing as he approached his peak.

You took him deeper, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth, and watched as the pleasure played out across his features. When he finally came, it was with a roar that echoed through the quiet room, his hot release filling your mouth as your eyes remained locked on his.

You swallowed, licking your lips clean, and took a moment to bask in the power you held over him. With a gentle yet firm tug, Tyler pulls you onto his lap, your naked body straddling his. His cock, still hard and pulsing, presses against your stomach, leaving a trail of wetness from your juices. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the beat of his heart a rhythmic drum that matches the pulse between your legs.

His hands glide over your hips, guiding you closer to his erection, and you can't help but rock against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your core. He kisses you again, his mouth demanding and possessive, as if he's trying to claim every part of you.

His grip tightens, and with a soft moan, you lift yourself slightly, aligning his cock with your wet entrance. The anticipation is almost unbearable as you hover there, feeling the warmth of him against your slickness. And then, with a gasp, you lower yourself onto him, feeling him fill you up, stretching you in the most delicious way.

Your bodies move in unison, the sound of skin slapping against skin mingling with your desperate moans and his guttural groans. Each thrust is like a declaration of a newfound love, a silent promise that you're both ready to explore this uncharted territory of desire.

The world outside your embrace fades away as you become lost in the rhythm of your lovemaking, the only thing that matters is the connection between you. You lean back, resting your hands on his broad shoulders, head thrown back in pleasure, his eyes hooded with lust as he moves inside you.

The headboard of your bed thumps against the wall in a steady rhythm that matches the pounding of your hearts. This moment, this perfect union of bodies and souls, is a testament to the unspoken truth that you've both been dancing around for so long.

As Tyler fucks you with an unbridled passion that resonates through every fiber of your being, he buries his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your skin. His teeth graze your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you tightly against him.

Each thrust is punctuated by a muffled groan against your flesh, his breath hot and ragged in your ear. His hips drive into you with a fierce intensity that matches the pounding of your hearts. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, the roughness of his stubble against your sensitive skin, the possessive grip of his hands - it all combines into a symphony of sensation that threatens to overwhelm you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as you hold on tightly, riding the wave of pleasure that builds with each stroke. The intimacy of this moment, the raw, unfiltered need, solidifies the unspoken bond that has been forged between you. His teeth graze the skin of your neck, and you feel a soft pinch as he marks you, leaving his brand of desire in a place that no one else will ever see.

Your breath hitches, and you whisper his name again, a plea for more, a declaration of your own need. The world outside the cocoon of your entwined limbs fades away, leaving only the two of you, bound together by this carnally beautiful dance of love and lust that has forever changed the landscape of your friendship.

As Tyler's hips piston upwards, driving himself deep inside you, you feel the coil of pleasure in your core tighten to the point of snapping. His eyes, filled with a fierce love and lust, bore into yours as you both reach the peak of your climax together. Your body convulses around him, muscles clenching as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

His own orgasm hits like a storm, his cock pulsing with every beat of his heart, filling you with his warmth as he groans out your name. The room seems to spin around you as you cling to each other, the intensity of your shared release echoing through the night.

You collapse against his chest, both of you gasping for air, your hearts racing in perfect sync. As the tremors subside, he kisses you softly, his breath mingling with yours as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

The aftermath of your passion leaves you both drenched in sweat and satisfaction, the stickiness of your melded bodies a testament to the depth of your connection. The silence that follows is no longer filled with tension but with the quiet understanding that you've crossed a threshold, leaving behind the confines of friendship and stepping into the uncharted territory of love.

Your legs, still wrapped around him, don't want to let go, and he makes no move to pull out, savoring the feeling of you clinging to him. The world outside seems to hold its breath, waiting for the next move in this unscripted play of desire that has unfolded between you.

But for now, you're content to stay right here, tangled in the sheets and in each other, forever changed by the raw, unbridled passion that has claimed you both.

He nuzzles his head against your neck, kissing and worshiping the soft, sensitive skin with a renewed vigor. He whispers between kisses, "God, I can't get enough of you..."

[angelbwrry]

cherry hill. eren j. 11k.

cw 𐙚 nsfw link, plug! eren, long plot,cannabis consumption, lots of angst, little bit of domestic violence by readers bf, ony, armin and connie cameo, car sex, toxic-ish reader, black reader, spanking, toe-sucking, oral, size difference, dirty talk, cream-pie, creaming, multiple orgasms, cervix kissing, pet names, thumb in ass, fluff at the end, lowercase intended! or in which you and your best friend do the dirty. . . minors shoo!

a/n𐙚 just wanna say, i love eren and i worked really hard on this so if you enjoy please like, comment or reblog:)

“i know you wanna tell me, so just say it.”

you soak in his words, eyes staring at the pink hello kitty rolling tray, fingers slowing as they work on the blunt-in-progress. you were more of a let someone else roll girl, but you were trying to get better. the tray, with its playful design, contrasts sharply with the intensity of the moment. each curve and line of the hello kitty image seems to mock your fumbling fingers, but you persist. the rolling paper crinkles slightly under your touch, the scent of fresh herbs filling the air.

you can feel his gaze on you, a mixture of amusement and patience, as you try to perfect the roll. the blunt takes shape slowly, each twist and tuck a testament to your determination. envy bubbles up inside you as you think about how his always come out so flawlessly—stuffed to perfection, smooth, and not a single piece of weed dropped. you blame it on his big ass hands; there's so much you can do with big hands. his fingers, adept and confident, always seem to mold the tobacco leaves with an ease that leaves you in awe.

“so?”

oh yeah, back to his question. you shift in your seat, eyes now on your manicured feet propped against the dashboard of the camaro. the soft hum of the car's engine fills the silence, and you can feel the tension building. you don’t know if you should say anything; you know how eren gets. he’s a hothead, you’ve known that ever since you first laid eyes on him in kindergarten. ha, who knew a six-year-old had the strength to break a grown man’s nose? the memory brings a small, amused smile to your lips, but it quickly fades as you consider how to respond.

“"ʚ♡ɞ.” annoyance laces his voice,he hates when you get cagey like this.

“it’s nothing.” he knows you’re lying, the way you’re focusing immensely on your toes. the dim light from the dashboard illuminates your face as you stare at your feet, making it clear you’re avoiding eye contact. he admits they’re pretty, but not that damn interesting. he already knows that you and your boyfriend got into a nasty fight, maybe the nastiest yet. but, he wants to hear it from your mouth. he eyes the bruise on your arm, his jaw clenches. the sight of it makes his blood boil, he’d already pistol whipped that hoe once; he doesn’t mind doing it again. the tension in the car is palpable, every second stretching out as he waits for you to open up.

you can feel his gaze now burning into you, the weight of his concern pressing down on you. the silence in the car is deafening, broken only by the occasional hum of the engine. you know he’s waiting for you to say something, anything, but the words are caught in your throat. you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “it’s just... things got out of hand,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

he doesn’t say anything, but you can see the anger simmering beneath the surface. his grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white. “out of hand?” he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. “that doesn’t explain the bruise on your arm.” you flinch at his words, the reminder of the fight sending a fresh wave of pain through you. you know he’s right, but you don’t want to admit it. you don’t want to admit that your boyfriend hurt you, that you let it happen.

the car feels like a pressure cooker, the tension building with each passing second. you can see the muscles in his jaw working, the effort it’s taking him to stay calm. “look,” he says finally, his voice tight with barely controlled rage. “you don’t have to protect him. if he’s hurting you, you need to tell me.” you can hear the desperation in his voice, the need to protect you. it’s almost enough to make you break down, to spill everything. but you hold back, the fear of what might happen if you do keeping you silent.

"well, i broke up with him, so, it’s . . . nothing.” you turn your attention back to the blunt. he hums. “for real this time?” you nod, feeling the weight of the decision settle in. you’re so tired of dealing with that manipulative nigga. every interaction with him felt like walking on eggshells, constantly trying to avoid triggering another argument. you don’t even know how the latest argument started, something about eren. it was always something about eren. he hated him, convinced that men and women couldn't just be friends. every time you mentioned eren, his face would darken with suspicion. he always accused you of being too close to eren, implying you were more than friends.

you’d thought about doing something just to spite him, to prove a point, but deep down, you knew you could never go through with it. the thought of jeopardizing your friendship with eren was unbearable. eren had been there for you through thick and thin, a constant source of support and understanding. losing him as a friend was a risk you weren't willing to take. the bond you shared with eren was one of the few stable things in your life, and you valued it more than anything.

as you sit there, you feel a mix of relief and sadness. relief that you finally took a step towards freeing yourself from a toxic relationship, but sadness for the time and energy wasted. you take a deep breath and exhale slowly, trying to let go of the lingering tension. maybe now, you can start to heal and focus on the relationships that truly matter to you.

“you got a light?” you ask, finishing up. eren sucks his teeth. “girl, y’know i always got a lighter.” he leans over, reaching past your legs and popping open the glove compartment. your skin tingles as he brushes you, and you pull your legs down, tucking them underneath you. a smile tugs at your lips when you see the hello kitty lighter. it’s comical seeing his tough, drug-dealing self carrying around such a girly lighter. he thinks it’s cute. it reminds him of you. he also always makes sure to put your weed in a hello kitty package, loving the way your eyes always lit up when he handed it to you.

“wanna do the honors?” you pass the misshapen mess to him. “you’re dead wrong—y’know what, never mind. i’d love to.” he holds the lighter in his hand, and your eyes glisten as you watch the end burn orange as he inhales. almost immediately, you’re reaching for it, and he chuckles at your neediness. it’d been a while since you last smoked, admittedly, you were trying to stop. but, life was life-ing and you needed it. joyfully, you wrap your glossy lips around the blunt, inhaling the white tendrils of burning toxins. the foggy smoke splashes onto your teeth and slips into your dark eyes. the sweet substance fills your lungs, and you exhale your relief in a cloud of grey smoke. it swirls upwards like a mist, devouring everything in its delicately deadly path before curling into nothingness.

eren watches you with a mix of amusement and something else, something softer. “you always look so peaceful when you smoke,” he says, his voice low and thoughtful. you glance at him, your eyes slightly glazed but filled with gratitude. “it’s my escape,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “sometimes, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

he nods, understanding. “i get it. everyone needs an escape.” he takes another drag, the end of the blunt glowing brightly in the dim light of the car. you both sit in comfortable silence, sharing the moment, the smoke, and the unspoken bond that ties you together. in this small, hazy world, everything feels right, if only for a little while.

"i hate when you wear lipgloss, makes the blunt sticky as hell," eren states as he grabs the blunt from you. "a girl's gotta look pretty when meeting her plug," you joke, pearly whites gleaming. and pretty you are. he would never admit it, but he admired the fuck out of you—the way your brown skin always seemed to shimmer, the way you always smelled so damn good, even the way you laughed—it was ugly as hell but he loved it.

"you don’t need makeup to look pretty," he says, ignoring the way his dick twitches in his pants as your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. "i know, but i feel better when i do it." you run your hands through the silky strands; his hair is so damn shiny. you wonder what his secret is. you can’t help but run the dead ends between your fingers, this long, beautiful ass hair and he refuses to keep up with it. he mostly keeps his hair in a bun, but for you, he wears it down because he knows you like playing in it. he doesn’t mind; it actually feels good.

he’s gone home with cornrows more times than he can count, and he always thought they looked ridiculous on his white ass, no matter how much you assured him they looked good. "you need a trim; i got you tomorrow after class." he only nods and puffs the blunt. he looks so beautiful—inked arm resting on his lap, sharp jaw clenched as he inhales. you know it’s weird to look at him this way, but you can’t help it. he’s eye candy; it’s okay to look . . . right?

the faint scent of mango from his air freshener fills your nose, your favorite. you take yet another drag from the joint, the tip glowing bright orange once again, then passing it to eren. “lord," eren starts, taking a hit and exhaling slowly, "remember that time you greened out at my place?"

a smile pulls at your lips, how could you forget? your stomach hurt for like three days straight, you had to call out of work and class. "oh god, don't remind me! that was so embarrassing."

"nah, it was hilarious," he replies, boyish grin on his face. "you were convinced the couch was swallowing you whole. you kept yelling, 'help, it's got me!'"

you couldn’t help but giggle, pushing at his shoulder, his stocky build didn’t move but it was worth a shot. "stop it! i can't believe i did that."

"and then," he continued, chuckling, "you tried to call 911, but you forgot how to use your phone. you were like, 'why isn't it working?' and i had to take it away before you actually called them."

you wiped tears from your eyes, still giggling. shit, you were gonna mess your makeup up. damn eren, and his talent to always make you laugh. ”stoppp,” you whine, crossing your arms over you chest and jutting your lip out.

he smiles, enjoying the sight of you so carefree. "okay, okay, i'll quit. but seriously, that was one for the books. i've never seen anyone freak out over a couch before."

you shook your head, still smiling. "you're ridiculous," you picked at your chipped acrylic nail, "but that's why i love hanging out with you. you always know how to make me laugh." eren’s smile widens, taking another hit before passing the joint back to you. "well, someone has to keep things interesting," he says. "and besides, what's life without a little laughter?"

“mhm,” is all you get out before your glossy lips wrap back around the blunt. you could feel those intrusive green eyes on you, he couldn’t help but admire your pretty ass. perfect makeup dewy and light with faux freckles sprinkled across your nose, wispy lashes framing your upturned eyes, those juicy lips pulled into a half-smile. you’d recently cut your hair into a bob, and he loved it so much. he wanted to run his fingers through your silk press but remembered the last time he’d done that, you’d punched him in the face. "never touch a black girl's hair," is what you’d said.

you’re little as hell compared to him, but you pack a serious punch. he swore his eye randomly twitched for two weeks after that. his eyes trailed down. you were still in your gym clothes, him having pulled up right after you got home. it was hard to ignore the way his heart had skipped when he saw you wearing that cherry red matching set, the shirt clinging to you perfectly, showcasing every curve. your ass jiggled as you ran to his car in those tight-ass pants, every hip dip, every dent in your round ass visible. you’re so damn pretty, he could stare at you all day.

the way your body moved, the way you carried yourself with confidence and grace, it was mesmerizing. he watched as you took another drag, your lips wrapping around the blunt with a casual elegance that drove him wild. your eyes met his for a brief moment, and he felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him.

"stare any longer and i’ll charge you, jaeger." he snorts at this but pulls his gaze away. he clicks the power button on his phone and sees it’s approaching midnight. you’d been with him for half an hour, yet it had only seemed like a few minutes. you had that effect—time seemed to fly by when he was with you, and he hated it. eren knew you had classes in the morning and would probably be heading back to the apartment you shared with sasha soon. she hated when the two of you smoked inside, so naturally, you’d resorted to hotboxing in eren’s modded-out camaro.

"shut up," he mumbles, cracking a window to let some smoke out. you watch as it collides with the night air and dissipates. "fuck, i’m so tired. today was leg day—squats and the stair master killed the fuck outta my me." you puff, hands massaging your sore thighs. he wishes those were his hands. "since when are you such a gym rat?" eren looks amused, sticking the tip of the fat blunt out of the window and ashing it. "m’ don’t know. trying to stay consistent. not everyone can be built like a greek statue naturally," he laughs as you glare at him.

"what can i say? i just hit the gene jackpot." he’s got that right—he’s so damn pretty. you’re actually jealous of the way his lashes are naturally long and kiss his rosy cheeks. this time, it’s you who’s staring. you’d been refraining all night, but the way he’s rocking that black T and black denim jeans with brown nike dunks definitely made you look twice. the ink beautifully sits on his skin, his scent overwhelming.

"well, catch me in a couple of months—my body will be so t." a smile plays on your lips. "oh it's not t now?" he rests back in his seat. pulling down the visor, you start checking your makeup, choosing to ignore his comment. bloodshot brown eyes stare back at you, and you’re unsure if it’s from tiredness or the weed, maybe even both. you didn’t even realize how sleepy you were until now, the warmth of a hot shower beckoning you.

"mmm, i’m so sleepy. should probably get inside." a soft yawn escapes your lips as you stretch your limbs, feeling the tension ease away. "i know, you need your beauty rest. can i have a hug before you go?" eren pokes his lip out, and you giggle, finding it amusing that this six-foot-four man is pouting like a little girl. he knows it’s hard for you to say no to him. "fine," you mutter, rolling your eyes playfully.

you grab your hello kitty tray, the cute design always bringing a smile to your face, and slip your crocs back on, their familiar comfort grounding you. smoke billows into the night air as you push open the door, the humid air a stark contrast to the coolness inside the car. you walk around the car to where eren is already waiting for you, his tall frame silhouetted against the dim streetlights.

his embrace is warm and comforting, enveloping you in a sense of security. he smells so good, a mix of cologne and something uniquely him, and he notices that you do too, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he holds you close. you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest.

after a few moments, you attempt pull away. "i really should get inside," you say, your brown eyes meeting his lighter ones. he nods, understanding but not letting go just yet. "noo, jus’ one more minute," he murmurs, pulling you back into his arms. you giggle and close your eyes, savoring the warmth and comfort of his hug. you don’t know what’s up with his clingy behavior lately, but you don’t mind. it feels nice to be appreciated for once in your sad life.

he finds it hard to restrain himself as your ass sways with each step you take away from him. god, you’re so thick that it drives him absolutely crazy. he can’t help but imagine sitting between those luscious legs as you trim his hair tomorrow, the thought sending shivers down his spine. he watches intently, waiting until you’re all the way inside the house before he finally hops back into the cool car. what is he gonna do about you?

eren is pissed at you, more pissed than he’d probably ever been with you. you told him you were done with jean, yet here you are on his snapchat story. he couldn’t see your face, but he knows it’s you from your hair. it stung knowing you’d lied straight to his face last night. he clenched his fist so hard he drew blood. did you take him as a joke? were you that fucking dumb to let yourself be manipulated into jean's arms again? the thought made his blood boil. in a fit of rage, he pushed connie’s arm, which was holding the phone showcasing the snapchat story, sending the device flying.

eren’s mind raced with a mix of anger and betrayal, unable to comprehend how you could do this to him. he felt a storm of emotions brewing inside him, each one more intense than the last. he had trusted you, believed in you, and now, seeing you with jean again, felt like a dagger to his heart. his stormy green eyes, usually so full of determination, were now clouded with hurt and fury. his warm olive skin seemed to flush darker as his anger flared, veins pulsing visibly against his clenched fists.

he remembered the conversation from last night vividly. you had looked him in the eye, your voice steady, promising that you were done with jean. he had believed you, letting a small glimmer of hope spark in his chest. but now, that hope was crushed, replaced by a seething rage. he couldn't understand why you would lie to him, why you would go back to jean after everything.

eren’s thoughts spiraled further into darkness. did you think he was a fool? did you think he wouldn’t find out? he felt the sting of betrayal deep in his gut, twisting like a knife. his mind replayed the moment he saw the story, the recognition of your hair, the undeniable proof of your deceit. every second felt like an eternity as he stood there, grappling with the overwhelming emotions.

he wanted to confront you, to demand answers, but he also knew that in his current state, he might say something he’d regret. the pain and anger were too raw, too consuming. he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the image of you with jean kept flashing in his mind, fueling his rage. the room around him seemed to blur as his focus narrowed on the betrayal he felt.

eren knew he needed to calm down, to think rationally, but it was nearly impossible with the torrent of emotions raging inside him. he couldn’t shake the feeling of being made a fool, of being played. he had always prided himself on his strength, his ability to see through lies, but now he felt vulnerable, exposed. the trust he had placed in you felt like a weight dragging him down, suffocating him.

he looked at connie, who was now staring at him with wide eyes, clearly taken aback by eren’s sudden outburst. but eren couldn’t bring himself to care. all he could think about was you, and the betrayal he felt so deeply. he needed to confront you, to get to the bottom of this, but he also knew that he needed to calm down first. taking another deep breath, he tried to steady his racing heart, but the anger and hurt were still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

“eren, you need to calm the fuck down.” connie’s tone was serious, a stark contrast to his usually laid-back demeanor. eren, normally so composed, was pacing the room like a caged animal, his face a mask of frustration and pain. connie could see the turmoil in his friend’s eyes, the way he was lashing out because he was hurt. he knew eren loved you, even if eren himself refused to admit it.

connie didn’t understand why eren kept his feelings bottled up. it was stupid, like some high school drama. he watched as eren grabbed the things you’d left behind and tossed them into the trashcan with more force than necessary. connie, was speaking but all eren could hear was his thundering heartbeat.

his mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and he knew he had to confront you, but he needed to do it without losing control. he stormed out of the room, leaving connie behind. he made his way to your place, each step fueled by the anger and hurt he felt.

when eren arrived, he didn't bother knocking. he shoved the door open with a force that echoed through the room, and there you were, sitting on the couch, looking up in surprise. the sight of you, so calm and unaware of the storm brewing inside him, only fueled his anger further.

"eren, what's wrong?" you asked, concern etched on your face as you stood up, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and confusion.

he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his voice shook with emotion. "why did you lie to me?" he demanded, his eyes burning with hurt. "you said you were done with jean, but there you were, on his story.

your eyes widened in shock, and you quickly took a step forward, your heart pounding. "eren, it's not what you think," you began, but he cut you off, his voice rising with a mix of rage and desperation.

"then what is it?" he snapped, his words dripping with sarcasm and pain. "because it sure looks like you went back to him."

you took a step closer, reaching out to him, but he stepped back, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and pain. "eren, please, listen to me. i didn't go back to jean. i was just talking to him, trying to clear things up." you stressed, it hurt you that eren was hurting. but, you had no one to blame but yourself.

"clear things up?" eren repeated, his tone bitter and disbelieving. he scoffed and his tongue against his cheek, god, he’d never hated anyone like he hated you right now. "and you couldn't tell me that? you couldn't trust me enough to let me know?"

"eren, i didn't want to upset you," you said softly, tears welling up in your eyes. "i thought i could handle it on my own."

his face contorted with rage and heartbreak. "you always think you can handle everything on your own," he shouted, his voice breaking with the weight of his emotions. "but you never think about how it affects me! you never think about how much it hurts me to see you with him!"

"eren, i—" you started, but he cut you off again, his voice filled with raw pain.

"i love you, damn it!" he confessed angrily, the words tearing through the air like a storm. "and you just keep running back to the men who hurt you, instead of the ones who want the best for you. you're a stupid, selfish bitch!" his words cut through you like a knife, and you could feel your heart shattering.

you tried to reach out to him, to touch him, but he slapped your hand away, his eyes filled with tears. "don't touch me," he said, his voice cracking. "you're done with me. we're done."

you could only watch through tear-filled eyes as eren turned and walked out of your life, the sound of the door slamming behind him echoing like a final, devastating blow.

the days that followed were a blur of agony and tears. you cried until you couldn't cry anymore, the pain of losing eren too much to bear. he didn't come over, didn't show up when all of your shared friends hung out. he'd blocked your number, cutting off all contact. the hurt was overwhelming, and you felt like a part of you had been ripped away, leaving a gaping hole that nothing could fill.

the days turned into weeks, and the pain lingered like a dark cloud over your life. you tried to distract yourself with work, with class, with anything that could take your mind off eren, but nothing worked. every little thing reminded you of him—the scent of his cologne that still lingered on your clothes, the way he used sit patiently while you practiced braiding on him.

you found solace in small things, like the comfort of your hello kitty tray that eren had given you as a gift. it brought back memories of happier times, when you both would sit together, sharing meals and laughter. the scent of cigar smoke, which you once found annoying, now brought a strange sense of comfort, reminding you of the nights you spent together, talking about everything and nothing.

you even found yourself wearing your crocs more often, a gift from eren that you used to tease him about. now, they were a reminder of his thoughtfulness, of how he always wanted you to be comfortable.

but the nights were the hardest. lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, you couldn't escape the memories. the way eren used to hold you close, his arms wrapped around you, providing a sense of security and warmth that you now desperately missed. you longed for his touch, for the reassurance that everything would be okay. but he was gone, and you were left to navigate the darkness on your own.

sasha couldn't stand seeing you in such a slump. with a gentle touch, she stroked your hair, brushing back the tears that had been silently streaming down your cheeks. "if eren's shutting you out like this, maybe it's for the best," she said softly, her voice a mix of concern and tenderness. she shifted slightly, her legs dangling off the edge of the bed, creating a comforting presence beside you. "we're all going to see a drive-in movie tonight. you should come. i think it would be good for you," she added, her eyes filled with a genuine hope that you would find some solace in the company of friends.

her words lingered in the air, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. maybe sasha was right. it hurt to not have eren here, the absence gnawing at your heart, but you couldn't keep living in this shadow of sadness. the thought of being surrounded by friends, the comfort of the open night sky, and the distraction of a good movie seemed like a small step towards healing. sasha's presence was reassuring, a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.

you took a deep, shaky breath, feeling the weight of your sorrow start to lift, if only just a little. the idea of a night out, filled with laughter and companionship, seemed like a lifeline. sasha's hand remained on your shoulder, a silent promise that you weren't alone in this. with a tentative smile, you nodded, deciding to take that first step towards reclaiming your happiness.

“yay, that’s the spirit! i’ll tell everyone you’re coming. they’ve missed you,” sasha squealed excitedly. “we’re leaving in like an hour, i gotta go get ready!” she slipped out of your room and shut the door behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

tossing the covers from your body, you slid your feet into your teddy bear slippers and made your way to your vanity. the light was bright and harsh on your eyes, and you had to blink a couple of times to adjust. how you felt was the epitome of your outside appearance: puffy eyes, dry skin, chapped lips. you looked terrible, and you couldn’t believe you’d let yourself go so much in the span of a couple of weeks. “alexa, play ‘more than a woman’ by bee gees,” you said, beginning to get to work.

pushing your hair back with a fluffy pink bath headband, you slowly went through your makeup routine, finding the familiarity of it all comforting. it’d been about thirty minutes, and you were finishing up, just needing to draw your freckles on and do your lip combo. you were surprised your makeup had come out so well, seeing as you hadn’t done it in a while. but as you stared at the clean, smooth base in the white wooden vanity mirror, you were pleasantly surprised.

you were currently lining your plump lips with brown, smudging the liner a bit with your ring finger for an ombré effect. you just had to straighten your hair and find something to wear, then you’d finally be done. you couldn’t help but feel a wave of anxiousness wash over you. what if eren was there? you didn’t think you could be in his presence without breaking down. you’d heard he’d gotten a girlfriend—how could you not? sasha was always so damn loud, and the walls in this place were thin as hell. you weren’t jealous, but the thought of seeing him with someone else made your stomach churn.

you took a deep breath and reminded yourself that tonight was about having fun and reconnecting with friends.

you’d finished with your hair, meticulously pressing each strand until it fell just right. satisfied with your reflection, you turned your attention to your closet, pushing aside hangers and rifling through a sea of fabrics. after a few moments of contemplation, you settled on a red sleeveless cropped shirt, the bold "miller genuine draft" logo emblazoned in white letters across the front. it was eye-catching and edgy, exactly the vibe you were going for. you paired it with low-waisted denim jean shorts that hugged your curves and accentuated your figure perfectly. to complete the look, you slipped into a pair of black knee-high platform boots that added a few inches to your height and a lot of attitude to your ensemble. it was simple but still stylish. look good, feel good, right?

“sasha! you ready?” you called out, grabbing your bottle of victoria’s secret ‘bombshell’ perfume and giving yourself a generous spritz. the familiar scent enveloped you, adding a final touch of confidence.

“yep—you look hot,” sasha replied as she entered the room. her brown hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, showcasing her delicate features. she wore a cropped black shirt that highlighted her toned midriff, paired with crisp blue skinny jeans that fit her like a second skin. thigh-high boots clung to her legs, adding a touch of drama to her outfit.

“thanks, sash, you look hot too. connie will be drooling,” you teased, noticing the faint blush that spread across her cheeks as you winked at her. she thought you didn’t know about her and connie hooking up, but once again the walls in this place were like paper, and secrets didn’t stay hidden for long.

“you ready?” you asked, grabbing your phone and bag, feeling a rush of excitement for the night ahead.

“sure am,” sasha said with a grin, hooking her arm through yours. together, you made your way out, ready to take on whatever the night had in store. the air was electric with anticipation, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of exhilaration as you stepped into the night, your friend by your side.

the air is warm, and there's a gentle breeze that makes the evening feel perfect. the sun is beginning to set, casting a golden hue across the horizon, and the sky is painted with shades of orange, pink, and purple. as the light fades, the large screen at the drive-in movie theater becomes more prominent, ready to transport its audience into the eerie world of the classic horror movie, "it."

cars are lined up in neat rows, their occupants settling in with blankets and pillows, creating cozy nests in the backs of their vehicles. some have even brought lawn chairs, spreading them out under the open sky. the chatter of excited moviegoers fills the air, a mix of laughter and anticipation as everyone gets ready for the show.

mosquitoes are out in full force, buzzing around annoyingly. thankfully, you remembered to bring bug spray, and you take a moment to apply it liberally, ensuring you can enjoy the night without constant swatting. the faint smell of the spray mingles with the more pleasant aromas wafting through the air.

the scent of freshly popped popcorn is unmistakable, its buttery goodness making your mouth water. nearby, the sweet, sticky aroma of candy apples tempts your senses, reminding you of childhood fairs and carnivals. funnel cakes, with their crispy edges and dusting of powdered sugar, add to the olfactory delight, and you can almost taste the sweetness in the air. various other delicious sweet snacks are also available, from cotton candy to caramel corn, each scent blending into a symphony of indulgence.

"can you believe this shitty ass popcorn was twenty dollars? could’ve brought my own shit." ony sucks his teeth as he plops down in the back of armin’s ford truck. armin laughs, shrugging his shoulder at his friend. "should’ve gotten funnel cake, you can never go wrong with funnel cake," he says, mouth full of the delicious sweet treat. ony puffs, peering over at the familiar blue honda, a grin spreading across his face. "i know that ain’t, ʚ♡ɞ!" he shouts excitedly.

he hasn’t seen you in weeks. shit, the only person that had is sasha and even she wouldn’t give much intel on you. you can feel the stares of your friends as you get out, feeling terrible for just disappearing without an explanation but you’d needed time to yourself. you were sure they were caught in the loop of all that had happened between you and eren.

"hi guys," you smile, waving. immediately armin and ony are encasing you in a tight hug, sasha joining in. you giggle, enjoying the moment. "we missed you! how dare you leave me alone with these two idiots," armin jokes. they finally pull away, ony finding his place back in the truck and stealing some of armin’s funnel cake. "m’sorry, just been going through some things." armin nods, he knows.

"y’know i'm always here for you, right?" he says softly. you nod, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt as your anxiety creeps in.

"okay good," armin gives your shoulder a squeeze before he finds his way back to his truck.

"where’s connie?" you peer over at sasha, she looks worried as her fingers tap furiously on the screen. "um, he should be here any second i-" she’s cut off as the sound of a familiar engine rumbles through the air.

you freeze. it’s him. he’s here. your heart thunders in your chest, each beat echoing louder than the last. a wave of nausea hits you so hard you almost want to throw up. everyone is looking at you, or at least it feels that way, and you can feel the walls closing in. the world seems to narrow, and you have to grip the roof of your car to steady yourself as your legs threaten to give out beneath you.

"ʚ♡ɞ, just breathe, okay? i didn’t know he was coming until the last second, i promise," sasha says, her voice a soothing balm against the chaos inside you. she rubs your back in slow, comforting circles, her touch grounding you in the present moment. her breath of relief is almost palpable as your breathing begins to slow, the tightness in your chest easing just a bit.

you take a deep breath, letting the cool evening air fill your lungs, and try to focus on the familiar scent of popcorn lingering in the air. it reminds you of simpler times, and the scent is oddly comforting. the noise of the drive-in theater fades into the background as you concentrate on sasha’s voice and the steady rhythm of her hand on your back. gradually, the panic subsides, you can just avoid him . . . right?

“yooo, "ʚ♡ long time no see.” connie cheeses as he steps out of the camaro you’d been in countless times before, yet it all seemed so unfamiliar now. you could feel his eyes on you, but you couldn’t see him as he hid behind that five percent dark tint.

“hi constanceee,” you tease, giggling as his face pulls into a scrunch at the use of his full name. he pulls you into a hug, it’s friendly and warm. “and don’t be throwing out my government, girl,” connie says, pushing your temple with his pointer finger as he pulls away. you laugh, putting your hands up, “whatever you sayyy. you look nice.” you hum, noticing his outfit—a white longed sleeved shirt under a black thrasher shirt, baggy jeans hanging low around his hips topped off with a pair of scuffed-up converse.

if ’stoner skater boy’ was a person, it’d be connie. he smiles at your compliment, “you don’t look too shabby yourself.” he nudges your shoulder. “thanks, connie.” you murmur, swiping a strand of hair behind your ear. “stealing my man?” sasha pops her head into the conversation, you roll your eyes with a smile. “he’s all yours.” you giggle, watching as the cute pair hook arms. this was the most touchy you’d ever seen them; you wondered if they were dating now.

as the sun dips below the horizon, the sky darkens, and the first stars begin to twinkle. the screen flickers to life, and the familiar, haunting music of "it" begins to play. the audience quiets down, the atmosphere shifting from festive to tense as the story unfolds. the glow from the screen casts eerie shadows across the rows of cars, adding to the spooky ambiance.

unfortunately, you were third wheeling. you were in the back seat of your own car, feeling a bit out of place as connie and sasha whispered and giggled in the front. you try to focus on the movie, but your mind keeps drifting back to the way things used to be, before everything got so complicated. eren still hasn’t showed, and you wonder if he’s with his girlfriend. you want to ask connie but your pride doesn’t let you, you sink into your seat as the two start to kiss.

“I’m gonna get a drink.” you curl your lips inwards, unsure if they even heard you over the sound of their lips smacking together. must be nice. you push open the car door and stand to your feet, stretching your sore limbs. the back of your honda was not comfortable in the slightest bit. eren is parked right beside you, and the urge to open his passenger door is strong, but you resist and walk past with your head down. your throat burns as you fight back tears.

suddenly, you’re flat on your ass, grass poking into your thighs. you look up to see eren standing over you, his expression unreadable as he stares down at you. he looks so fucking good, his long hair pulled back into a messy low bun, strands framing his stoic face. he’s wearing a black shirt with a design printed on the front, and it’s hard to ignore the way his inked muscles stretch around the fabric. a pair of khaki loose jeans hang around his hips, paired with chunky converse. he’s wearing a gold bracelet, the one you’d given him. you want to say something, anything, but your mouth is dry and you can hardly think with the way your heart is beating.

he extends a hand to you, and you hesitate for a second before grabbing it. his touch is warm and familiar, and you can’t resist as you pull him into a hug. his arms don’t wrap around you, but you don’t care. the waterworks start up and you’re fully ugly crying as you bury your face into his shirt. the familiar scent of him makes you cry even louder.

“e-eren,” you hiccup, “p-please l-let me talk to you.” you beg, your voice desperate but you don’t care. you need to explain yourself. eren was still pissed at you, no doubt about it. but seeing you so vulnerable, begging for him to talk to you, pulled at his heartstrings. his heart and mind were at battle on what to do. part of him wanted to walk away, get in his car, and drive away. but the other part wanted to embrace you, wipe your tears away, and tell you it’s gonna be okay.

“please don’t cry, we . . . can talk. just stop crying,” he finally murmurs.

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "i didn't mean to hurt you," you whisper, your voice trembling. "i miss you, eren. i miss us. i can't stand the thought of losing you." your words are rushed, desperate, as if saying them faster will make them more true. eren's eyes soften for a moment, and you think you see a flicker of the old eren, the one who would hold you close and tell you everything would be alright.

he finally wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. the warmth of his embrace is overwhelming, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness you've felt without him. you inhale deeply, the scent of his cologne mixed with a faint hint of cigar smoke filling your senses. it's a smell that brings back so many memories, both good and bad. you cling to him, your fingers digging into his back as if you're afraid he'll disappear if you let go. he’s missed this more than he wants to admit, you look so damn pretty. he’s missed the fuck outta your face, your smile. you’re wearing these tight short denim jeans and he wants to grab a handful of your ass and knead it between his fingers.

"i'm sorry," you sob, your voice muffled against his chest. "i know i messed up, but i need you. i can't do this without you." eren's grip tightens, and you feel a glimmer of hope. maybe, just maybe, things can go back to the way they were.

“i-,” eren starts but his words catch in his throat. he takes a deep breath, “we can talk in my car.” he finally says, pulling away from you. he leads you back to his car, opening the door for you. your heart races as you slide into the seat, eren popping open his door and sliding in. it’s quiet for a few moments before eren speaks up. “so explain, why did you go back to jean?” he asks, trying to push down the rage that’s bubbling inside of him.

you sigh, running a hand through your hair, “i didn’t fuck him, i really just went over there to get some things and clear the air.” you try to keep your voice steady as you speak. “he took that picture and posted it to make it seem like we were back together. he fucking knew it’d get to you.” you ramble, tears falling from your eyes. you hate how much of a crybaby you’re being, but you can’t help it. you’re fighting for him, and you’re not gonna let him walk out of your life again.

“i would never intentionally hurt you, eren. i care for you so fucking much! and it eats me alive knowing that i hurt you. but i promise, if you give me a chance, i can—i will treat you how you deserve to be treated. when you told me you loved me, i realized how selfish i had been. it was in my face all along, and i didn’t realize. i’m in love with you, eren, and i think deep down i always have been—” your rant is halted as eren presses his lips against yours. it’s soft and passionate, and you melt in his touch.

eren pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “i’ve been so angry,” he whispers, his voice trembling. “i didn’t know what to believe. seeing that picture... it broke me.” his hands cup your face gently, thumbs brushing away your tears. “but hearing you say all this, i believe you. i want to believe you.” he takes a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. “i love you too, and i want to make this work. but we need to be honest with each other, no more secrets.”

you nod, your heart swelling with hope. “i promise, no more secrets. i’ll be completely honest with you from now on.” you take his hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “we can get through this, eren. together.”

eren smiles softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and determination. “together,” he agrees, his eyes lock onto yours, a silent conversation passing between you. the tension in the air is palpable, thick with unspoken words and simmering emotions. he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours, and your heart races in anticipation.

without a word, he cups your face in his hands, his touch both gentle and possessive. the world around you fades into a blur as his lips capturing yours in another kiss that is both intense and hungry. it's as if he's pouring all his emotions into this one moment, and you respond with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair.

the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more desperate. his tongue teases the seam of your lips, and you part them willingly, inviting him in. the taste of him is intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the sensation, every nerve ending alight with desire.

"i-i need you," you whimper against his lips, feeling your core throb from the sloppy kiss you two shared seconds ago. a smile pulls on eren’s lips, his thumb trailing against your soft, two-toned, plump lips. your eyes are full of desire and lust, and he fucking loves it. “want me to fuck that pretty pussy?” his voice is deep and raspy. you nod, clenching your legs together, feeling the heat in between them stir at his filthy words.

"get in the back, pretty girl," he taps your thigh, and you quickly find yourself stepping over the center console as you climb into the back seat. the leather seats are cool against your skin, contrasting the warmth radiating from your body. eren follows close behind you, his presence filling the small space as he adjusts the seats to give you both optimal room. the sound of the seats clicking into place is drowned out by the pounding of your heart.

his fingertips dig into your thighs, leaving a trail of tingling sensations that make you gasp. your back is pressed against the door, the cool metal seeping through your clothes as you watch him intently. he pulls off your boots, large fingers fumbling with the buttons of your shorts now, each movement deliberate and teasing. you lift your hips instinctively, allowing him to slip them off more easily, your legs spreading wide in anticipation.

"look at this, soaking through your panties already?" he laughs, a deep, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. his thumb traces the wet stain adorning your underwear, the fabric clinging to your arousal. a shaky breath escapes your mouth as his fingers brush against your clothed clit, the sensation both electrifying and maddening. he has you in his hand, he knows it.

he presses wet kisses along your thick thighs as he pulls your underwear down your soft brown legs, you smell so damn good it’s got him twitching eagerly in his pants. his kisses trail down your legs, holding your calf gently, your breath hitches as he places pecks all the way down to the gold bracelet clasped around your ankle. “e-eren,” you whine, pussy throbbing.

with each kiss, his lips leave a lingering warmth on your skin, sending shivers up your spine. he takes his time, savoring every inch of your body as if committing it to memory. the way he moves is deliberate, almost worshipful, making you feel like the most precious thing in the world. his hands are firm yet gentle, guiding your further legs apart with a reverence that makes your heart race.

as he reaches your toes, he pauses, his eyes darkening with desire. his tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive skin before he takes your toe into his mouth, sucking gently. the sensation is electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. his eyes never leave yours, the intensity of his gaze making you feel exposed and vulnerable, yet completely safe in his care. the air is thick with the scent of your arousal, stickiness seeping onto his leather seats.

“tell me what you want, ʚ♡ɞ,” his hands massaging your feet, he sure knows how to make a girl feel special.

“eat my pussy, please.” you don’t even recognize your voice as you whisper the words. you’re hot with desire, eren's lips dart out to lick his lips before he leans down, inked hands pressing into your inner thighs as he holds you in place. “with pleasure,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with lust.

your head smacks against the window as his tongue moves lazily over your sopping folds. his mouth feels like heaven on your sex, each stroke deliberate and slow, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “so fucking good,” he whines into your wetness, the taste driving his senses into overdrive. you’re the perfect combination of salty and sweet, and he finds himself pressing his face further into you, desperate for more.

his tongue flicks and swirls, exploring every inch of you with a fervor that makes your toes curl. his inked hands grip your thighs tighter, holding you open as he devours you. the sensation is overwhelming, your body arching off the seat as you lose yourself in the pleasure he's giving you. “oh my god,” you whine, your voice barely more than a breathy moan as his tongue ravages you.

each movement of his mouth feels like pure ecstasy, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to bring you to the edge. he alternates between long, languid licks and quick, teasing flicks, keeping you on the brink of release. the sounds of his mouth on your wetness fill the car, mingling with your breathless moans and the soft creak of the leather seats.

eren's eyes flick up to meet yours, the intensity in his gaze making your heart race. he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters, his sole focus on bringing you pleasure. his tongue delves deeper, finding that perfect spot that makes you see stars. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your body trembles with the force of your impending orgasm.

“let’s see how many fingers you can take angel,” eren's eyes glint mischievously as he slides a single digit inside of you. the feeling is both foreign and electrifying, causing your breath to hitch. you grip the headrest, your knuckles turning white as he follows it up with a second finger. the stretch is intense, but you bite your lip, determined to endure. when he adds a third, your body tenses, and you’re sure you’ll split as he pushes another in.

“h-hurts,” you whine through clenched teeth, your nails digging further into the headrest, leaving crescent-shaped imprints. eren pauses, his expression softening as he presses a tender kiss against your thigh. “it’s okay, just relax around ’em princess,” he coos, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. “m’ trying,” you want to sob, but take a deep breath, trying to focus on the warmth of his lips on your skin rather than the discomfort.

eren continues to kiss your thighs, his mouth trailing gentle, reassuring kisses that help you relax your walls around his fingers. the sensation of his lips, combined with the rough yet careful movement of his hand, begins to ease the tension in your body. “o-okay, you can move,” you gulp thickly, your eyes shutting as you brace yourself.

“good girl,” he begins to push his beefy digits into your greedy pussy, the stretch becoming more bearable as your body adjusts. each movement is deliberate and slow, allowing you time to acclimate. “taking my fingers so well, so proud of you kitten.” he murmurs.

the mix of pleasure and pain sends waves of pain conflicting sensations through your body, but eren's gentle kisses and soothing words keep you grounded. you focus on the warmth of his touch, the reassuring pressure of his fingers, and the way he makes you feel safe and cherished even in moments of vulnerability.

“y-your fingers a-are s-so long!” you drool, hands finding themselves back in eren’s hair.

“you wanna cum on em’?” eren smiles, eyes gazing at you as you fall apart underneath him. you’ve pulled your shirt up and his cock twitches as you pinch and squeeze your hardened nipples between your fingers.

“y-yes! s-so close!” your sweet voice is a symphony of desperation and desire, each word trembling with the intensity of the moment. eren's eyes darken with determination, the sound of your plea igniting a fire within him. he doesn't hesitate, his mouth finding its way back to your sensitive clit with a hunger that matches your own.

the car's backseat is cramped, the leather seats sticking to your skin, adding to the rawness of the moment. outside, the movie plays, but inside the car, it feels like time has stopped. the scent of weed lingers in the air, mixing with the fragrance of your perfume, creating an intoxicating blend that heightens your senses.

“oh god, eren!” you gasp, your back arching off the seat as his tongue flicks over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

the sensation is electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. you grip the edge of the seat, your fingertips aching as you fight to hold on to the last shreds of your control. he’s so deep inside of you you can feel his fingers kissing your cervix, you wanna run but eren's eyes that are peering up at you as you come undone are saying don’t even try.

his hands slide up your thighs, his touch firm yet gentle, grounding you as his mouth works its magic. “i can feel you trembling, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a low, seductive growl that sends shivers down your spine. his large hand repeatedly cracks against your thigh as he spanks you, pushing you further over the edge.“let go for me. i want to feel you come undone.”

his words are your undoing. you cry out, your body tensing as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak. “eren, i-i can’t—” you stammer, your voice breaking as the orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. your vision goes blank for a second, “m’ cumming! c-cumming!” you hiccup.

he doesn’t let up, his mouth continuing its relentless assault on your clit, prolonging your pleasure until you’re a quivering mess beneath him. “that’s it, just like that,” he whispers, his voice filled with pride and satisfaction. “you’re so beautiful when you come for me.”

as the waves of pleasure finally begin to subside, you slump against the door, your chest heaving with the effort to catch your breath. eren crawls up beside you, his eyes softening as he takes in your flushed, blissed-out expression. “are you okay?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

you nod, a lazy smile spreading across your lips. “more than okay,” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek.

“can i fuck you?” he ask almost hesitantly, you giggle. was he really asking you that?

you nod,”please.”

in an instant, eren is naked, manspread as you’re straddling him. the heat between your bodies is palpable, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation and desire. your lips are intertwined with his, a passionate dance that leaves you both breathless and yearning for more. his thick cock twitches against your warm pussy, the sensation sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire deep within you. his arms dig into your skin, his fingers kneading your doughy thighs with a fervor that speaks of his desperation and need.

he can’t get enough of you, his voice breaking as he pleads, "ʚ♡ɞ p-please,fuck me," the whine in his tone making your heart race and your core tighten. you grind your slick folds against him, feeling the hardness of his cock pressing against you, so hard it feels like he might explode at any moment. "patience baby," you murmur against his ear. he shivers, his body reacting to every word, every touch, every breath. your stomach churns with desire as his head lulls back against the seat, his eyebrows knitting together in a mixture of pleasure and frustration.

you rub your throbbing clit against his swollen pink flushed tip, the friction driving you both to the edge of ecstasy. his eyes flutter closed, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he struggles to maintain control. every movement, every touch, is a symphony of sensation, a dance of desire that leaves you both yearning for more.

his hands move from your thighs to your hips, guiding your movements as you continue to grind against him. each stroke, each grind, brings you closer to the precipice of pleasure. his moans grow louder, more desperate, as he feels you thriving against him. "please," he whispers again, his voice barely audible over the sound of your combined breaths. you can feel his need, his desire, and it mirrors your own. "since you asked so nicely," you sink onto him, moaning softly at the stinging stretch.

“you’re s-so big,” a broken sob leaves your lips, he was gonna fucking break you.

“you can take it, i know you can.” eren murmurs against your shoulder, arms holding you in place. he resists the urge to buck his hips into you, you’re so tight and warm around him.

once you’re adjusted, you begin raising your hips on eren, your mewls of pleasure mixing with the rhythmic slap of your ass against his thighs. the sensation is intoxicating, each movement sending waves of ecstasy through your bodies. eren's hands grip your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he guides your movements, his eyes dark with lust and need.

"god, you feel so good," he groans, his voice thick with desire. he pushes his thumb into your asshole and you nearly scream, “so tight,” he gasps,his words send a shiver down your spine, adding fuel to the fire burning within you. you lean forward, your hands resting on his chest for support, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingertips. the connection between you is electric, every touch, every movement intensifying the pleasure you both feel.

"mm, you like that, baby?" you whisper, your voice breathless and filled with longing. you can see the answer in his eyes, but you want to hear him say it. you want to hear the desperation in his voice, the need that mirrors your own.

"yes," he gasps, his head falling back against the seat, his eyes closing again as he loses himself in the sensation. "please, don't stop."

you smile, a sense of power and satisfaction washing over you. you increase your pace, your hips moving faster, the sound of your bodies coming together echoing in the space. each thrust brings you closer to the edge, the pleasure building with every movement.

"you're so deep," you moan, your voice trembling with the intensity of your feelings. eren's grip on your hips tightens, his own breaths coming in ragged gasps. you can feel him getting closer, his body tensing beneath you. you’re a creamy mess as you ride his cock, the sick sound of your pussy queefing each time you lower onto him making your stomach twist.

you nearly scream as eren begins bucking his hips up into you, his thrusts fast and unrelenting. the intensity of his movements sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making it hard to catch your breath. his inked hands grip your cheeks, pulling them apart to glide deeper into your wetness. the sensation is overwhelming, tears brimming in your eyes as he rolls into you with a fervor that leaves you trembling.

"tell me you love me," he pants, his voice rough and desperate. his eyes lock onto yours, filled with a need that mirrors your own. the urgency in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, adding to the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

"i love you," you manage to gasp, your voice breaking with the intensity of your feelings. the words feel inadequate to express the depth of your emotions, but it's all you can manage in the heat of the moment.

eren's mouth descends to your chest, his lips latching onto one of your nipples. the sensation of his mouth sucking on your sensitive flesh sends another wave of pleasure crashing over you, making you arch your back and cry out. his hands continue to guide your movements, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

"mm, i fucking love you," you sob, the words spilling out in a rush of emotion. the tears that had been brimming in your eyes now spill over, streaking down your cheeks as you lose yourself in the overwhelming pleasure and love you feel for him.

eren's pace quickens, his hips driving up into you with a relentless rhythm that leaves you breathless. each movement is a testament to his need for you, his desire to feel you, to be as close to you as possible. the connection between you feels electric, every touch, every thrust amplifying the intensity of your emotions.

"i love you so much," he groans, his voice thick with emotion. his grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pushes you both closer to the edge. the sensation of his body moving against yours, the sound of your breaths mingling, the raw emotion in his voice—it all combines to create a moment that feels both profound and beautiful.

as you reach the peak of your pleasure, your body shudders, a wave of ecstasy washing over you. eren follows moments later, seed decorating your sore walls.you collapse against him, your bodies slick with sweat.

eren's arms wrap around you, holding you close as you come down from the high. his lips press gentle kisses to your hair, a soft, loving gesture that contrasts with the intensity of what you just shared.

“ain’t no fucking way—“ ony, connie, and sasha say in unison as they watch the car rock. ony laughs out loud, smacking connie's shoulder. he pulls out his phone and starts recording, connie shoves ony's hands away. what's his damn deal with hitting whenever he laughs? connie feels a bit jealous. at least someone’s getting some. he looks over to sasha, who’s crying, “girl—is you crying?” connie breaks into a smile.

“i’m just so happy they made up! i hope she gets pregnant. i wanna be an aunt.” she sniffles, wiping her tears away with a smile.

“you are mad wild for saying that—where’s armin?” connie asks, shaking his head in disbelief.

“here! what’s up—oh,” armin's voice trails off as he looks at the car, funnel cake dropping out of his hand. he stands there, mouth open in shock, the powdered sugar from the funnel cake dusting his shoes.

“did he forget his back window isn’t tinted?” connie asks, raising an eyebrow. they all burst into laughter, the absurdity of the situation hitting them all at once. the car continues to rock, oblivious to the audience it has gathered.

@cinnn4mon all rights reserved, pls don’t steal or post my work anywhere else. byeeee!🫧

[luvyeni]

❛SMOKE YOU OUT❜ ( n. jaemin )

authors note: this was a request

p. bsf!jaemin x fem!reader w. 2.2k+

— 𖦹 warnings. plug!jaemin, car sex, dirty talk, drug use

— 𖦹 ( car sex with jaemin after smoking ) !

‘Come out , im outside.’

You threw a sweater over your pajamas , slipping on your teddy bear  slippers as you made your way out the car — it was just jaemin , he’d never judge you.

“Look at you , all pretty.” He sat leaned back in the drivers seat. You rolled your eyes as you slipped into the passenger seat. “My little passenger princess.” That’s how you guys were , your relationship had always been like this since you first met.

You both remember it was like it was yesterday — granted neither of you were sober. But it was during a party , jeno’s monthly party , jaemin went because it was good for business , he didn’t expect to meet his best friend that night — or his number one customer.

“You got it?” you asked , jaemin clutched his heart. “is that all you care about , my weed.” You pouted , whining. “you know I love you nana.” He smiled. “of course I have it.” He pulled out three packs of his finest strand. “for my best customer.” You smiled taking the bag. “here.” You handed him the money , he shooed you off. “not this time.”

“Why not , you need to make money too.” You said. “because we’re gonna smoke it together.” He said. “you letting me smoke you out na jaemin?” he laughed as you put on your seat belt. “sure princess if that’s what you want to call it.” He said driving off.

You turned on the radio , resting your feet on the dashboard as he drove to your favorite smoking spot — it was secluded so no one could bother you, and the cops couldn’t catch you. “nice slippers.” He teased eyes on the rode. “well im sorry I didn’t get all dressed up and pretty to smoke with you.”

Jaemin didn’t care what you were wearing though , you still looked just as pretty as any girl jaemin knew — even more beautiful if you asked him. “don’t worry about princess , you’re face makes up for it.” You laughed , “thanks.”

He pulled into the spot , keeping the heat on to keep the cold outside , and the music running. “you ready?” He handed you everything you needed — you prepared a few blunts , knowing how jaemin was. “really" he said. “you know how you are.” He shrugged. “you right.”

He handed you a lighter — putting the blunt to your lips , lighting it up. Taking a long drag , passing it back to jaemin , letting the air fill up your lungs before exhaling. “Good?” Jaemin asked , taking a drag. “good.”

You guys passed it back and forth ,slowly letting the drug take over as you talked about your day. “I can’t wait until exam season is over and I can just sleep.” Jaemins head was thrown back , eyes low as he listened to you talk , something he could do whether he was sober or not. “and get high.”

After a blunt and a half , jaemin was taking it out of your hand. “that’s enough princess.” He put it out , the windows were all fogged up , the car filled with smoke. “Why?” you whined , your plump lips in a pout. “don’t pout princess , you know you don’t need all that.” He pulled at your bottom lip , you had to stop yourself from letting out a noise. “cute.”

You looked at your friend , your eyes trailing up his body , his muscular arms bulging out of his black t-shirt , his thighs looking delicious in his grey sweatpants — fuck he looked good. “jesus princess , you’re not even trying to hide it.”

He was smirking at you — you were so unaware that you were squeezing your thighs together , his cock growing in his sweats. “if you want to kiss me , then just say it.” He said. “wh-what i- do—” you gasped as he grabbed your jaw, looking at your lips. “don’t lie.” He ran his thumb across your bottom lip. “ja-jaemin.”

He pulled you into a kiss , his hand that was holding your jaw , trailing down to your neck , slightly squeezing. He smiled as you moaned against his lips , pulling away. “look at you all horny and I barely did anything.”

Your panties were sticking uncomfortably to your core , you started whining. “jaemin ,please.” He laughed at how fast you got so needy. “backseat princess.” He kissed your lips again. “now.”

You climbed into the backseat , he followed behind slapping your ass. “jaemin stop.” He smiled cheekily. “been waiting forever to do that baby , take those pajamas off.” He said , pulling his pants to his ankles , pulling out his semi hard cock out , stroking it , throwing his head back. “fuck.”

You watched him jerk off , as you took off your pants and your underwear , leaving your sweatshirt off. “get in my lap baby , want you to ride my cock.” You straddled his hip , grabbing his cock. “fuck sit on it princess.”

Both of you let out a moan as his cock filled your cunt. “jaemin.” You moaned as he stretched you out. “fu-fuck princess , perfect fucking cunt.” You rocked your hips back and forth , both your heads thrown back. “s-so big.”

Jaemin slapped your ass , telling you to go faster. “fuck princess , taking my cock like a champ , go faster.” You bounced on his cock , moaning louder and louder. “ja-jaemin , fuck!”

He grabbed your waist , leaning forward to grab the blunt he put out and a lighter. “fu-fuck princess , keep riding my dick -shit- just like that.” He lit the blunt , taking a drag. He grabbed your jaw like before , bring his lips to yours , the smoking filling up your lungs. “sh-shit princess you like huh?” he grunted. “pussy just clenched so tightly.”

“jaemin -fuck- jaemin im not gonna last.” He chuckled , even though he wasn’t that far behind either and you could tell the way his cock twitched inside you. “Sh-shit baby , go ahead , make a mess on my cock for me.”

You held on the window , throwing your head back , as you came. “fuck!" you screamed. He grabbed your waist , fucking up into your cunt. “gonna cum in this pussy.” He groaned. “gonna let me breed you pretty girl?”

“Yes please.” You moaned out , the car filled with smoke , the stench of sex in the air as he fucked up into your cunt. “sh-shit im cumming — fuck!” he groaned , you felt him shooting his load into your cunt. “shit.” He took another drag of the blunt , shot gunning you again.

“Jesus princess , if you fuck like that when you’re high , I gotta keep getting you high.” You laughed , heavily breathing. “you plan to keep doing this with me , you’re gonna go broke giving me free weed then.” He shrugged his shoulders handing you the blunt.

“Fuck i don’t care about going broke if I get to smoke you out and fuck this pretty pussy whenever.”

©️LUVYENI

[foxcantswim]

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Jealousy Hurts]

(gif by me)

Mike starts to flirt with you. Vanessa definitely isn't jealous. Contents: Fluff, Angst(ish), Established Relationship Warnings: N/A WC: 2,220

"No no, like this," Mike laughed as he rolled the ball masterfully, he had been bragging about how good at skee-ball he was so you had asked him to teach you. After all, there wasn't a lot to do on the night shift so you might as well waste some time. Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy had been standing a few feet away watching the two of you play, each of them seeming curious.

You rolled another ball but it fell short again.

"Ah, I'll never get it," you groaned, already wanting to give up after failing to get a decent score for the past hour.

Mike smiled at you, stepping closer, "No. Come on. Let me show you." He grabbed another ball and showed you the angle of his arm, "It's simple. Just enough strength in the throw, not too much. And..." he released the ball and it swiftly made its way down the lane and up into one of the high score pockets, "Easy."

"You mean you make it look easy," you rolled your eyes at him and folded your arms in frustration.

He chuckled to himself before holding a ball towards you, "Come on. Let me help."

Vanessa sat in her patrol car outside the pizzeria, her fingers tapping on the wheel. She had been sitting here for almost an hour now, deciding on whether or not to go inside. Her eyes drifted to the clock on the dashboard - 02:40am. She'd usually check in on you every other night to make sure you were okay, but tonight she knew you were on shift with Mike... And yet here she was, pondering on whether or not to go in and see how you were doing. She definitely wasn't here to make sure Mike wasn't going to try anything on you... Definitely not.

Finally, she stepped out of her vehicle and slammed the door shut. She went towards the front doors and peered through the glass, she could see that the lights were on and she could hear faint music. She was about to knock but decided to try the door instead... And of course it was unlocked. Vanessa rolled her eyes in frustration, she couldn't count the amount of times she'd told you to make sure the doors were locked every night.

Upon stepping inside, she could hear muffled voices and laughter - she presumed it was from you and Mike. The stage was empty as she walked past it towards the arcade games, she could clearly see the tall animatronics at the back of the room by the skee-ball machines.

She manoeuvred her way past different games and machines, stepping over loose wires here and there making sure not to trip. She finally made it to the skee-ball machines, she patted Freddy on the arm to let him know that she was there. He stepped out of the way to let her through, however she stopped in her tracks at what she saw.

Mike was standing behind you, one of his hands slowly moving up your arm towards your wrist. Your hand soon lay in his palm, a ball was secure in your hand.

"And you just gotta..." Mike's voice was quiet as Vanessa watched him move your hand with his.

Vanessa decided to clear her voice, making herself known. Both you and Mike turned to look at her.

You dropped the ball and retracted away from Mike with a smile, "Vanessa!" you exclaimed with a smile, walking over to her, "I didn't think you were coming tonight."

Vanessa couldn't help but glare at Mike as you approached her and wrapped her up in your arms, she more than willingly returned the hug as you pressed your lips to her cheek.

"I er... I wasn't aware you two knew each other," Mike coughed awkwardly.

You had been working as an overnight security guard longer than Mike had, you met Vanessa in the first week and you two had hit it off pretty quickly - entering into a relationship only a few months after meeting. A couple of months later, another security guard was hired: Mike. You had only worked duo shifts with him a few times now but you already saw him as a close friend, it was nice to have someone to talk to on long night shifts.

"Oh! Yes. I met Vanessa a few days after I started working here," you said as you pulled away from the hug, Vanessa made sure to grab your hand with hers - she tried her hardest to not keep glaring at Mike. You squeezed her hand in response, "She's my girlfriend. Has been for a couple months now." Vanessa couldn't stop the small smile from appearing on her face.

Mike raised an eyebrow, "Ah... I'm just... surprised it never came up," he shifted on the balls of his feet awkwardly.

"To be honest I didn't even know you two met," you replied.

Vanessa nodded, "I helped him out for the first couple of days," she stepped ever so slightly closer to your side, her hand still firm in yours, "I wasn't going to come over tonight but I was... passing by so I decided to anyways." She definitely wasn't passing by, her last area of patrol was on the other side of town.

"Well, I'm glad you came," you smiled.

Vanessa smirked at you, "Oh really? You usually complain, saying something along the lines of 'I don't need you to keep me company every night, I'm a big girl'."

You rolled your eyes, "Just because I don't need you here, doesn't mean I don't want you here," you then turned your attention back towards Mike, who seemed to be uncomfortable, "I'm sure time will absolutely fly by now that there's more of us."

"What were you two up to?" Vanessa said, her mind going back to when Mike was practically wrapped around you.

"Mike over here is apparently the best skee-ball player that anyone has ever seen. So he was teaching me how to play. I'm sure I could challenge him any day now."

Mike laughed, "I'm sure you could, Y/N."

The three of you made your way towards the main stage, the animatronics walked behind you.

"What should we do to get through these last three hours, hm?" you wondered, looking around the room.

"I mean... We are at Freddy Fazbear's after all. Couldn't hurt to watch them perform a little," Vanessa suggested, nodding towards the showtime button on the wall. You looked towards the animatronics, they almost seemed excited to get up there and put on a show.

You and Vanessa were sitting at one of the party tables, listening to the music coming from the stage. Freddy, Bonnie and Chica were currently performing whilst Foxy stood by your table, he seemed to be enjoying the show.

Vanessa reached across the table to hold your hand, "Sorry for coming here unannounced, Y/N. Just wanted to see how things were going with... Mike."

You nodded, "Him and I became friends quite quickly. It is nice to have someone here when you aren't able to stop by. The animatronics are good company, but it can't hurt to have someone I can actually have a conversation with." You noticed the way Vanessa squeezed your hand ever so slightly as you spoke. You cocked your head at her before teasing, "You're still my favourite, don't worry. I'd rather have you here."

She grit her teeth, "You know, I'm happy you do have someone to keep you company when I'm not here."

A smirk appeared on your face, "Is that so?"

Before Vanessa could answer, Mike walked into the room with a couple of cans in his hands, "I managed to find a vending machine that still worked," he said, handing you a drink. Vanessa gulped hard as she saw him purposefully drag his fingers across yours as you took the drink. He simply placed the other drink on the table in front of Vanessa.

"They aren't out of date are they?" you said, trying to read the scuffed label.

With a shrug, he walked towards the front of the room to take a seat closer to the stage. Foxy followed close behind him before sprinting past him at full speed, jumpscaring him in the process. You couldn't help but laugh at Mike's reaction as he almost threw the can at Foxy.

You released Vanessa's hand in order to open the can, "I mean I am thirsty..." you hummed, a smile on your face.

Vanessa glared at Mike from across the room, "It's Fizzy Faz. It's disgusting."

You noticed that Vanessa was currently glaring at Mike as the man took his seat, "You sure? Is it disgusting or... Do you not want to drink it because of Mike?"

Her eyes snapped onto you, "Because of Mike? Wh-"

"Come on, Nessy," you grabbed her hand across the table once more, placing the can down onto the table, "I've noticed the glaring. What's going on?"

"Nothing is going on, Y/N," she didn't intend for her voice to sound so cold or snappy, but she couldn't help it.

A frown appeared on your face, "V..."

She sighed heavily, "Sorry. Sorry, Y/N. It's nothing, okay? Mike just..."

You had a slight suspicion of what was going on, but you really wanted her to tell you, "You can talk to me, Nessy. You know I won't judge you, right?"

"It's so stupid, Y/N," she laughed, shaking her head.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, Vanessa's hand rubbed your knuckles as she tried to think about how to word what she was thinking.

You bit your lip before breaking the silence, "Can you play skee-ball?"

Vanessa was confused by the question, "Skee-ball?"

"Yeah. Are you any good at it?"

"I... I haven't played in a while. But I'd say I've still got it."

"Would you like to teach me instead?" you smirked.

Vanessa rolled her eyes, knowing what you were getting at, "Y/N..."

"Come on, Vanessa. Just admit you didn't like seeing Mike teach me like that."

She scoffed, "Can you blame me? Wouldn't you be pissed if you saw someone all up on your girlfriend like that?"

"To be honest I didn't think anything of it in the moment. I'm sorry, I should've been more aware. I wouldn't give you up for anything. You believe me, right?" you said, hoping for her to understand.

With a sigh, Vanessa nodded, "It's okay, Y/N. I didn't think you were in the wrong," her eyes drifted over to Mike who was currently downing his can of Fizzy Faz, a grimace appeared on his face as he slammed the can down onto the table, "You know he likes you, right?" she looked back at you.

You briefly glanced towards him, "I don't think so..."

She laughed slightly, "Of course he does. Those longing looks, the lingering touches. Him holding your hand teaching you how to play skee-ball. It's every cliché in the book."

"Okay, so maybe he does. But I promise to turn him down if anything happens, okay?"

With a nod, she replied, "Okay. Sorry for acting this way."

"I think it's cute. Shows that you care about me."

She almost looked offended, "Cute is not the word I would use to describe me."

You let go of her hand, she was surprised by the sudden lack of touch. You made your way round to sit in the seat next to her, "You are cute, whether you like it or not," you leaned your head on her shoulder.

Vanessa couldn't stop herself from resting her cheek against your head. The two of you looked over at the animatronics who were still performing, Foxy now having his own little performance on his own stage.

You stretched your arm across the table to grab your can of Fizzy Faz, you removed your head from Vanessa's shoulder to take a sip...

"It's disgusting."

"Told you," Vanessa smirked in victory, "It's probably years out of date too, I can't imagine what it tastes like."

You put the can back down before turning towards Vanessa, "You should taste it."

"I think I will pass on that, thanks."

"You sure?" you leaned closer.

Vanessa turned her head towards yours. She wasted no time in pressing her lips to yours, a soft smile creeping up onto her face. You smiled into the kiss as you felt Vanessa's hand creep up your neck to hold the back of your head. Sadly, you both needed to breath so she pulled away.

She licked her lips causing your breath to hitch... A grimace soon appeared on her face, "God, it tastes disgusting."

You couldn't help but laugh, "I know."

That didn't stop Vanessa from going in for seconds, though.

Vanessa x F!Reader - Safety Latch (Fluff,Angst,First Kiss)

Vanessa x F!Reader - Total Insecurity (Angst,Hurt/Comfort)

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Curb… Curb!!

Requested by the lovely @pipsqueakkitten xoxo

Blurb: Eddie tries to help you pass your driving test…

Pairing: Bestfriend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiousness/anxiety is experienced, bad driving, fluff, kissing… that’s it!

-

Eddie’s favourite song thumps through the speakers in his van, the entire vehicle feels as if it is vibrating beneath your seat with every pulsing sound wave. Eddie’s fingers drum against the dashboard, his head banging up and down to the beat which makes his ringed hair flip wildly. Unbeknownst to Eddie, though, the music was only intensifying the anxiety ridden beast that had awoken deep inside of your stomach. You hated driving. Despised it, even, however you knew that if you wanted to ever make it out of this cursed town then you needed to get your license and quick.

“Eddie…” you whimper but your meek voice is lost beneath the music. Your hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles have turned pale- the bones straining aggressively against the skin.

After being ignored you let out a huff, your eyes nearly welling with tears as you try to stop your legs from shaking- the ‘Elvis Leg’ is what your instructor calls it. When your nervous system lights up like a Christmas tree and the muscles in your calf’s spasm outwith your control.

“Eddie!!” You manage to muster a yell, your throat is disturbingly dry in your panicked state and your palms are beginning to sweat against the leather of the steering wheel. You are oddly aware of the way your bare thighs are pressed against your seat, the stiff carpeted fabric irking the skin and suddenly how hot it is inside of the van.

“Oh c’mon, sweetheart!” Eddie flashes you a Cheshire toothy grin that you only manage to catch a second long glimpse of, “You usually love this song!” His abdomen twists toward you, his chocolate brownie eyes drinking in your tense mannerisms.

Your elbows are locked in a 45° angle and your eyes are blown to the size of saucers. You look absolutely terrified and Eddie’s heart shrinks in his chest at the sight, “Honey? hey…” His calluses covered finger tips hesitantly find the plush skin of your thigh, resting his hand there and allowing his fingertips to dance circles over your knees, “It’s okay. I’m sorry…” The music is turned all the way down with his free hand and you feel as though you can breathe again.

“I can’t do this.” Your head shakes a top your shoulders as you mind swirls with nothing but doubt and frustration. You’re never going to pass your test.

Eddie shushes you comfortingly, “Yes you can. There’s no one around, love.” He scans the parking lot that is totally deserted, you are the only two there, “You don’t have to worry so much. Just take your time. Nice n’ easy.”

Nice and easy. Take your time.

There is a sharp intake of breath as you register Eddie’s hand on your thigh. Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock on your forehead as you flick your eyes over at him, smiling nervously.

“Now, if you just focus on your steering-“ You exhale deeply, your fingers loosening slightly as you relax back onto the seat, “Aim for that trash can over there.” Eddie’s ringed finger points off into the distance and you chew on your lip- a habit you’ve gained as you concentrate.

You appreciate Eddie’s patience and how calm he is next to you. You aren’t the best driver in the world and you’re grateful that Eddie is trying his best to make this as fun as possible for you. You know driving shouldn’t stress anyone out as much as it stresses you out- but you’re an anxious person. You can’t help it.

Listening to Eddie you circle around the empty spaces in the lot, driving toward the trash can Eddie had pointed out… however a sudden outburst from the messy headed man next to you makes your heart stop in your chest.

“Curb… curb!!” He reaches for the steering wheel, pulling it toward him and swerving you both out of the way. The van screeches to a haunt and your ears are ringing with fear as you try to ground yourself.

Eddie chuckles by your side but you don’t feel like laughing, actually, your hand grabs at your chest desperate to calm your thundering heart. If you thought you were afraid before, this must be hell itself causing havoc inside of your chest.

Your vision blanks and all you can focus on is the short bursts of breath being sucked in and out of your mouth. Eddie’s voice is lost to the black cloud entrapping your mind.

“Sweetheart? Baby?” His large palms find your shoulders shortly after he had unbuckled your seatbelt, “Honey, you’re scaring me.” You still are unable to respond, tears blurring your vision completely as your body starts to tremble uncontrollably.

“I’ve got you… I’ve got you.” Eddie pulls you to his chest, holding your head there with your ear pressed flush against his pecks. You get sucked into the rhythm of his beating heart and its acts like an anchor, bringing you back to safety.

“I don’t want to drive anymore today.” Your voice is a mix of sniffles and a hoarseness and Eddie quietly nods his head, acknowledging how fearful you are.

“How about you sit on my lap as I take you home? Show you that there’s nothing to be afraid of…” In reality, Eddie just wanted to keep you as close to him as possible. He can sense that his touch is comforting to you, but it’s also comforting to him to have you so near.

There is a pause, a moment of thought before you mod your head in agreement, allowing Eddie to slot beneath you in the drivers seat, “Can you see the road?” You question, your body is still on edge.

“Yep, sure can.” He promises, pulling the seatbelt to its maximum length so it’ll fit over the both of you. Eddie has a bad habit of not wearing a seatbelt very often, but he prioritises your safety above all else.. even his ego. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” And without another word Eddie speeds off into the distance, one hand leisurely placed on the steering wheel and the other rests on the inside of your thigh, squishing and gripping the skin.

You loved spending time with Eddie, it was why he was your best friend. You both spent nearly every waking moment together- laughing, fighting over who gets the last cookie and you always managed to partake in silly things like this.

He knew how to calm your wild heart just with a simple touch, just with a look or a smile. He knew you.

As your street approached in the distance Eddie laid a few peckish kisses onto your exposed shoulder, making you giggle at the contact. He would do anything to hear you laugh- to see you happy. Even if that meant he never got to tell you how he felt… how he loved you more than just being friends.

He thanks his lucky stars every night for the both of you meeting. It started in the halls at school, you weren’t paying attention and you rammed into him- papers flew everywhere, your lips parted in utter shock and Eddie forced himself to laugh otherwise he would have been pissed. But once he got a good look at you.. part of him knew you’d be together. Friends or not.

“Here we are!” Eddie exclaims with a grin and you return a smile.

“You wanna come in?” You ask, toying with the hem of your skirt, “Everyone’s out for the night… I don’t wanna be alone.” You shrug, trying to dismiss your honesty and Eddie twists the key in the ignition, the engine coming to a roaring stop.

“Lead the way, m’lady.” Throwing open the van door you jump down from the seat, about to kiss the ground with happiness at the mere sight of it. You’ve never been more thrilled to have your feet on the ground than you are right now.

“I can stay the night, if you’d like? Can watch some cheesy movies and critique them together?” Your heart flutters.

“Deal- you just can’t say anything bad about Dirty Dancing, okay? Otherwise I’ll take a swing at you.” You were joking partly. You just loved to watch Eddie squirm with annoyance, impatiently waiting to have his pick of the next film.

He groans, throwing his head back childishly, “Fine.” He follows you into the empty house. It’s dark and there is a prick of a chill in the air.

“If I have to endure this fetish fest just because you’re madly in love with Patrick Swayze then you have to watch The Shining afterwards-“ You interrupt him with a gasp.

Offended, you say, “I am not in love with Patrick Swayze!” Your voice is a shriek and Eddie smirks.

“You so are! Gawking at his muscles. Why else would you watch it? You watch it to watch him!” Eddie can barely speak from laughing and you swat at his chest.

“I do not watch it for him! He isn’t even attractive, he doesn’t look like you!” A silence falls over the living room and you gulp all too loudly.

“What?” Eddie is no longer laughing and there is a seriousness in his voice.

“I didn’t say anything-“

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, stepping closer to you, “What did you say about Patrick Swayze not looking like me?” You can see Eddie fighting to stop a shit eating grin from blessing his face and your cheeks heat as he repeats your own words back at you.

“He doesn’t, evidentially.” You gesture to Eddies body, your eyes shooting wide as you realise how bitchy you sound, “No- it’s a good thing! I like the way you look- I love the way you look. I don’t like him. That’s what I’m trying to say-“ As you ramble Eddie watches you closely, his eyes falling to your lips.

“God, do you ever shut up?” Your jaw falls slack and before you can even think of a reply Eddie presses his lips to yours. The warmth of him being so near envelopes you and transports you to a whole new dimension.

The kiss is sweet and tender, Eddie wants to be careful with you. He doesn’t want to ruin this. But he doesn’t know how badly you want him. How badly you have wanted this for so long.

“Patrick fucking Swayze cannot compare to all of this.” Eddie’s hands stroke down his chest, his hips swaying from side to side causing you to snort out a laugh.

“No… no he can’t.” You agree, your voice gentle as you pull Eddie back to you, going in for another kiss.

This time, you’re not letting him go.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n

[bbhyeoliskooks]

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐝?! | TXT

TXT & the one bed trope *:ꔫ:*

❈ genre: fluff (I was kicking and screaming while writing this)

❈ warnings: a lil suggestive perhaps, nightmares and being shot in a dream

yeonjun *:ꔫ:*

⭒ both you and yeonjun were always going on road trips- your favorite activity to spend time together- never expecting the worst until Yeonjun's beloved car had broken down

⭒ at first he refused to leave his car alone, trying to figure out why it decided to stop working without any warning signals on the dashboard

⭒ unfortunately no matter what he did, the car just wouldn't turn on??? after a while he decided that he couldn't take matters into his own hands anymore, calling a mechanic that could hopefully face him in the right direction or even better, fix the situation altogether

⭒ since this was a road trip though, the nearest one was miles away and because it was already nearing night, the mechanic would have to fix the car tomorrow... meaning that you and yeonjun were stranded for the night

⭒ it would be a little scary since this situation took place in the middle of nowhere, making you both vulnerable, but it was okay as long as you had each other; if anything, your best friend Yeonjun made you feel protected and you knew he would do anything to keep you safe

⭒ yeonjun decided that the most comfortable way to sleep until the morning was to fold over the back seats and sleep in the trunk... which meant that you and him would be sharing blankets and pillows- one "bed" actually

⭒ you didn't mind, it's just that the thought had you internally dying because you could potentially end up wrapping limbs around your best friend until sun rays disturbed your peaceful sleep

⭒ yeonjun seemed to be a little embarrassed as well, clearing his throat as he fluffed your pillow and placed it beside him silently

⭒ you laid down, trying to grab the blanket that he was insistingly holding onto, stating that he was too cold and you should get your own blanket (which was, funnily enough, your blanket in the first place)

⭒ you both laughed, a natural conversation playing out as if you weren't laying side by side- yeonjun cocked on his side, staring at you with a smirk on his face while you laid completely on your side

⭒ although you enjoyed talking to him, the night became colder and it was harder to concentrate on your conversations as you felt your whole body shake under the merciless cold

⭒ it didn't help that you were already under a thin blanket and you tried to hide it- that ultimately failed because Yeonjun knew exactly what you were feeling at whatever moment as your best(est) friend

⭒ he simply opened his arms although it took a lot of bravery (did I mention that he has the biggest crush on you like ever) and gently coaxed you to come over because it would be a lot warmer in his chest instead of trying to find warmth in a blanket that would not provide as much help as he did

⭒ cuddling with Yeonjun was actually natural, it seemed as if you were made to be next to him like this as his warmth calmed you down completely

⭒ you hoped that he wouldn't hear the erratic beating of your heart with how close he was

⭒ when there was nothing else to be said and sleep was weighing heavily on both of your eyes, Yeonjun turned off the car light nearby and snuggled up next to you

⭒ "we should do this more often," he sighed, resting his chin on top of your head as you tried to agree out loud, sleep taking you over soundlessly

⭒ when you awoke the next morning to find a sleepy Yeonjun holding you tight by the waist and refusing to let go, you felt the lines between friends and lovers blur even more

soobin *:ꔫ:*

⭒ your parents' small little cabin was always open for you whenever you needed it, so both you and soobin agreed that it would be fun to spend the weekend there

⭒ the drive there was a couple hours, with both of you making stops to pee and grab some snacks that definitely would not provide sustenance but were super yummy

⭒ when you reached there at night, the cabin was well-kept and clean; a place for your parents to go whenever they needed alone time from the kids

⭒ you hadn't actually been there before since your parents wanted to keep it open for any future honeymoon until you begged them to give you the keys; it'd be super fun just to crash there with your friends every once in a while!

⭒ so it had been both you and soob's first time going into the cabin, an adventure that would weave itself into your memories forever

⭒ when you arrived, sore butt from sitting all day and barely used legs, you were stoked to check out the whole place... eventually leading you to the one and only bed in the place.

⭒ soobin followed behind you, checking out the cabin and admiring the details of the room although it was quite small for his tall frame

⭒ you felt embarrassed but put it away for later, running to soobin so that you could grab dinner together; one of you would wound up sleeping in the couch anyway but that was a problem for future you later

⭒ when night showed its face, silver moon gleaming and all, you had to confront the problem of there only being one bed

⭒ soobin insisted on sleeping on the couch, saying that a precious person like you should only sleep on the bed; it was your parent's cabin after all

⭒ but you couldn't help but want him near when it became dark, trying to muster up all your courage to ask him to come over to the bed

⭒ when you heard soobin moving around, trying to find a comfortable spot from the rough couch, you had enough and murmured that he shouldn't sleep there and that he's free to come to the bed

⭒ soobin asked a million times if it was okay before shyly crawling under the covers with you, trying not to overstep his boundary between the established sides

⭒ you laughed, watching him awkwardly going back and forth between laying on his side or his back and stared at him with the softest smile on your face

⭒ "soobin, it's okay. I promise I feel comfortable, okay?" with that last sentence you decided to drift off to sleep, enjoying the presence of soobin who unknowingly to you was a mess, red cheeks and mushy insides

⭒ it took a while for him to sleep, trying not to freak out that he was in bed with his best friend and crush

⭒ you awoke to soobin holding you close, his arm underneath your head as he looked at you with the softest grin on his face, his other hand gently tracing circles on your cheek

⭒ even though there were endless apologies spilling from his mouth, it was safe to say that soobin enjoyed it (probably more than you atp) and would hope there was one bed every time you went somewhere together

beomgyu *:ꔫ:*

⭒ beomgyu and you had been best friends from the start because your families were super close

⭒ this time, his family decided to host a grand party open to all friends, making beomgyu's house super lively despite both of you hanging out alone in his room together the whole time

⭒ usually your family would end up staying over since everyone would get drunk, but you had no complaints! it was more fun this way, being glued to gyu's side 24/7 (to which he did not complain about either)

⭒ this night was one of many, with both of you talking the night away, recollecting new memories and laughing about old drama that happened in the house or within your friend group

⭒ soon it became dark and the house started to quiet, signaling that it was time to sleep although your mind begged your mind not to, hopeless to spend more time with your favorite boy

⭒ unable to stop it, you yawned, begrudgingly getting up from your comfortable spot even though it took a lot of willpower. you were too embarrassed to ask beomgyu if you could stay, knowing that if you did then your crush on him would immediately be revealed

⭒ beomgyu jumped up, a hint of desperation in his voice as he unconsciously reached out for you

⭒ "don't leave," he pleaded, trying to strike you with puppy eyes as you lingered near the door

⭒ you scoffed, trying to pass your bashfulness as annoyance when all you wanted to do was get under the covers with him, "but where will I sleep for the night?"

⭒ beomgyu paused for a moment, his eyes searching in yours hopelessly as his hand involuntarily patted at the spot right next to him, "here. you can sleep here."

⭒ you said nothing, moving to where he laid in silence while he tried to prepare the messy bed

⭒ when you got comfy, too embarrassed and giddy that you were sharing a bed with beomgyu, you moved very far away in hopes that he wouldn't be able to see how weak you were

⭒ he just pouted, trying to pull your arm so you could face him, red and hot with the fact that he was so near

⭒ "i'm cold. warm me up, please?"

⭒ though beomgyu was clearly lying, his body probably warmer than yours as he snuggled up to your side, you could never say no to the boy that had you wrapped around his finger

taehyun *:ꔫ:*

⭒ working for taehyun as you traveled around the country was wonderful

⭒ not only did you get to see spectacular sights around europe or south america, but you also made a friend in taehyun who was a great boss and person

⭒ even though you had to stay by his side 24/7 as his job required (you were almost like his secretary), you truly enjoyed the time you shared together around the world where he met up with important people at important places

⭒ this time was no exception; you and taehyun were traveling to a boring state in the US and although it wasn't quite memorable, the trip was still important as his business could grow even bigger

⭒ you picked out a random motel under a lot of stress of other decisions, making the stay unplanned as taehyun became tired behind the wheel

⭒ when you arrived into the small room, excited to sit down on a bed and not a leather chair, your insides turned at the fact that there was only one bed

⭒ you threw your suitcase on the floor beside the couch feeling rather upset that this happened. you were so excited to sleep on the bed and look what happened

⭒ taehyun cleared his throat and closed the door, softly pushing it behind him as he studied your growing disappointment, "hey, don't worry. i can sleep on the couch."

⭒ taehyun was truly a gentleman at heart, offering you the bed instead but you refused, planning to stay glued on the couch that wasn't all too comfy for the night but was ultimately good enough for one day

⭒ he took your silence as a rejection, of course, chuckling as he took a long awaited seat on the bed. you groaned, rummaging through your suitcase to find some pajamas to wear after a nice and warm shower

⭒ exiting the hot and steamy haven, you lazily wrapped your hair in a white towel only to find that the couch was occupied by both you and taehyun's luggage... and it was also facing the wall this time, making it impossible to sleep on it for the night

⭒ taehyun giggled mischievously, watching your dumbfounded expression as you demanded why he would do that. out of anything else he could've done, it had to be turning the couch and putting everything on it?!

⭒ "you do so much for me, Y/N. i know i don't say it much, but i am truly grateful. as your boss and friend, let me do this one thing for you, okay? and I'm willing to sleep on the floor if you take the bed."

⭒ you rolled your eyes, trying to fight back a smile, "okay, i'll accept it. but i think this bed is big enough for both of us. we can divide half of it with a pillow?"

⭒ taehyun smirked and your stomach lurched at the flirty tone in his voice, "that's more than good enough for me. i guess we should get some sleep now."

⭒ despite what he said, you and taehyun stayed up for a while, talking about recent events and new days to come. somehow the topic shifted to what you were going to wear for the important event and just clothes in general

⭒ you were laughing about the outfits you had to wear, noting how uncomfortable the last one was at the gala when you found taehyun staring at you with a endeared soft smile on his face

⭒ "i've seen you in a lots of things but I think you look most beautiful here, your hair all a mess and your heart patterned pj's. you're so pretty tonight."

⭒ taehyun was your boss... certainly no code of conduct would allow this, the way you were falling for him hard and the way you found yourself craving his touch

hueningkai *:ꔫ:*

⭒ when you woke up at 4am, your heart beating hysterically and your mind running a thousand miles a minute, you knew that you had a nightmare

⭒ the nightmare was awful; you had dreamed about being shot by one of your family members and dying a very slow and painful death

⭒ now you had felt it physically, the dreamed bullet in your neck as you tried to inhale and calm your trembling body

⭒ a couple hours before, you said goodnight to hyuka, sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms of his house as he stayed close nearby in his room

⭒ he was too much of a gentleman to let you sleep over in his bed. whether you were upset that he was refusing to let you cuddle with him or happy that he was super considerate, you weren't sure

⭒ right now you needed his presence and you jumped out of bed, trying to navigate his room with squinted eyes and fear of the dark

⭒ you burst into kai's room, successfully waking him up from his light sleep

⭒ although he was extremely confused, he was more worried that you were a mess in front of him and woke up immediately, sobering up from a potentially good sleep

⭒ things started to make sense even though you were blubbering- out of everything in the world, you hated nightmares and he knew that

⭒ so when you were crying at the foot of the bed, holding one of his plushies, he was extremely worried that you would run out of tears and most definitely the rest of the water in your system

⭒ kai extended his arms, whispering sweet nothings as you trembled in his chest, trying to steady yourself from the fear that engulfed your mind in flames

⭒ he let you hold a bigger plushy, one of his favorites, even though he claimed it was off-limits always

⭒ you appreciated the gesture, giggling at the hug train that was happening instead of freaking out at your nightmare that slowly faded away from memory

⭒ he softly pressed a kiss against the side of your head, his voice becoming quiet as you melted against his embrace

⭒ "don't come to any other boy but me, okay?"

released: July 19, 2024 (3:00am CT)

thoughts: i'm crying at hyuka's omgggg it's literally the sweetest thing ever. actually i'm crying at all of these!!!! just know I died while writinggg... anyway hope y'all enjoyed! i'm thinking of MAYBE opening requests but i'm still not sure, depends on how busy I am <3 thanks for reading though!

tags:

[kingthunder]

I saw a few of those "bg3 characters driving a car" headcanons and decided to do one myself for fun.

Lae'zel: She learned how to drive on the opposite side of the road from everyone else and her instincts are all wrong for her current location, but back home she's an excellent driver with a spotless driving record. She actually follows the service schedule in the car manual. She gets incensed at people who don't maintain their vehicle properly or who disobey road rules. Her car is immaculately clean. She would love to speed a motorcycle down one of those desert highways with no speed limit, but she's never gotten the opportunity and knows it's too reckless besides. But she wants to.

Karlach: She's had a motorcycle for ages and is a skilled if aggressive driver. However, she only recently learned how to drive a car. She is very enthusiastic about it and always volunteers to drive even though she's not very good yet. She's one of those people that do driving "pranks" like swerving back and forth to make people shriek/laugh, or doing "3, 2, 1 BLASTOFF" and gunning it. Could easily be provoked into an impromptu street race. Drives way too far on empty or with the check engine light on.

Shadowheart: Drives stick so that no one else can drive her car. It's a beat up old station wagon with a busted tail light and looks like shit on the outside, but inside she turned it into a goth mobile with like black velvet seat covers and stuff. She named the car but she won't tell you what. She has an air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror that smells like night orchids. She's a perfectly good boring driver with nothing to note about it UNTIL one day a cop tries to pull her over for her busted tail light and she hits the gas and pulls out all these street racing moves that you had no idea she was capable of and shakes the cop. She'll let you pick the music but if she doesn't like it her silent disapproval is so withering that you voluntarily change it to something she does like.

Astarion: Never got a driver's license and isn't about to get one now. Passenger princess who likes to control the radio but his taste in music sucks. He makes funny mean comments about other drivers and pedestrians. He'll complain if you ask him to fill the gas tank but he'll do it; you're paying for it, though. Actually pretty fun to go on a road trip with because he doesn't care about stuff like "making good time" and he's up for stopping anywhere that looks like it might be entertaining.

Gale: Never got a driver's license because he was always too busy with his studies to care and his mom drove him around and/or did all his errands for him anyway. He's real good at maps though and likes to be helpful by being the navigator. He's the smartest man in the world but he's completely stymied by a gas pump; you're better off pumping the gas yourself and sending him into the gas station for snacks. He always manages to conjure a full meal out of convenience food, somehow, and he's really good at feeding you while you drive.

Wyll: He saved up and bought his own fixer-upper car after getting kicked out of the house as a teenager. Good driver in general. People always think he would make a good designated driver, but actually he likes drinking socially and will politely decline requests to be the DD unless there's no one else available. Sometimes when he's having a bad day he blasts music really loud and finds a deserted area to just fuckin tear ass down as fast as he can go (he'll only do this alone and doesn't tell anyone about it). Never lets you pay for gas even if you offer. Will pick up hitchhikers.

Halsin: Has been driving the same car since 1973. Drives that specific car really well. If you gave him a modern car he would have no idea what anything on the dashboard does. Honestly, he prefers to walk or bike anyway.

Jaheira: Has a fuck-off huge SUV full of empty cans and wrappers from her kids. Absolute maniac of a driver who tailgates and speeds with no regard for road signs or lane markings. She is going to GET where she is GOING and gods help you if you get in the way.

Minsc: Failed the driving test three times and just gets rides from Jaheira. This does not bother him in the slightest. He tells you that Boo can drive vehicles you've never even heard of.

Minthara: Has run someone over on purpose.