#my first guess was Will. but then I remembered that he’s not even mentioned until TLO
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applecidersstuff · 18 hours ago
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So yesterday I was in a bookstore looking through the new pjo covers, and I have only one question-
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Whose the second person?
The person with dark hair I’m assuming is Percy, but the second person doesn’t match any of the characters who could be there.
Annabeth has longer hair. Grover has dark hair and should be wearing a dress. Clarrise could match but both her and Tyson are canonically bigger than Percy in SOM and that person is either shorter or about the same height as Percy, and is clearly WAY skinnier than either of them should be.
I would assume it’s show!Percy, but on TLT cover he has dark hair.
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beautiful-basque-country · 17 hours ago
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I’ve read your recent post like six times but I still can’t wrap my head around it. There are masses for Franco? MASSES?
I know the Catholic Church can be a real mess, but how on Earth is this allowed? Isn’t there a bishop or someone at the Vatican that can stop this?
How do all the various communities let these gatherings and masses happen?
I’m Italian and Irish, so the lose equivalent of this Franco worship would be gatherings and masses for Mussolini and Cromwell, which I could never see happening. There would be a revolts in the streets! I mean sure, there’s always a handful of fascist ass lickers in every community, but usually it’s not blatant and their actions aren’t accepted let alone celebrated?
What is the general education regarding Franco like in Spain? Is there a lot of revisionist theory trying to paint him out to be something other than a psychopathic murderer?
Sorry if these questions are stupid, I’m just shocked this is like a normal and widespread thing. I’ve been to Spain once, and I guess I missed this aspect of the culture?
Kaixo anon!
They're not stupid questions, and I'll try my best to answer in an understandable way.
I'm sorry you're shocked about the masses thing, but it becomes a bit less weird if you take into account that one of the keys to the success of Franco's regime was Catholicism and the Catholic Church. Not for nothing his political ideas were called "national-Catholicism". The Church gave its full support to Franco and the dictatorship, and worked hard indoctrinating people to first accept and then passionately defend it. We can't understand Francoism without the Catholic religion.
You ask why this is allowed. Easy!! I'm not sure how Christian masses work in other parts of the world, but in Spain and EH, you pay and the church delivers: it can be a mention of the name of a deceased person the family wants to honor on the Sunday mass, or a full mass for said person any day you want. That's why there are masses for Franco eeeeeeeevery Nov 20. Because somebody - Franco Foundation, fascist associations or parties, just somebody - pays for them to exist. Of course the Catholic church defends it's just a mass of remembrance for a deceased person and not a glorification of a fascist dictator. Okay, if they say so.
Just this year there have been 18 masses throughout the Spanish state: in Madrid, Valladolid, Zaragoza, Málaga, Toledo, Alicante, Santander, Granada, Uesca, València, Zamora, Ceuta, Teruel, Sevilla, and Santa Cruz de Tenerife.
I'd like to think that Francoism isn't part of the Spanish culture as you mention, but sadly 40 years of a fascist dictatorship do some things to people. 40 years of lefties escaping the country or being executed, 40 years of brainwashing, 40 years of turbo Catholic fascism. You don't leave all that behind just overnight. There are still monuments to the dictator or the coup (Crusade, in fascist language), streets devoted to fascist elite members and criminals, and the f*cking king is the son of the king Franco personally chose for the Spanish state. There are Francoism remnants in every single Spanish institution, from the Congress to the Supreme Court (especially there). Everything is still tainted by Franco, his political ideas, and his corrupt political ways, even now, yes. Franco himself said the infamous words maaaany still remember: everything is tied and tied well. He meant that everything was throughly planned and established to function as he wanted when he passed. And it really was tied well.
So it may be not blatant for anyone visiting, but it's there, and it's definitely apparent. There's this sociological Francoism that was somewhat hidden from the 90s to the 10s, but now with the rise of the far right / neonazi movements has taken the mask off and fascists are calling themselves fascists with pride. There have always been some nostalgic people that were considered fanatic freaks up until now, but now they're more and more since very young men - mainly - are joining them.
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edledamianfan · 15 hours ago
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Ride homes late at night sure is a feeling, especially on a high way going at a fast speed on the way home. Looking at the window and u see the whole city below you. The lights and everything, it's just a feeling, fleeting moment that last with u for a lifetime.
I wonder that's what dick felt when he was Robin on the Batmobile. Every single night on the same roads, highways, going out, going back back after fighting crimes.
But there is something missing here.
Having music playing would've been nicer.
It would distract him from his thoughts.
Bats doesn't really do music ... but it doesn't hurt to ask. Well he did say no at first but after dick mentioning his thoughts about his parents and stuff. He reconsidered and ends up approving it.
Spooky decides picks the music until he realised he know nothing about today's music. So it look him a while until he found a playlist he seemed to find nice.
So the next time they're in the Batmobile, when the coast is clear and the night is saved and all they gotta do now is head home. Bats plugs in the USB for the songs and plays them.
Dick knows some of these songs. It's pretty popular in his time and there are some songs that he's not familiar with. But it gets him away from his thoughts so it's somewhat worked. He'll have to listen to it as this now their daily playlist.
The USB then stays there for a while even when dick is no longer here with Bruce, out doing his own thing. He didn't want to remove it.
And then a new Robin comes along. Jason asking what is that USB and Bats offers him if he wants to hear the playlist. He said yeah ofc.
1 min in he's thought to himself that Bats listens to popular songs, although these are kind of old. I guess he's somewhat the same like everyone.
And then Jason died.
USB was not touched again for a while until tim came along. Batman was pretty much on edge during this time, although curious about the USB Tim decides not to pry on it - directly to the man. Instead he sneak in back to the Batmobile during bed time just to see what's the USB is about. And then caught by Bruce himself.
Well he was mad at first but after realizing he was just curious what is in the plugged USB. Bruce decides to just show it for himself what it is about. Tim was definitely not expecting it to be a playlist. Bruce then asks if he wants to play this playlist. Tim just rolls with it.
Then Stephanie came along. She was pretty much straightforward asking what was in the USB. But Bruce was real defensive about it for some reason so Stephanie just shrinked back. He then realized his mistake and offers if she wants to hear the playlist. She happily accepts.
This time Bruce died.
Dick is now stuck with a kid he is not sure on how to handle. Stuck back in Gotham. Stuck in the costume he was trying to get away from.
He wasn't sure on how to do anything but he needs to do so anyways because he's the only one who can do it. This that happens and so the new dynamic duo was formed.
They then got in the Batmobile. And there Grayson is greeted again by that familiar USB. He thought he forgot, Bruce had changed Batmobiles a couple of time and with all that is happening he didn't think that he would remember to bring the inessential USB playlist into the new ride everytime.
He felt his warm all the same again.
Maybe a bit emotional.
But it maybe the inessential USB playlist gave him all the motivation and courage he needed at that moment.
He then stepped on the gas, drive out of the cave.
Into the night.
End note:
This was my playlist I was thinking about. U can check it out if u want! These are most of the songs I remembered that used to be on the car USB. Uhhh this ended up being longer than I thought I was gonna do like a short silly idea but hi if u reached the end 😅
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mullet-stan101 · 2 days ago
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Werewolf Stan x Reader
Chapter 2, tw: just some mentions of physical pain and transformation (might elaborate more in further chapters)
It’s been a month since Stan was bit and three weeks since he fell sick from the bite. Ford hasn’t been able to do anything but keep him comfortable while he waits for the inevitable. Y/n on the other hand, doesn’t look at it so technically…she sympathizes with Stan as she can tell he’s obviously been through something rough.
Stan blinks and rubs his eyes as he wakes in the morning. Light filters in despite the thick private curtains in Ford’s spare room, and he looks around in confusion. He doesn’t recognize the house at all, he doesn’t even remember how he got here.
“Geesh what happened…”
He rubs his shoulder and his head snaps back as that makes him remember, but he’s surprised to see nothing but skin. Despite being tired and confused…he feels amazing. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and gets up slowly.
“Stanford…?”
Y/n glances up from the kitchen as she hears him, and he walks in. He does look a lot better…now that he’s not covered in grime and blood she can definitely tell that they’re twins, even with the weight and hair difference.
“Hi…you hungry?”
Stan glances up a little surprised but he remembers, smiling a little sheepishly as he’s just in his wife beater and boxers. 
“Yeah…starved. Where’s Ford?”
She shrugs as she cracks some eggs into a pan and starts to scramble them, dressed in a sweatshirt and pajama pants. 
“Down in the lab as usual…he barely ever comes out.”
Stan nods slowly and sits down. He checks her out a little from behind, she’s very pretty. He’s surprised that Ford landed her.
“Uh…thanks for convincing him to let me stay…”
He trails off as he never caught her name and she smiles softly.
“Y/n.”
“Y/n…well- I’m Stanley, call me Stan though. So…how’d you and ol’ sixer get together?”
She blinks and then chuckles as she realizes what he means. 
“Together? Oh gosh no...at least- not now.”
She hesitates a little as she doesn’t want to admit that she hoped for that at first, but Ford has changed since college.
“I just work for him, all of his projects and stuff y’know?’
“So you’re a nerd too, huh?”
She laughs softly and slides him a plate of scrambled eggs.
“Pretty much- but a different type I guess. Ford is the chemistry and supernatural nerd, I’m just the engineer. And a little animal fascination I guess.”
Stan nods and smiles softly, eating the eggs and thanking you. You both eat breakfast quietly until Ford comes back upstairs, looking a little frazzled and sleep-deprived. Seeing Stan up and better would usually make him relieved but this makes him even more nervous. He walks over and without hesitation pries his mouth open and shines a light in his eyes.
“Hey-! What the heck??”
Ford huffs as he reluctantly moves back out of Stan’s personal space, Stan rubbing his jaw with a glare as he’d just been grabbed like a lab rat. 
“You look completely healthy…I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Stan frowns at this in confusion. 
“Wait and see what?” 
Ford scoffs as he opens the fridge. 
“This doesn’t concern either of you? Your bite healed a day after you were bit, you’ve just been sick for nearly a month. Today is a full moon, does that ring a bell?”
Stan scoffs and nearly chuckles at how crazy that sounds. 
“You’ve been reading too much monster junk, Sixer. If you’re about to tell me I’m a werewolf you’re wrong…and nuts.” 
“What bit you huh, Stanley? I bet you’ll say a big dog won’t you?”
Stan smirks as his mouth opens to retort but he closes it as Ford says that last statement. 
“Uh- yeah…that’s what it looked like to me.”
Ford shakes his head with a sigh, taking a swig of coffee as he adjusts his glasses. 
“Just as I thought…you need to stay here tonight…maybe from now on.”
“What?? Like some kinda lab rat, no thanks. I just needed you to fix me up and you did, now just a couple days to get back on my feet and I’ll be fine.”
Y/n frowns softly as she looks at him. 
“Ford’s right Stanley…I didn’t believe him at first, but this can’t be a coincidence.”
Stan frowns at this, thinking she was on his side and he shakes his head with a scoff.
“I can’t even believe this- I’m stayin’ for a bit anyways but no more prying my mouth open, ok?”
Ford nods and leaves Stan alone, and y/n eventually follows as she goes to help him. Stan is left alone in the kitchen and once they’re gone he can’t help but think about what they said, and he hates to admit that it scares him. 
***
That evening he’s internally on edge whereas Ford doesn’t hide it at all. He preps one of his spare rooms and gets y/n to help him secure it. Stan watches quietly from the couch, his brow knit in worry…he watches y/n and he can’t help but admire her skillful nature compared to his brother’s smarts. The sun begins to set and they finish, Ford anxious as he fiddles around with his equipment and y/n notices how anxious Stan is, sitting next to him quietly.
“I know you’re probably nervous…”
Stan scoffs and chuckles, attempting to hide it. 
“Me? Nervous? Hell, I've fought off prison guards and gang members, I’ll be fine.”
She frowns a little, her eyes soft as she can see right through it. 
“Well if you are nervous don’t worry, you may have to go through it tonight, but Ford’s smart. If anyone could figure out the cure to lycanthropy it’d be him.”
“You’re sure…?”
She smiles softly and nods, to which Stan lets his cocky look fall, looking a little nervous.
“It’s the suspense…if it’s really going to happen I’m gonna feel it. Why the hell is this happening?? This isn’t supposed to be real!”
“I-I really don’t know…it’s something about this place. I’ve never seen anything like it before either.”
Stan sighs and he looks at her, his brown eyes more worried and scared than when he was even sick. The night gets later and he gets progressively more nervous, Ford eventually pushes him to go into the room and he does. The two sit outside his room anxiously as the moon begins to rise, and Stan sits inside, watching and waiting for what feels like his impending doom. His breathing grows shallow as his hands begin to shake and he clamps them in his lap.
“This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening…chill out, Stan c’mon-”
He groans as a deep ache ripples down his spine and he leans forward with a gasp. Slowly his body begins to swell and contort as he whimpers in pain and fear. 
“N-no…no…” 
He yelps in pain as it shocks through his system, his body contorting and growing as he can’t deny it anymore. Y/n’s head snaps up as she hears the sounds in the room and she looks to Ford who is trying to stay stern. She flinches as there’s a thump and whimpers and growls before it goes completely silent. The two sit there in silence for a few minutes, before the sound of low whimpering seeps into the living room. Her heart clenches hearing this, despite the idea of a werewolf being one room over, she can’t help but feel bad for Stan.
“Ford…we’re not just going to sit here are we?”
Ford glances up with a frown.
“Well yes- we can’t risk anything, even if it’s my brother.” 
Her brow furrows in concern and she scoffs as she steps towards the door.
“How do we expect to help him if you don’t even want to see him like this? You’ll risk your life to go hunt some random crap in the woods but not to help your brother? I’m gonna check on him.”
Ford’s eyes widen as she goes to unlock the door and he stands up quickly to grab her hand. 
“No! Are you crazy? A werewolf is a werewolf! Stan or not-”
She opens the door slowly and stiffens, in the dark of the small room a pair of yellow eyes stare back at her, an enormous wolf. 
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chlorinecake · 2 months ago
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A SUCKER FOR THE TASTE ✦— 𝐋.𝐇𝐒
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▹ PAIRING — experienced husband heeseung x virgin f. reader
▹ GENRE — smut, fluff, newlyweds au
▹ SYNOPSIS — As teens, you were the uncanny duo that fell in love at first sight. Some odd years later, and you’re now a newlywed couple, spending your first night together in a fit of nerves as you navigate sex and other new feelings…
▹ WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL, basically just pussy drunk!husband!heeseung making you squirt for hours on the night of your honeymoon, marriage themes (duh), mentions of food, dom and sub dynamics, kissing with tongue, overstimulation kink (reader cums multiple times), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, petnames (baby, angel, pretty, sweetie), that’s all
▹ WORD COUNT: 3.3k — DAY 1
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YOU AND HEESEUNG were like Romeo and Juliet; two people from totally different walks of life, and honestly, no one ever would’ve guessed you two’d end up falling for each other.
Sometimes, it’s hard to tell any time had passed between the first moment you met Heeseung with a hickey on his neck in the lunch hall to now as you sit before him on a king sized bed, ring fingers clad with beautiful bands to match as you stared into each others eyes, speaking a love song of unspoken words.
“You’re fine with waiting til marriage?” You remember asking him a few weeks after you first started dating as teens, “you won’t think I’m a prude for wanting to keep things traditional?…”
“Of course not, sweetie,” you remember him answering while cupping your face in his hands, “a girl like you is worth the wait—” He whispered in between kissing your lips, “—and so much more…”
Since that moment, you and Heeseung have stuck to your guns, not even so much as showering together to keep your purity intact until the right moment…
… That fateful day when you’d say “I do” and he the same, right before venturing off into the sunset on angel’s wings to explore another country together.
Another life, might I add, as a married couple on your extravagant honeymoon…
Everything was so magical in your head, too… but regardless of that, Heeseung was too big of a fucking dork to let himself be romantic for once.
Just an hour ago, he had told the hotel receptionist “you too” after she congratulated you both on getting married—
“Grrrrrrrrr,” he pouted, scrunching his nose at you.
“Did you just… growl at me!?”
“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you keep resisting,” Heeseung threatened playfully, pointing an accusing finger at your frame now.
Sighing, you raised your hands beside your head as a sign of compliance, parting your lips slightly as you held your head back for him.
“Alright, don't move this time, alright? We can do this!” He ordered more passionately this time, cradling a single grape between his fingers before angling his wrist backwards and launching it towards your mouth.
“Oh my gosh, I finally caught it!” You shouted with excitement, words coming out a bit slurred as you bit down into the sweet fruit, “Tastes like victory,” you continued, making Heeseung grace you with his thundering ovation.
“Brava!” He began to cheer, but the rest of his sentence was interrupted by his own burp, which only elicited a fit of embarrassed giggles from the both of you…
Two empty glasses of wine sat on the hotel nightstand beside the bed you were currently sat on, and if it wasn't obvious enough, y'all were already starting to experience the giddy effects of the alcohol dancing in your systems.
“So,” you smiled, a laugh still present in your throat as you fed him a white grape from the bowl between you two, “we're the couple that eats pie in place of dinner now?”
“Sure... but not just any pie,” Heeseung corrected, leaning closer to your ear as he whispered, “blueeeberry pieeee.”
You're not sure if it was the wine or the honeymoon high, but you can't help yourself from laughing out loud at Heeseung's behavior in this moment—
“You’re a legend for always vibing with my horrible sense of humor, y’know that?” Your husband remarked while tilting his head at you endearingly.
“Your humor is definitely one-of-a-kind, but I wouldn't want you to change a thing about it,” you returned tenderly, right before feeding him a fork-full of blueberry pie from the dish between you two, feeling your heart swell as he smiled into the bite.
The kind of smile you’d have a hard time getting out of your mind later—
“Thanks, babe,” he said, a bit of dark blue jam resting in the corner of his mouth now as his eyes sparkled with what you could bet was pure flattery.
You always liked it whenever you managed to get Heeseung all flustered before you, considering how he was usually the one to make you a blushing mess with only his words.
“You've uh...” you stammer slightly, “you've got a little something on your lip there...”
“Really?”
“Yea, just... let me get it for you real quick,” you continue, licking the pad of your thumb before leaning forward to dab at the jam on his mouth.
That's when you noticed his lips curving into a subtle smirk as he whispered in a low voice, “You got it, baby?”
“Y-yea,” you stuttered again, feeling your face heat up at his words, and if you didn't look so hot to him right now, he would've pinched your cheeks—
“Whoops,” Heeseung gasped facetiously, pouting at the streak of blueberry jam he very intentionally just smeared on your lower lip, “must be the wine making me so clumsy today...”
Your eye almost twitched at the sight of him licking his finger clean, a rush of nerves swarming in your stomach now
“I-it's okay, Heeseung,” you said while lifting your thumb to your mouth, “I've got it...”
“No you don't,” he chuckled at your shy demeanor, right before closing the space between you two, taking your face in his hand and kissing you.
And yes, you saw this coming, but it took you a few seconds to fully close your eyes, letting them flutter shut as you both sighed at the taste of each other, almost as if the contact relaxed you…
The kiss was slow at first, with you and him simply breathing against each other’s mouths as his velvety lips moved against yours.
But that pace didn't last long once Heeseung broke from the kiss to move the bowl of grapes and pie out of the way, a few of the glossy green ovals hitting the ground with light thuds as his right hand found the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him.
The kiss grew more intense from there as both your heads were tilting into each other, wet smacks filling the room now as his tongue prodded against yours with every passing second.
“God, you taste so sweet,” Heeseung groaned, desperately clinging to your waist which only made you moan in response.
You and Heeseung had made out countless times in the past, but you could tell something was different this time... you never felt this worked up with him before, and you knew it wasn’t just gonna end with a kiss—
“Can’t wait to taste other parts of you, too, baby…” he hummed, kissing along your neck while pinning your delicate wrists above your head.
And that’s when you felt it…
The twitch between your legs and the heat rushing throughout your entire body…
You were wearing a plaid pajama skirt and white top that matched Heeseung’s plaid sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, as you simply expected to only eat some dessert, discuss the rest of your honeymoon plans, and head straight to sleep right after.
Now though, you knew you wouldn't be able to get much rest with your emotions like this… at least not comfortably, that is…
You’re between his lap at first until he guides you onto your back, kissing down your neck, between your breasts, and down your stomach as he lifts your top, stopping at the waist band of your skirt given the way your body tensed up suddenly.
“Is everything alright?” He asked softly, glancing back up at you with a swollen look to his pouty lips, given all the kissing they had just done.
You knew what was happening right now..
Heeseung was doing exactly what you had asked him to do, and as much as your body craved it, your mind kept fighting it for some reason…
FLASHBACK —
“Just… don’t make it too… formal, okay?”
“Formal?” Heeseung repeated with a slight chuckle as you sat beside each other on the plane that morning.
“Well, yea… I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it—”
“But it is a big deal, baby,” he cut you off by placing his hand over yours. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this, y’know?… Not just to have sex but—” he leaned closer to you as he whispered this in your ear, “—to make each other feel good… in all kinds of ways…”
His breath tickled your ear in that moment… similarly to how his lips were tickling you now as you laid before him on the mattress, his head hovering over the space between your thighs.
“We don’t have to go any further until you’re ready, love—”
“I’m ready, Heeseung,” you said while nodding, but he waited to continue, knowing in his heart that there was still something you needed to get off your chest.
He backed away, pulling your shirt back over your stomach and sitting on the bed normally now.
“Heeseung,” you said again, drawing his sparkly doe eyes back to you.
“I’m listening, love,” is all he replied with, offering you a warm smile, “what’s on your mind?”
What’s in the way? You internally asked yourself right after, knowing deep down that you had no reason to feel so nervous with him right now…
Heeseung had never alienated you because of your inexperience with sex before, and was always very understanding of your moral and sexual boundaries.
But now, things were different; you were a married couple, and one of the many perks of that was being able to explore each others body in a comfortable way…
Turns out though, it was all just your own insecurities clouding your judgment, and you hated that you couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in your stomach…
“It’s just that,” you started nervously, fidgeting with your manicured nails, “I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Yeah, I know,” your husband nodded sarcastically, trying his best to resist the urge to kiss you again—
“And…well, you have a lot more experience than me with this kind of thing,” you continued, lowering your head.
“So what?”
“What if I don’t meet your expectations?…”
“Expectations? What do you mean, ____?”
“Well, you’ve been with a lot of other girls and what if I’m not as good as them? What if you don’t like sex with me?…”
Heeseung’s heart would’ve otherwise dropped at your words, but instead, he smiled softly, taking your chin in his hand and lifting your head towards him. “You’re nothing like those girls I was with in the past, ____, and that’s my favorite part about you,”
You looked into his eyes as he continued, “I’ll be happy with whatever happens tonight. You wanna know why? Because I did it with you, and I love you with my everything, princess…”
“I love you too, Heeseung,” you replied meekly, flashing him a soft smile as he kissed your cheek.
“No expectations tonight, then… okay, baby? I just wanna please you,” he whispered, slowly guiding your body back down against the mattress with a secure hand. “I wanna make you feel so good,” he continued, placing another kiss to the center of your lips. 
Heeseung started by letting his plush lips wander all over your body again, lifting your shirt up once more to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach.
“You're so beautiful,” he murmured with warm breath against your skin, caressing your inner thighs with his hands until you naturally craned them open, inviting him to your pulsing core.
Your breath hitched once you felt his nose burry between your clothed folds, but your little sounds only excited him even further, and he wasted no time in removing your panties completely now.
“Heeseung,” you whined, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he spat on your cunt, toying with the moisture there using his middle and index finger.
“Just relax for me, angel,” your husband cooed with a soothing tone, and you're not sure if it was the alcohol or the petname he just called you in his bedroom voice, but your head was starting to feel very dizzy.
And if you weren't so horny, you would've felt bashful in front of him like this... half-naked, and trembling when he's hardly even touched you yet.
The coldness of his wedding band against the warm flesh of your thigh sent shivers down your spine, and he wasted no time in inviting his fingers into your sopping hole, one at a time until your walls practically sucked him in.
He then started to leave kitten licks against your sensitive bud, complimenting the pace by pumping his wrist towards your pelvis with his digits still exploring the gummy walls of your cunt.
Admittedly, you had tried fingering yourself in the past, but it never felt as good as the way Heeseung worked wonders inside you right now, but you still needed something...
Something to hold onto… something to grab, and Heeseung could immediately tell once your nails started weakly nipping at the bed sheets, your pussy throbbing more and more—
“Hee,” you moaned, feeling his fingers curl deeper and deeper inside your tight cunt, “need to touch you so bad...”
“Yea? Wanna hold my hand, pretty?”
All you can manage to do is nod desperately, making him chuckle slightly at your neediness.
“If you hold my hands, I need you to promise to keep your legs open for me on your own... can you do that for me, love?”
“Y-yes,” you stammered, and with that, Heeseung got to work on licking your slick from his fingers before finding your hands in his.
But your core was already missing the stimulation, making your hips rise up and down as if thin air would provide enough friction to ease your craving.
And that's when he licked his first stripe up the center of your pussy, and you're sure your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sensation.
It didn't take long for the pleasure to escalate from there, either.
His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked you in like a starved out man. His tongue was applying pressure in all the best ways before sinking into your hole, filling you up just enough to have you arching your back on the bed.
You felt your first orgasm wash over you, but you knew your husband had no intention of stopping so soon.
You were mewling beneath him at the overstimulation, thankful that he at least slowed down the pace of his tongue, even though he was still very earnestly slurping at your juices…
“Could eat this pussy for hours, princess… you’re just too delicious…” he groaned, and you felt the bed shaking from the way he was rutting his crotch against the mattress, furrowing his eyebrows as his kept eating you out.
“Come on baby, let me hear you,” Heeseung practically begged, his tone sounding so hoarse, so drunk as the vibrations from his voice only tantalized you even further, “tell me how good it feels...”
“F-feels s-so fucking good, baby,” you moaned, words coming out in fragments given how cloudy your brain was becoming, and you're pretty sure you had your second or third orgasm shortly after as your hands squeezed his, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
His tongue was licking between your folds so well, the textured muscle making your skin tingle all over but in the best way imaginable.
Heeseung didn't plan on any of this to happening, which is why it felt so good in the first place. It was natural, raw, and so so messy…
Your own cum was dripping all over his chin and lips, and he was loving every single second of it.
He was obsessed with it. The way your clit throbbed against his lips, the way you squirted your juices all over his face, the way your thighs squirmed while struggling to stay open, and your angelically desperate cries of pleasure as he drew out orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.
He wished he could watch your face contort with need as he fucked you with his face and tongue, but he couldn't look back up at you no matter how hard he tried… He had to keep his face buried between you…
Your strength eventually gave out and your grip released his hands that soon found one of your tits, gripping the mound of flesh in a way that only drew you even further over the edge.
Your hips had even developed a mind of their own, humping against his face like a bunny in heat as he whispered filthy nothings against your cunt, as well as sweet somethings that you'd hear for the next hour or two that Heesueng spent with his pointy nose brushing against your clit.
“You're so fucking wet for me, angel...”
“Love it when you come all over my face.”
“Pull my hair, baby... harder than that...”
“So so beautiful, and just for me.”
“Keep those pretty thighs open just like that, baby…”
“You taste so fucking divine...”
“Please don't tell me to stop... just one more, baby... I know you've got it in you...”
He found just as much enjoyment being between your thighs as you did in having him there, making you cream on his tongue again and again until you finally hiccuped the words, “N-no more, Hee... p-please, I can't t-take anymore...”
But your begging only made Heeseung even greedier, letting his fingers find your clit where he applied enough pressure and stimulation to break that last orgasm out of you, leaving you a shaking mess as he kissed you down, harder than a bullet in his own pants from getting to see you like this so many times and for so long in just one evening.
A series of shaky whimpers filled the room now as your husband crawled back over you, kissing you with his swollen lips while caressing the side of your fucked-out face. “You did so good for me, baby... especially on your first night...”
“Th-thank you,” you said with a weak chuckle, still feeling your orgasms fresh in your hips and thighs as he kept soothing you with his touch, your breath shaky in your chest after hours of coming undone with him…
That's when he moved over to lay beside you, and your eyes almost immediately caught sight of the thick bulge resting behind his pants, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad now given how he didn’t get much action the whole time.
“Do you want me to...” you started timidly, moving your hand to touch him up til he stopped you.
“Not tonight... we can have fun with that tomorrow,” Heeseung smiled, making you giggle again as he changed his position to make the bulge less noticeable, “for now though, let's focus on getting you cleaned up... sound good?”
“Better than good,” you replied tenderly, kissing him on the cheek before he got up from the bed and headed toward the hotel bathroom where he planned to run you a nice warm bath.
“Wait!” Your husband called out suddenly, just as he caught you trying to get out of the bed on your own.
Running over, a confused look remained on your face as he picked you up from the mattress bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.
“I didn't forget how to walk, Heeseung,” you giggled, keeping your hands secure at his shoulder as he cradled you into the tub.
“I know,” he laughed, helping you get your top off and over your head as the water ran in the background, “I just didn't want my precious wife accidentally stepping on any of those grapes I dropped earlier...”
It went without saying that Heeseung had always been a loser, but he was your loser, and that fact alone was the bandaid that covered up every preconceived notion of him you ever created in the back of your mind…
You didn’t see him the way other people saw him… as the former man whore, troublemaker, or hopeless goof from high school, ‘destined’ to never change…
You saw him as the adorable nerd who accepted you for the things you saw as flaws… as the guy who still wore character themed PJ’s every once in a while that you now get to call “Hubby,” “lovey,” and “mine…”
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⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who read this little fic of mine, which actually concludes DAY 1 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!
⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:
@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash
@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl
@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr
⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:
@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs
@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij
@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess
@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier
@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings
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cherienymphe · 3 months ago
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White Lines & White Knights
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Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, pr*stitution, power imbalance, classism, mentions of death, jealousy, humiliation, revenge p*rn, drug dealer!Rafe, drug use, Pogue!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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summary: You and Rafe are using each other until you decide that's not what you want anymore, and the spoiled rich kid will do whatever it takes to have his expensive toy back in his bed.
Your door shut behind you with a resounding click, and once in the comfort of your home, you took the time to decompress. You took advantage of your much needed reprieve, the back of your head grazing the wood as you allowed your eyes to fall closed. Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, and you wondered if a day would come where it ever wouldn’t. After all, this wasn’t exactly “new” anymore…
It had been five months since you buried your mom, five months since you discovered the mountain of debt she’d done an impressive job of hiding from you, and five months since you thought you’d be homeless on the street in less than one. In two weeks, you’d dealt with a loss you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another forty years or so and took on the kind of responsibility you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another three.
Your mom died 152 days ago…
…and you’d started fucking Rafe Cameron less than a month later.
You liked to pretend to not know why you slept with Kildare’s prime rich boy that fateful Saturday night, but you were far more self aware than you wanted to be. Even if you weren’t, it wasn’t exactly some mysterious string of decisions that lead to being tangled up in the sheets with Sarah’s asshole of an older brother. You didn’t need to pay someone to diagnose you.
You were grieving.
It was really just that simple, and the monetary stress on top of that drove you to find comfort in strange drinks and hard drugs. To this day you still didn’t know if Rafe just happened to be at the right place at the right time or if he heard whispers about John B.’s best friend snorting pills and getting shit faced when her usual crowd was looking the other way, but either way, the stuffy Kook clearly saw an opportunity to kill several birds with one stone.
“First two lines are free,” he’d told you that night, the bass of the music downstairs muffled by the expensive walls of some girl’s house.
You remembered how you’d chuckled, drunkenly shaking your head.
“Well, two lines is all I’m doing, I guess,” you’d murmured, throwing your hands up.
Rafe’s smirk had been cruel, a mocking glint in his blue eyes.
“What?” he’d dragged out, head tilted. “Spent all that life insurance money, already?”
Any other time and Rafe’s insensitivity might’ve upset you, but at the time you’d been drunk out of your mind and looking for more ways to forget the sudden absence in your life.
“I can’t imagine why Sarah hates you,” you’d sarcastically replied, approaching the impressive desk and leaning over to inhale a line.
You wiped your nose as you straightened, lashes fluttering as you ignored the feeling of Rafe’s gaze on you.
“I’ll be lucky if I even have a house to live in next week.”
The words had come out slurred, accompanied by a light chuckle, and deep down you’d felt the flutter of stress that you’d been desperately ignoring for weeks. You’d quickly snorted the other line, closing your eyes for a moment.
“Turns out my mom was skilled at hiding more than just illnesses…”
You remembered the silence—from both you and Rafe—and how in that moment you’d allowed yourself a solid four seconds of lingering on the reality of your predicament. In those four seconds, your eyes had watered and your lips had trembled and your throat had tightened, and after those four seconds, you were turning to Rafe with a haughty smile.
“Guess you won’t be finding a new client in me, huh?” you’d wondered with a shrug, finding a seat on the desk.
Rafe’s blue gaze had been unreadable as he eyed you, sitting in the chair at the desk, legs spread as he ran his eyes over you—slowly and in a way you didn’t hate at the time. You hadn’t been able to tell what he was thinking, although looking back, you wondered how it wasn’t so obvious to you then. Maybe because it was just too cruel of a thought, and while it was no secret Rafe was a spoiled asshole, you had never once thought of him as cruel.
Rafe had merely shrugged.
“There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” he’d slowly said, the corner of his pink lips curving upwards just a tad. “Besides…”
You’d watched him stand, rounding the desk to come and tower over you where you sat.
“I like to think of myself as a pretty ethical kind of guy…”
You’d started to snort at that before his gaze met yours again, and you found yourself swallowing whatever you were about to say. You hadn’t done a thing when Rafe reached up to touch your arm, the feel of his finger so light. You hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the way your heart skipped a beat at both his close proximity and the change in atmosphere. You hadn’t been able to ignore—however—the heat that settled in the pit of your stomach.
“...and I’ve been known to meet people halfway. Accept whatever they can offer…”
You remembered your internal conflict that night.
You’d been drunk and high and sad…not stupid. You knew exactly what Rafe was insinuating to you, and you’d struggled with the idea of really sleeping with Rafe Cameron for more drugs. The man was far from unattractive, sure that if drugs weren’t involved you’d still consider sleeping with him. If you’d believed in any of that, you’d imagine that your mom was turning over in her grave. At the time though, you hadn’t been quite sure as to what you believed in, so when he took your silence for consent, leaning in and touching your nose with his…
You hadn’t stopped him when he closed the distance.
You hadn’t even known whose house you were at, only internally apologizing to them for having sex on their expensive desk. You didn’t know if it was the drugs or the alcohol or simply Rafe Cameron, but it was easily the best sex you’d ever had in your life, and at one point you’d really considered how much better it could possibly be to fuck him without the condom.
You had no idea that you’d eventually find out.
Once dressed, you’d walked home with a small bag of pills and a satisfied grin. You knew that your friends would host some kind of intervention if they ever found out, but all you’d been able to focus on was the simple fact that fucking Rafe Cameron for a little coke and pills wasn’t sounding like the worst idea. Of course, if you’d known that you’d eventually start fucking him for your livelihood, you might’ve made different choices that night.
You pressed your hand to your face and pushed away from the door, eager to start the shower and scrub the stench of him off of you. Per routine, you took the money out of your pocket before getting undressed, eyeing the wad of one hundreds that now sat on your nightstand. Two grand was nothing to someone like him, but to someone like you, it made all the difference in the world.
…and Rafe knew that.
He’d known that when he handed you a thousand dollars one night, the coke in your system just starting to hit. You’d looked up at him from where you sat in confusion, hesitantly wrapping your hand around the money as you alternated between eyeing it and eyeing him. You hadn’t known how to feel about it, especially since it had only been moments ago when he was inside of you…and there he was handing you a grand in hundreds.
“Don’t look like that,” Rafe had chuckled, walking to his dresser in search of a shirt. “You know you need the money.”
He wasn’t wrong…and that was the problem.
Unless you hit a lucky streak in life, you’d always need the money, and that was exactly why you were in the predicament you were in—four months later and putting up with the monster that was Rafe Cameron just to keep a roof over your head. The thought brought tears to your eyes, positive now that your mom could see you and was beyond disappointed in you. 
Her disappointment could only be outdone by your own.
You were in a situation that you couldn’t get out of, on the verge of ending this arrangement so many times before asking yourself what better way could you pay your mom’s debts and survive? It wasn’t easy money by far, but it was fast money, and it was the kind of money that would take months to make at whatever low paying job you’d find around Outer Banks. Someone like you rarely got hired at the country club or working for some rich snob who wiped their ass with the kind of money you needed.
Rafe knew this too.
Tears kissed your eyes as you scrubbed your skin raw, wishing that you could scrub away the nasty bruise right along with the sweat and grime. You winced every time you touched it, cursing the blond and feeling one of those moments where you considered blocking him and moving on from this pathetic era in your life for good.
Fucking Rafe Cameron for drugs didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time, fucking him for money seemed like an even better one…until that entitled attitude started to extend to the woman he was paying good money to have access to. You remembered the first time you opposed something he wanted to do, the way in which he ignored you, the way he merely pressed your face into the pillow to shut you up.
It was the first time you felt truly icky about this whole situation.
Not even just icky.
…but afraid.
“I don’t pay you to tell me what you will and won’t do in bed,” he’d chuckled at you like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
You’d still been trembling and wiping mascara from your cheeks.
“I pay you because I want to fuck you,” he’d slowly whispered to you, leaning in. “...and you let me because you don’t want to be sleeping on the beach.”
He’d held your gaze for what felt like too long, impressing upon you the true dynamic of this arrangement, and you remembered the unease that had festered in your gut that day. Maybe all the drugs and alcohol hadn’t allowed you to fully look at this arrangement for what it was and the power imbalance here, but you had for the first time that day, and you hadn’t liked it.
You liked it even less now, wrapping the towel around you and wondering how you were ever going to get out of this predicament you’d put yourself into.
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“My family’s going out of town for the weekend,” the familiar blond mumbled to you as he inhaled a familiar powdery substance off the back of his hand. “Pack a bag when you get home, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at that, huffing instead.
“I can’t spend the whole weekend on Figure 8,” you told him. “I have plans.”
Rafe nodded, and you hated the smile that danced across his lips.
“Okay, uh, be ready at 8, I don’t want-.”
“Rafe, I’m serious,” you cut him off, shrugging. “I can’t stay at your house all weekend.”
You watched him watch you, slowly swiping his tongue between his lips as a frown started to take over. His dirty blond hair kissed his brows, and the longer the silence stretched, the more nervous you grew. You watched as Rafe glanced away, seemingly deep in thought before those baby blues of his rested on you, much colder than they were a few seconds ago.
“What the hell am I paying you for?” he whispered.
The question was rhetorical, and you swallowed.
“Rafe…I’ve barely seen my friends in months. I finally made plans to meet up with them for more than five minutes and-.”
“...and whose fault is that?” he shrugged.
You frowned at him.
“Nobody told you to go off on a bender when your mom kicked the bucket…” you blinked at his callousness. “Maybe you should’ve been finding comfort in your friends instead of drugs and vodka…and me.”
He finished his sentence with a soft—and yet cruel—smile.
“I pay you good money—great money even!—to be available when I want you to be, and unless you’ve found some other rich asshole to open your legs for, which I doubt…be ready tomorrow at 8.”
He was standing, now, looking down at you where you sat on the bed. The harsh reminder of your roles here had you looking away, and Rafe turned away when he rightfully took your silence as confirmation. You stared at the wall for a few moments before turning to stare at his back, thinking to yourself that this couldn’t go on much longer. Whether it took 1 or 5 jobs, you couldn’t keep relying on Rafe Cameron forever.
What was once a weekly occurrence had turned into something entirely other, and it hadn’t bothered you so much when your mother’s death was still so fresh and you were seeking solace in the worst coping mechanisms known to man—including isolation. Now, however, you were waking up to the choices you’d made and you hated the feeling of being inebriated and being surrounded by people you barely knew.
You hated being away from your friends.
“I didn’t even know you’d gotten a job,” John B. said to you hours later, looking disappointed but understanding. “JJ’s gonna be real disappointed. He’s been talking all week about having you try some new weed he got.”
You gave a light laugh at that, a pang in your chest at how much you missed doing stupid shit with them.
“Yeah,” you sadly said. “The world—and bills—doesn’t stop just because my mom died.”
The brunette grew quiet at that, worriedly eyeing you now.
“You doing okay…?”
You sighed at that, looking out over the yard of The Chateau, fiddling with your fingers as you thought of a certain blond.
“I’ve been better, but…I’ve been worse too.”
Your answer was honest, and you briefly wondered what John B. would think if he knew just how bad ‘worse’ had been. You didn’t think any of them would hate you if they knew the full extent of just how far you’d fallen, but you knew they’d have a hard time wrapping their head around it. The drugs and alcohol were one thing, but Rafe Cameron was entirely another. The man was the worst example of a Kook if there was one, representing every bad trait attributed to them.
Your friends would not understand you essentially sacrificing your self respect for money and drugs.
Sometimes you didn’t understand it either. 
Most especially when Rafe had his hands around your neck.
He picked you up at 8 on the dot Friday night—a man of his word if nothing else—and less than a hour later you were bent over his father’s desk as he pounded into you. Your head was hanging off of it, fighting hard to not scrape your nails against the dark mahogany. It wasn’t the first time Rafe fucked you on Ward’s desk, and you doubted that it would be the last time. There’d even been a few rare occasions when he fucked you in the older man’s bed, and you didn’t know what complex the blond had that fueled these decisions, but you weren’t a psychologist so you figured it wasn’t anything to concern yourself with.
Despite the tight grip on your throat, a choked moan managed to escape every time Rafe pushed his cock into you. Sweat made his skin glisten, and you were sure you fared no better. His hair wasn’t so neat, now, and you had the stray thought that you preferred it that way. Rafe being so far from ugly definitely made this arrangement easier to swallow down at times, but other times it just made you angry.
How was it fair that someone seemingly had everything, including the big dick to match?
Rafe walked around like he was God’s gift to the world, possessing one of the most rotten personalities you’d ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of, and he seemed to be rewarded with it with everything the average person could only dream about. As if any of that wasn’t enough, you practically rewarded him with even more by essentially telling him he could do whatever he wanted so long as the price was right.
It made you disgusted with yourself at times.
When he pressed a hand to your stomach, hips slowing to a pace that made your breath hitch, you squeezed your eyes shut. In the quiet office, the sound of his cock disappearing between your folds was loud, the wet noise telling you that there’d no doubt be a mess left on Ward’s desk when this was all said and done. You heard Rafe curse, and you didn’t have the energy to lift your head from where it hung off the desk.
“...and to think,” he panted from above you. “You were going to pass this up to sit around with those dirty Pogues.”
At this, you did attempt to sit up, a hand against his chest and one on the desk as he thrusted into you.
“Those ‘dirty Pogues’ are my friends,” you forced out, lashes fluttering. “...and clearly you forget that I’m one too.”
Rafe merely chuckled at that, perfect teeth winking at you as he grinned.
“Yeah, but you’re my dirty Pogue so it’s a little different.”
His words had your frown deepening, disgust filling your chest at the way he talked about you while literally fucking you. Completely turned off, you turned your head away, attempting to separate yourself from him. That haughty laugh reached your ears, and to your dismay, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.
“What…?” he lazily drawled. “You don’t like the sound of that?”
“You’re being an asshole, get off of me…”
He jerked his hips against you, making you gasp, and you squirmed in his arms as you fought to get away. Rafe leaned in to harshly nip his teeth at your cheek, his movements growing rough, causing the desk to shake.
“I’ve spent too much money on you to not say whatever the hell I want,” he evenly said. “So, yeah, at this point, I’ll confidently say I practically own you.”
Tears kissed your eyes at the disgusting words, and fed up with your resistance, Rafe merely placed a hand between your breasts before harshly shoving you back down. You winced at the action, but you had no time to fully linger on it as Rafe started to roughly plunge his cock into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours reaching your ears. He wouldn’t allow you to sit up, both of his hands wrapped around your wrists now as he leaned over you.
This felt too reminiscent of the time he’d pressed your face into the bed, telling you to relax as he pressed the head of his cock just above where your folds were. You recalled the uncomfortable feeling and the tears that stained the pillow as he slowly fucked you in a place no one ever had before. The deja vu of it all had your mind wandering, eyes defocusing as you just waited for it to be over. It seemed like Rafe’s grunts sounded from above you forever, and when he finally came onto your stomach with a low moan, you didn’t move for some time.
You were slow to sit up as he got dressed, trembling as you steaded yourself for what you were about to say.
“I don’t wanna do this anymore.”
The words came out whispered, but in the quiet study, you might as well have yelled them. Rafe didn’t acknowledge you, and you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Frustrated with his refusal to take you seriously, you hopped off of Ward’s desk, angrily grabbing your clothes.
“I’m serious, Rafe. After this weekend…this is done,” you continued, voice firmer, now. “Don’t call me or text me or worry about any more money. I can’t rely on you forever anyway.”
By now, Rafe was actually listening to you, and you avoided his gaze as you got dressed. His silence was loud, and when you were finally decent again, only then did you lift your gaze to glance at him. His visage was unreadable, and after some time, he merely blinked at you.
“If I remember correctly, per your own words, your mom had enough debt ‘to file for bankruptcy’.”
His words made you sharply inhale, and you bit your tongue as he ran his hands through his hair in a poor attempt to tame the damp locks.
“Don’t ruin your life just because you’re pissed at me,” he coldly added.
You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling your lip between your teeth.
“Personal feelings aside, I can’t rely on you forever, Rafe. That’s just the truth. I have to figure something out eventually, and there’s no time like the present,” your voice shook as he fixed you with an unnerving stare. “I miss my friends, and I don’t want to be the sad, damaged girl running to Rafe Cameron just so I don’t feel anything anymore.”
The blond followed your lead, folding his arms over his own chest as he leaned against the wall, staring you down with that annoying crooked smile.
“...and where exactly do you plan to find a job that pays you what I do?”
“There are jobs, Rafe. I’ll find one.”
You didn’t appreciate his tone nor the look he was giving you as he studied you. He was looking down on you, and yes while that wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence, this time was different. He was looking down his nose like he didn’t believe in you, like he expected you to be crawling back to him in no time, begging him to fuck you again.
After a few moments, that crooked smile curved even more, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes.
“Well, I wish you luck…”
His voice didn’t match the words that came out of his mouth, and his gaze most certainly didn’t.
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“I literally called this morning and was told over the phone that you all were hiring...and now I get here, and I’m being told you’re not…?”
You tried to keep the skepticism out of your tone, but your frustration at your predicament was bubbling up and threatening to be unleashed on the lone man before you. The inside of the country club was practically empty—a slow Tuesday—and you briefly glanced around at the two staffers in the whole room. Sure, you could write it off to a slow day that didn’t need a full staff, but something in you told you that it was more than that.
You didn’t believe the man in front of you.
“Look, I don’t know what else to tell you, miss. Whoever you talked to got it wrong. I’m sorry for the miscommunication on our end,” was his only explanation.
You didn’t dare bother to point out that both he and whoever you’d spoken with on the phone sounded damn near identical.
When it became obvious that this conversation was over, you turned away with a small huff, breezing outside to a familiar dark car. Kie was standing by it, arms uncomfortably crossed over her chest, glaringly obvious that she’d rather be anywhere but here despite being from ‘here’.
“Well…?” she wondered as you got closer.
“They’re not hiring,” you mumbled as you slid into the passenger seat.
She joined you inside the vehicle a moment later, a frown on her face.
“...but you called.”
“I know.”
There was a beat of silence before she scoffed, reaching for her door handle.
“If this is because you aren’t some rich snob looking for play money…”
She trailed off when you spoke up.
“No, I don’t…I don’t think it’s that,” you stopped her. “Let’s just go.”
She eyed you for a few moments, frown deepening.
“Are you sure? Y/N, this is like the fourth place you’ve been to today,” she pointed out. “...and I don’t want to add my stress to your stress, but it’s kind of fucked up.”
You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t possible for you to be any more stressed than you already were, simply signaling for her to drive. You could feel her eyes periodically landing on you as she did, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering why the universe had it out for you.
It had been weeks since you’d last seen or talked to Rafe, weeks since you ended your little arrangement, and weeks since you’d had a consistent source of income. It wasn’t a pretty nor respectable way to make money, but you’d been making money nonetheless. However, you couldn’t find it in you to continue sacrificing your self respect to keep sleeping with Rafe Cameron. You’d also been telling the truth when you told him you didn’t want to be this messed up sad thing anymore.
You had long let go of the drugs and cut back on the drinking, and now you’d dropped Rafe too.
You’d had hope…but now it was dwindling.
No one would hire you. In fact, no one had even allowed you far enough to officially apply just to get a foot into an interview. It was always the same. You’d call ahead so you didn’t waste your time, they’d tell you they were looking for people, and then the moment you actually showed up and introduced yourself, it was an entirely different story. It didn’t make any sense to you, and the thought of ever proving Rafe right made you want to be sick.
“How bad is it?” JJ asked you a few days later, the both of you away and isolated in some corner of some guy’s party.
You looked down at the weak drink in your hand, contemplating on whether or not to be honest.
“It’s…manageable.”
A whopper of a lie.
“...then why don’t I believe you? Come on, Y/N, it’s me. I know your mom wasn’t the best when it came to funds, and when she died…” he scoffed. “You weren’t exactly in any shape to march down to anyone’s job and fight for work just to keep things afloat.”
You looked away at that, throat tight.
“I’m honestly shocked you’ve kept it up for this long.”
If only he knew…
You felt his gaze on you as you wondered just how truthful you should be, but you reminded yourself that this was JJ. If he knew the full extent of everything, he’d be likely to rob a bank. Nevermind the fact that it would just make him ask more questions, like how you’d even managed to keep things afloat all this time. You didn’t think you could lie to him, and you didn’t think you could handle being on the receiving end of whatever look JJ would undoubtedly give you if you told him you’d been sleeping with Rafe to pay your bills.
You didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that the subject of your thoughts walked through the doors to prevent this conversation from continuing. His presence shouldn’t have shocked you—the party was pretty mixed with people from all sides of the island after all—but it still gave you pause, and JJ noticed.
“This asshole,” you heard the blond murmur, rolling his eyes.
You were inclined to agree, and you shrunk in on yourself with your drink, unable to ignore the knowledge that Rafe was at the same party you were at. In the weeks you’d been free of him, you’d had time to really ponder on your dalliance, and while you’d long accepted your hand in your own life choices, it was now hard to ignore Rafe’s own opportunistic choices in the situation. Sure, yes, you fucked him for money…
…but what did it say about him that he was perfectly happy to enter an arrangement in which he kept you off of the streets so long as you opened your legs for him?
If he was a good guy he’d just…keep you off the streets.
Like JJ would if you ever told him the truth.
You’d just decided to stop hiding in the bathroom when you came face to face with the man himself, heart skipping a beat at his presence. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, and you had the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t been waiting for his turn.
“How’s the job search going?” was how he greeted you, and you hadn’t been able to keep the ire off of your face.
He softly laughed to himself at that, nodding.
“I figured you’d look a little something like that.”
“Fuck you,” you breathed, and Rafe frowned, tilting his head to the side.
“You were, remember? And then you stopped…and that’s how you found yourself back at square one,” he reminded you.
The music traveled from downstairs into the dimly lit hallway, and you looked away from him just as he heaved a tired sigh.
“Do I need to apologize for calling you and your friends dirty Pogues? Is that what this is about?” he lazily wondered.
You didn’t dignify that with a response, and when you lifted your gaze, Rafe was rolling his eyes. He fixed you with a look, reaching up to touch your hair with a tsk.
“Come on, Y/N. You need me…”
He leaned in.
“We both know it, and you’re never going to find a job in this town.”
“You don’t know that,” you fired back, slapping his hand away as you took a step away from him.
Almost instantaneously, Rafe’s entire expression morphed, and you swallowed at the shadow that passed over his features. His pink lips pressed together, and those blue eyes hardened in a way you’d never been on the receiving end of. You watched his nostrils flare.
“Oh, trust me, I know.”
The combination of his tone and his expression and his words gave you pause, and your brows pulled together as you stared at him. For a moment, the music in the house faded into the background as Kie’s words came to your mind. ‘It’s kind of messed up’, she’d said, and while you hadn’t given that much thought to the statement then…you certainly were now.
“What did you do?” you shakily asked the blond, skin growing cold.
Rafe didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it was a lie anyway.
“I don’t know what you mean,” was all he said, one brow raised.
You felt tears kiss your eyes, and you felt silly for not putting the pieces together earlier. You didn’t know how, but somehow, Rafe had a hand in your lack of employment. It seemed exactly like something he’d do, but the only thing you couldn’t understand was why. Why do it? Just to see you fail? Just to feel like he’d won?
“Look, this little rebellious act…it’s cute and amusing and all…” he shrugged off with a small smile. “...but it’s silly. We both know you’re just going to end up right back under me.”
“You’re such an asshole,” you hissed, moving past him.
“Yeah, and you knew that when you let me fuck you for drugs on some guy’s desk,” he threw at you, making you flinch and slow down. 
“I was going through things then, Rafe! I didn’t…” you huffed a sigh, turning to glower at him. “I didn’t care about things I most definitely should have. It’s different now.”
You threw your hands up.
“I’m different, now, and I don’t want to keep sacrificing my dignity and self respect just to keep a roof over my head. I don’t want to sleep with someone who views me and anyone like me as beneath him. It disgusts me, and unlike you, I have no interest in sleeping with people who I claim disgust me.”
You watched Rafe’s lip curl over his teeth.
“Yeah, that’s real respectable and noble and all, but I wonder how noble it’ll feel when you’re being evicted,” he spat at you, moving closer. “You’re not getting a job in this town, that I can promise you, so you keep this up for as long as you want to, but we both know how this ends.”
You leaned away from the finger in your face.
“I fucking own you,” he bit out, roughly grabbing your arm and yanking you close despite your resistance. “You named your price, and I paid it-.”
“For a service! Not a person,” you harshly whispered.
Rafe’s chuckle was cold as he stared you down, perfect teeth winking at you.
“You think you’re the only girl in Outer Banks willing to spread her legs for some money? You think I’d have to pay any of them half of what I paid you?” your stomach dropped at his words. “I’ve been a lot more generous than you realize.”
He roughly let you go, practically shoving you away from him, and you stumbled. He eyed you with an expression filled with promise, and when you turned away to finally find your friends and hopefully leave, you descended the stairs on unsteady legs.
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You pushed against Rafe’s arm and chest as he held your chin in a tight grip. The vehicle you were next to hid you both from view, everyone on the beach none the wiser to what was happening in the parking lot. Your feet tripped over one another as he forced you back, trapping you between him and the metal contraption.
“Is that what you came up with? You think that pathetic Pogue is going to pay your bills? Give you a place to stay when that eviction notice is taped to your door?”
“Get…off…of me,” you snarled, finally shoving him away with difficulty.
Your breathing was heavy as you glared at the blond, lips trembling and heart racing at the downright evil glint in his blue eyes. You glanced over his shoulder for any way to get away from him, your frustration growing as he moved closer.
“Color me curious, but is it somehow more dignified to fuck someone like JJ instead of me?”
The jealousy dripping from his every word threw you for a loop, and you weren’t in the right headspace to even linger on how strange that was.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not like that,” you drunkenly choked out. “I don’t know why you feel like I need to answer to you about my personal choices.”
It had only been thirty minutes ago that you were dancing with your friends. JJ—ever the flirt—had gotten a bit handsy, but it was nothing unusual. He could get handsy with a tree, and you’d merely smiled at the behavior, ignorant to the heated gaze that was hyper focused on you. You hadn’t even realized he’d been following you when you went to get a drink from Hayward’s truck.
“Butt out of my life already. You’ve already done enough,” you hissed at him, moving to get past him when he stopped you.
“We’re not done talking-.”
His words were interrupted by your hand, the sound of the slap echoing in your ears, and he’d just harshly pushed you against the car at your back when a familiar voice interrupted you both.
“Get off of her!”
Kie was suddenly there, helping you in shoving him away, and she looked at Rafe like he’d lost his mind—like she’d bore witness to an even sinister side to him. The blond didn’t seem all that fazed by her presence, barely sparing her a glance as his jaw clenched, his eyes on you. Clearly he felt that whatever he was contemplating wasn’t worth it, because without another word—but not without a final scoff—he made his way back to the party on the beach.
Kie wrapped her arms around you when you started to cry.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
What a loaded question, and you realized that the truth was just on the edge of your tongue. Unable to stop yourself, you threw your arms around her, collapsing under the weight of all your choices and what had led you to make them.
“Kie,” you started, voice trembling in her ear. “I have to tell you something.”
If she was horrified by the truth, she didn’t show it much. You could tell she was shocked as the words tumbled from your lips, her brown eyes stricken and face draining of color. You didn’t know what bothered her more—the drugs, the prostitution, or that both involved Rafe Cameron. As it turns out, it was none of those things.
“Why didn’t…why didn’t you let us help you?” she tearfully wondered, looking between your eyes. “We know how hard it’s been for you, and we wanted to be there for you, but you…you just disappeared. You barely came around, and John B. heard things, but he didn’t want to believe them.”
She whispered that last part, and your chest ached at the thought of your friends hearing about your out of character behavior but feeling powerless to stop it, accepting it as part of your grief.
“Rafe’s a demented asshole,” she finally spoke on the elephant in the room. “...and we won’t let him win, okay?”
There was conviction in Kie’s voice, the kind of conviction that made you want to believe her, and so you nodded at her words.
She helped you straighten, wiping your face and taking you back to the party, quietly promising you that she wouldn’t say anything about any of this to the guys. She stuck to you for the rest of the night, and a week later, she made good on her promise, her parents shaking your hand as they welcomed you to their staff.
“We could always use the extra hands,” Mrs. Carrera told you one Friday evening. “It gets crazy busy, especially on the weekends.”
All the noise in the restaurant only validated her statement.
You’d been working at The Wreck for a week, and while it was nothing like what Rafe had been paying you, it was a job. It was a means of earning your own money that didn’t involve lowering yourself to the likes of Rafe Cameron. It was grueling, sure, and you sometimes wondered if it was truly worth the money, but then you’d think of the alternative, and you’d decide that it was worth something and that’s what mattered.
You hadn’t been paying that much attention when you approached your last table for the night, looking up from the apron at your waist and stopping in your tracks.
“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here too,” Topper said, a fairly neutral greeting.
Topper may have been just as much of an asshole as his friends, but he at least played nice for the public. Your gaze traveled around the table, quickly looking away when it connected with a familiar blue.
“It’s…a fairly new gig,” you finally said, getting your notepad ready.
“Hey, if you’re going to use your friends for anything, might as well use them to become a productive member of society,” he told you, his tone now making you frown.
Opting to ignore the comment, you asked them what they wanted. You didn’t make eye contact with Rafe when he gave you his order, hand unsteady as you wrote it down. When you left them to go and get their drinks, you weren’t surprised to hear the scrape of a chair behind you. You were focused on rounding the counter, reaching for some clean glasses.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
You didn’t forget your last encounter with the rich blond, tempted to ignore his presence altogether, but you were unfortunate enough to know how Rafe operated. Pausing in your movements, you turned to look at him, not surprised at all by the unhappy look on his face.
“I’m working, Rafe. What does it look like?”
You eyed the way his jaw ticked, finger gently tapping against the counter as he simply…stared you down. You glanced away, realizing that he didn’t have any power over you anymore. No, you weren’t completely out of the woods, but you had a secured source of income, and you’d happily struggle and scrape over sleeping with Rafe ever again.
“Go find some other struggling girl to take advantage of,” you finally said to him, grabbing their drinks and making your way to their table without a backwards glance.
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Working at The Wreck was hard work, and no matter how many shifts you covered and how many tips you got, it was still long and hard work for half the money Rafe had ever paid you. You knew this when Kie came to you about the job, but on the other side of it, you were so beyond grateful for it. You were still stressed, of course, your monetary problems not going away anytime soon, but it was the normal stress of the average working twenty-something.
It wasn’t the kind of worry that came from a violent and abusive lover.
Rafe had been by the restaurant a few times since that day, and each time was more nerve-wracking than the last. Sometimes you served him, sometimes you didn’t, but it didn’t really matter because his gaze always found its way to you either way. On the days when Kie worked too, she’d ask you if you wanted her to do something about him, but you always declined.
After all, what reason would you have her give to her parents for kicking out the son of Ward Cameron who—to their knowledge—hadn’t done anything to warrant it?
Maybe you should’ve listened to Kie though. While you didn’t know if that would’ve changed things, you at least would have felt better about attempting to do something. Perhaps it was the mere sight of watching you work—watching you earn money independent of him—that made him snap, made him drop all pretenses completely. Barring him from the restaurant while you were there might’ve triggered some out of sight, out of mind response. It might’ve forced him to slowly get over whatever this thing was that he had about you.
It might have…
…and it also might not have done shit. Perhaps nothing would’ve changed, and you still would’ve found yourself tearfully staring at Kie’s mom as you took off your apron for the last time.
It was a normal Saturday when the texts and emails came through. The busiest day of the week, the most packed the restaurant ever would be for the next six days, and you’d been placing some fries down in front of some family’s kid when the noise in the restaurant…changed. You hadn’t been able to pinpoint how it changed, but if you did your best, it was like the chatters went from excitement about their food or whatever happened during the week to something else entirely.
One single thing that everyone was talking about.
You weren’t getting paid to mind your patrons’ business, but you started to think differently about that when the people at the table you were next to started to heavily eye you. The whole restaurant was loud with hushed chatter, so you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the glances between the phones in their hands and you had you frowning.
You were slowly glancing around—realizing that that table wasn’t the only one—when you were yanked by your arm off the floor.
“What are you doing? What’s going on?” you worriedly wondered the moment Kie had you hidden from view.
The look on her face was hard to read, but her parted lips and wide eyes told you that she was horrified. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, seemingly unable to get the words out before slamming it shut, swallowing. The combination of her expression, her silence, and the lack of silence out there had a ball of dread forming deep in your gut.
“Kie,” you softly said. “What…what’s wrong?”
It took her a moment to speak.
“It’s Rafe,” she softly said.
Your confusion only grew, still not quite understanding. 
“What happened? Is he bothering you? Did…he do something to you?” you hesitantly asked, fearful that your former tormentor had turned his sights onto your friend.
“Not to me.”
That simple sentence started to put the pieces together, and you turned your face towards the front of the restaurant, recalling the stares and whispers and listening to the excited chatter. Your skin grew cold, goosebumps erupting all over you, and that dread was long gone. It was instead replaced by nausea.
“He sent everyone something…”
“No,” you heard yourself whisper.
“...a video.”
You turned to her with wide eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. Glancing down, you caught sight of her phone in her hand, and before Kie could stop you, you’d snatched it out of her grip. You moved out of her reach as she extended her arm, desperately trying to protect you, but it was too late.
You felt like you were weighed down by bricks as you stared at the two familiar faces on the screen.
It had to have been taken months ago, during one of the first few times you’d slept with him. You both were in Ward’s bedroom, and you remembered the day all too well, recalling the feel of his palm striking your skin and his voice in your ear before pulling your head down to his lip. Of course, it was that one and not one of the ones where he’d held you down and forced you to take his thrusts.
Your hand was empty, not even realizing when Kie had taken it back, simply staring into space at the memory of what was on that screen.
“Y/N, when my parents find out—and they’re going to find out—they…”
Her words died in the air at the sound of footsteps behind you, and you flinched when you heard a familiar voice call your name. Mrs. Carerra didn’t sound happy, and her expression fared no better when you turned around. You couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over as she gestured for you to follow her further into the back of the restaurant. You knew what was coming, what Kie was trying to prepare you for.
It was what Rafe wanted, after all…and he’d gotten it.
It was hours later when you were sitting with your back against your door, your phone turned off, overwhelmed by the influx of missed calls and messages from your friends. You’d only gotten a glimpse at them before finding your head bent inside of your toilet. Every single one of them bar Kie were shocked, their horror and confusion clear as day through their words. Only Pope had eventually sent a text that asked if you were okay.
…and the truth was that you weren’t.
You were so far from okay.
Rafe had won, he’d gotten exactly what he wanted, and even though Mrs. Carerra had expressed sympathy for your plight—more angry at the situation than anything else—she’d still had no choice but to let you go. Every other business in town valued the Cameron family way too much, and the only place that had been willing to hire you had been swayed by Rafe too in the worst manner possible.
It was well after midnight when your door shook from harsh knocks. You hadn’t moved in hours, just blankly staring at the wall, and you closed your eyes at the sound, positive it was one of your friends. You didn’t have the strength to face them, to answer questions and either break down or pretend you felt far better than you actually did.
You did, however, have the strength to face Rafe, your gaze lifting when his voice met your ears, demanding that you open the door.
His fist was still in the air when you swung it open, looking at him like he was something you’d find on the bottom of your shoes. He looked as put together as ever, completely unfazed by what he’d done. And why wouldn’t he be? This wouldn’t hurt his reputation and success in this town a bit. If nothing else, the video would have even more girls falling at his feet, but for some reason he didn’t seem to want that.
He preferred to force your hand instead.
“What is wrong with you?” you tearfully asked him, throat tight.
He didn’t respond right away, touching his tongue to his lip as his gaze roamed behind you.
“You gonna let me in?”
Your eyes almost popped out of your sockets, and he gave a haughty laugh.
“It’s not like I’ve left you with much of a choice, now, have I?”
He sounded so…proud of himself, and all you could do was cry as he brushed past you. He closed the door for you, noticing that you were struggling to move, and he kept his hand on the wood, his chest grazing your back as he pressed his face into your hair. You heard him deeply inhale, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
“I told you how this would end,” he whispered. “I gave you a chance to be smart about this.”
You went to move away from him, but his other hand shot out to grip your arm.
“You’re the one who made things way more difficult than they needed to be.” he continued. “We had a good thing going…and then you had to go and get sensitive and sentimental.”
When he forced you to face him, you kept your eyes on the collar of his shirt. The silence stretched as you refused to look at him, and you eventually heard Rafe heave a sigh. He let your arm go, and you watched him reach into his pocket, disappointed but not surprised by the roll of one hundred dollar bills he pulled out. When he straightened, he took your hand and placed the money in your palm, clasping your hands together.
A few more tears escaped when his fingers threaded through yours.
“Do you still feel like fighting this?” he quietly asked. “Let me know, right now, because I have all the time—and money—in the world.”
He slowly pulled you closer.
“You don’t.”
You shakily exhaled, reluctantly lifting your gaze to meet his own. You stared at one another for what felt like too long, and when he leaned in, taking your silence as defeat, you let him kiss you. It was a salty kiss, your own tears mixing in, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, moving his lips against yours with a growing smile. His arm snaked its way around your waist, and the animalistic noise he let out told you just how excited he was to have you back under his thumb.
The couch seemed sufficient enough for him, bringing you both to it as he peeled your clothes off. You shuddered as the air hit your naked skin, thoughtlessly moving closer to his own body heat, and Rafe pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he laid you down. It felt like ages since you’d last slept with him, but you knew that wasn’t why you were trembling.
You were trembling because you finally realized you were sleeping with a monster. Before, Rafe had just been an opportunistic asshole to you. Rich, spoiled, selfish, the list went on, but now he was so much more than that. He was now someone who’d raped you on more than one occasion, and who had proved that he’d do anything to make you completely reliant on no one but him.
How else could he ensure that you’d never leave him? Never have any other choices but him? You’d eventually have to leave Outer Banks one day, you knew that to be true if you ever wanted a life independent of him, but that video could follow you around for the rest of your life, and very probably would.
When Rafe sheathed himself inside of you, stretching you out in a way that was regularly familiar to you, you gasped. The blond wasted no time in adopting a steady pace, fucking you hard against your couch, his fingers pressing into the arm of it. His grunts were soft in your ears, and despite your combined hatred and fear of him, you weren’t able to swallow down the whimpers that escaped your lips too.
You didn’t know what kind of hard on Rafe had for fucking someone he deemed so far beneath him, even more so to go through so much trouble of forcing you right back into his bed. You didn’t understand it one bit, and part of you never wanted to. You didn’t want to understand a thing that went on inside of his head, didn’t want to understand the thought process behind doing what he’d done to you.
His fingers scraped down your thigh before yanking you forward as he sat up some, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you. He was focused on the sight, lips parting as he panted from above you. He didn’t lean back down until your leg was over his shoulder, preventing you from moving much as he used you to chase his high, hips repeatedly curving against yours and forcing you to grip the couch.
“I missed this pussy so much,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth as he spoke. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
You hadn’t before, but you did, now.
When his hand landed on your throat, it didn’t hurt, but his thumb applied just enough pressure to keep you alert.
“I’ll stop calling your friends dirty Pogues if that makes you feel better,” he whispered, a gentle kiss from his lips to yours. “...but you still belong to me.”
2K notes · View notes
pedrospatch · 7 months ago
Text
flutter
Jackson! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader
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snapshots masterlist
summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?
word count: 3.5k
a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.
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“Shit.”
You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?
Over the last few months, there’d been changes.
Some subtle and some not so subtle.
“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”
She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.
“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”
During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.
“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”
You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.
One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.
Not until now.
“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”
“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”
“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”
Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.
It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.
“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.
Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.
After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.
He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.
You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.
Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”
“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”
One stern glare from her had shut you right up.
“Fine.”
Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.
You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.
With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.
As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.
“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”
“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”
“You’re bigger!”
With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”
She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.
“You look different. I mean, you look great—”
“Ellie?”
“Yeah?”
“Just shut up and eat.”
“Deal.”
She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 
“You get your fractions homework done?”
“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”
Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”
“Sure.”
As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.
“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.
“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”
“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.
Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.
She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”
Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”
“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”
“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”
“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”
Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.
Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.
And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.
In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.
You bite back a small sigh.
By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.
“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”
“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”
You hear a chair scrape against the tile.
“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”
“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.
Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.
He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 
The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.
Uncomfortable.
Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.
“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”
“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 
He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”
You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”
Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.
“Mhm,” is all he says.
Your smile falters.
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It’s the middle of August.
The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.
“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”
He’s met with silence.
Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”
Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”
“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”
Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.
“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”
Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”
“Huh?”
“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”
Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”
“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”
“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.
“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 
“What are you afraid of?”
Joel almost laughs.
He doesn’t know where to start.
He’s afraid of everything.
“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”
“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”
“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”
“Joel—”
“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”
Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.
“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”
“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.
“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”
He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”
“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”
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Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 
“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.
“What does it fucking look like, man?”
“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”
Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.
“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”
Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”
Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.
He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.
He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.
He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.
Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.
Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.
He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.
The man you both needed.
Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?
He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.
“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”
“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice.
Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.
Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.
He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
Until the minutes turn into hours.
Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 
Until he finally feels that little flutter again.
He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.
He’d just felt the baby’s movement.
There’s a sudden shift.
Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.
His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.
Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.
With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.
Maybe his brother’s right.
Maybe he will be just fine.
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divider credit to @saradika 🤍
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illusioninfnty · 1 year ago
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learning curve ↠ day 6 ; dry humping
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↠ monkey d. luffy x reader
fandom: one piece word count: 1.1k warnings: nsfw 18+, dual virgins, luffy and reader are inexperienced, jealous!luffy if you squint, takes place a bit after opla season 1 so luffy is aged up
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
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“Luffy?” You call for your captain, peeking your head into his quarters. “Is everything okay?”
You noticed that your cheery and optimistic captain had been unusually quiet the past few hours. He never had gone that long without some sort of exclamation or crazy action, and his odd behavior was worrying to you. So when he finally retreated to his room, you decided to follow to see what was up.
“Oh!” Luffy’s eyes widen, as he says your name, clearly surprised to see you. He sends you a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug, going inside and closing the door behind you. You take a seat next to him on his bed. “I don’t know,” you start. “You just seem…distant. You can tell me what's bothering you.”
Luffy sighs, taking off his hat to run a hand through his curls. “I don’t know how to describe it. I feel just so frustrated. But no matter what I do, I can’t get rid of it!”
You were confused too, unsure why Luffy wasn’t able to brush this off like he always did. Until a lightbulb went off. You remember Sanji mentioning urges that men get sometimes, and how they need a woman to fix it.
“It sounds like you might have some tension, you know, down…there.”
Luffy pauses, taking in what you said, before his eyes brighten. “I think you’re right!” he exclaims. “Oh wow, that makes a lot of sense now.” He goes quiet again, a sheepish look spreading across his face. “I don’t know how to get rid of it, though.”
You bite your lip, heat rising to your cheeks. “I think I’m able to help you with it.”
Luffy jumps up and grasps your shoulders. “Alright!” he cheers. He sits back down next to you and looks up at the ceiling, seemingly in thought. “That actually makes a lot of sense. The feeling always gets worse whenever I’m around you. I guess you have to be the one to fix it then, huh?”
“O-oh.” You stutter. Not only did you just discover that your captain (who you may have had a tiny bit of a crush on) was sexually frustrated, but he was like that because of you. A wave of heat rushed down your body.
“Yeah.” You confirm to Luffy, hoping to not seem too excited about this whole situation. “I just have to get on top of you.”
Luffy nods, spreading his legs and leaning back on his forearms, inviting you in. You immediately notice the boner he’s sporting, which makes you heat up even more. You seat yourself right on top of it, causing the two of you to moan harmoniously.
You start to move yourself on top of Luffy, his clothed cock hitting your pussy in the perfect spot. The fabric of your underwear rubs against your clit, causing your wetness to begin to stain it.
You reach your hand down to palm him through his shorts, hoping that you're bringing him pleasure from at least one of two ways. Luffy looks up at you with curious eyes.
“How’d you know to do this?” he asks you.
“I heard Sanji talking about it. He says guys feel like that a lot. Pent up, ‘s what he called it.” He goes quiet for a moment. “Have you done this with him?”
“W-what? No!” Your hands scrunch up in his vest and you swallow hard. “This is actually my first time doing anything like this,” you admit sheepishly, eyes downcast.
Luffy grins. “Yeah, me too!” he says brazenly. “Guess we’ll figure out how to do this together!” He laughs. 
You send a matching grin back as you continue to grind on top of him. You’re practically sopping now, an audible sound happening when you rock back and forth on Luffy. His cock throbs furiously, and you gasp when he grabs your hips.
He starts to rock back onto you, pumping his hips upwards into you. You lean forward as the sensation weakens you, and Luffy buries his face into your neck.
“Feels good…” he mumbles into you. You hum in agreement as you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure.
You increase your pace, wrapping your arms around Luffy as you both press close against the other, grinding each other uncontrollably. 
Luffy suddenly stills your hips and moves you onto the bed, face down and ass hanging off the edge. You gasp in surprise.
“Want to try this,” he breathes out as he hovers over you. You’re met with him thrusting against you from behind, hips moving wildly as he lets out low groans behind you. Luffy wraps his arms around your midsection, holding you in place.
You’re strung out and helpless as Luffy humps into you, his pulsing cock hitting against your clit. Your wetness has fully soaked your bottoms, and Luffy is able to thrust his cock between your clothed lips with ease.
Your captain moves with reckless abandon, hips jutting against your own. Neither of you can talk past groans and whines. This act feels primal, both of you desperately chasing your release.
His hands on your waist tightens as he humps into you and his groans are loud in your ear. You arch yourself into him, attempting your best to rub yourself against his cock.
He moans out your name into the crook of your neck as his body covers your own. “You feel really great,” he continues, his voice cracking. He moves faster and faster against you, seeking his peak. 
Your hands fist the bedsheet as you bounce back and forth against his thrusts and grinds against your clothed pussy. “Luffy!” you cry out. You can feel his hips start to move out of rhythm and he lets out a final low moan before you feel the stickiness of his cum seep through his shorts and onto your own.
Both of you are panting furiously, tired from your romp. Luffy rolls off of you, collapsing next you on the bed. You turn yourself onto your back and lean towards him, basking in the pleasure you just received.
Luffy turns his head towards you. “I don’t want you to do that with anyone else on the crew.” He says, with more seriousness than you’ve heard from him all night.
“I wouldn’t think of it.” You hesitate to continue as you prepare for disappointment with your next statement. “But—if you want, we can do this again soon. If you’d like to.” You mentally hit yourself in the head for stumbling over your words so embarrassingly.
He sits up, seemingly recovered from his orgasm. “Are you kidding? You don’t even need to ask! ‘Course we are!”
You laugh, wrapping your arms around your captain and giggling into his chest.
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lale-txt · 15 days ago
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❦ IDLE HANDS (Kuroo x f!reader)
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Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two.
a/n: little something for @husbandograveyard ♡ writing this made me a Kuroo girlie. i get it now. i really, REALLY do. also when i started writing this i was aiming for 1k or so idk what possessed me but here we are. maybe listening to bouncy while writing this wasn't the best idea (lie)
tags: f!reader, mild enemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, shameless flirting, food mention, bit of a slow burn, they're so in love your honor
wc: 3.7k
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Kuroo Tetsuro is a heartthrob.
With his stupid messy hair and his stupid rolled up sleeves, showing off his stupid toned arms while he’s mumbling stupid sweet things to your favorite cat that’s currently coiling underneath his stupid big hand, getting the best belly rubs of her life from the looks of it. 
It’s not like you’re jealous or something, no; it’s just that you’ve been coming to this cat café for a year now and you thought you and the calico shared a special bond. Maru, who is just as her name implies, very round and very soft, has been sitting and purring by your side while you spend hours typing page after page of your next book. She’d also stretch out all over your laptop and remind you to take a break when you’ve been going at it for hours. Yes, it took you some bribery to win her heart but over the past months she really warmed up to you. Wow, she usually isn’t this friendly with people, you remember the café owner say once. 
What a blatant lie. 
Your peace has been disturbed. A slight shift in the universe when he showed up for the first time merely a week ago. It was easy to remember him, because he was sitting in your spot with your favorite cat purring in his lap, looking like he didn’t have a single worry in the world except maybe that untamed hair of his (and even this was kind of charming, you had to admit begrudgingly).
Sharing usually wasn’t a big deal for you–until it was. You come to this cat café almost every day, feeling much more inspired to write here than in the shoebox you call your apartment at the other end of town. Your landlady doesn’t allow pets, so this place has been a lifeline in the tiring times of deadlines and rejected book deals. At the end of the day there was always a cat rubbing against your legs, reminding you that not everything was bad and that no matter how severe things got, there was always a kitty waiting to be picked up.
You hold this place very dear to your heart, a secret gem you felt a need to protect. It is hidden away in a side street, far from the hectic buzz of the city. The interior is cozy, it isn’t too big and the owner, an elderly lady with candy cotton hair and knuckle tattoos, lives upstairs and treats the place like her second living room with all six of her cats. There’s never too many other guests around and in the corner seat by the window you can unravel your thoughts quietly. It feels homey, something you haven’t felt in a long time.
But now there is an intruder in a business suit and you didn’t really know how to deal with that new found irritation.
“That’s my spot.”
Balancing your laptop, notebook, a slice of carrot cake and a hot drink in one hand, all manners aside, you point at the stranger with your other. In your right mind you know it is rude to point at people, but to be fair he kinda started it by sitting where you rightfully belong. His eyes, a certain gleam in them, follow your movement down to the cat curled up on top of his thighs. With the amount of cat hair sticking to his suit pants you could only pray for him that he had a lint roller somewhere at his desk. 
He cocks his head to the side, giving you a boyish smirk that maybe would make your heart skip a beat if it wasn’t for his audacity. 
“Usually I ask someone’s name first and take them on a few dates before I let them sit in my lap, but I guess I can make an exception,” he replies and you never in your life before wanted to strangle someone so badly. If that wasn’t already worse enough, the tuxedo cat lifts its small head and slowly blinks at you before jumping down from his lap, as if it was trying to make space for you. My bad, didn’t know this seat was taken. Here, girl, you have it.
For once in your life you’re too stunned to speak. You watch the stranger check his watch and let out an almost inaudible sigh before he grabs his backpack (one that looks like he has had it since high school) and stands up to full height. He’s in your space now and you have to crank your neck slightly to meet his eyes. Mentally you’re adding stupidly tall to your list of things you hate about him. 
“Gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
True to his words he is there the next day, too. This time around you managed to secure your spot by the window, three cats idly sleeping next to you on. You’ve been stuck on a paragraph for almost an hour now when the doorbell chimes and his figure appears at the counter. The cats look up with interest but you force yourself not to pay any attention to him, which is hard when his order is literally “I’ll have whatever she is having”, followed by a nod in your direction and this cheeky smile again. 
This damn smile.
“You didn’t strike me as a dirty chai drinker,” you deadpan when he takes a seat at the table next to yours. The café is almost empty around this time of the day, which is no surprise since most of the workers in this district are having a hearty meal for lunch and not whatever sweet delicacies this place is offering. 
He peels himself out of his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. The same cat as yesterday jumps into his lap immediately after he sits down, giving you a look of “if you don’t want him, I’ll take him” and you almost roll your eyes. Kuroo (you learn his name from the ID he is wearing around his neck) seems to notice and he grins at you. 
“Then what did I strike you as?” he asks, his chin resting in one hand while his other finds the soft fur of the kitty, stroking it gently. 
You look him up and down, now taking your time while stretching out the silence between you two. Only the purring of the cats and the soft music in the background could be heard. At first glance he seems like your typical office worker in the three piece suit who spends his time filling out spreadsheets and drinking cheap vending-machine coffee from the conbini next door. Everything a little rumpled, himself included, someone so used to tristesse he doesn’t even notice it anymore. 
Only at second glance do you notice the small wrinkles around his eyes, not from age but from laughter. The dimples when he smiles down at the tuxedo cat in his lap, now showing off its belly. His calloused hands, atypical for an office worker, more like you’d see them at craftsmen or athletes. Something in his eyes that radiates warmth and an air of calm confidence. None of it is unpleasant.
“If I had to guess, maybe three espresso with a pump of caramel and honey,” you say, more to yourself than to him. Kuroo looks at you in surprise before barking out a laugh. You hate how you like the sound of it.
It’s the beginning of spring and you award Kuroo Tetsuro the title of the greatest nuisance you’ve ever met.
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In the midst of summer, you pity him. 
“I’m just saying that maybe you radiate a natural fragrance of catnip,” you say as you stir your iced oat milk latte. Kuroo got you that one when he popped in during his lunch break and saw that your glass must have been empty for a while. By that time you were hunched over your laptop, trying to decipher your notes from last night. You had saved him a seat at your table, but if he asked you, you’d say you just happened to put all your belongings on one chair and nothing more.
The man is swarmed by the cats of the café. They didn’t even bother to hide who their favorite is, rubbing around his legs, sitting pressed to his side or just straight up climbing his shoulders. It would’ve been enviable if he wasn’t already sweating from wearing a suit in the humid heat of the summer month alone. 
“Can you get at least one or two off me?” he asks and his tone is close to pleading. It makes you laugh as you stretch out in your light sundress, giving him a look as if you’re contemplating his question. 
“I could, but it’s really much funnier seeing you struggle like that. Serves you well,” you chime and pull out your phone, snapping a photo of this moment. You hold it up for him to see, a kitty phone charm dangling from it (they just happened to come in a pack of two and you gifted him one out of generosity, nothing more). He snatches it from your hands and makes a face.
“So you like seeing me suffer, is that how it is?” he snarls at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His slender fingers fly over the screen of your phone and you let out a small gasp.
“Don’t you dare delete it,” you huff and grab the orange tabby mercifully off his shoulders so you can lean over him better. 
“Relax. I’m only saving my contact info since you never bothered asking me for it despite being my constant for the past three months.”  
There was this cheeky smile again. You blame the flutter of your heart on the caffeine and not the way his pupils are dilating when he gazes at you. 
He loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Suddenly you’re very aware of how close you’re leaning over at him. Kuroo gives you a little glance from the corner of his eyes and taps the now revealed side of his neck. 
“What do you say? Do I really smell like catnip?” 
Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two. You can feel the heat radiating off him and for a brief moment you wonder what it would feel like to press open mouth kisses on his skin. Your eyes flutter shut as you engrave this moment into your heart. 
“Definitely irresistible,” you murmur once you pull back–reluctantly, as if a hidden part of you ached to be in his proximity, in the inside of his soul.  
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By autumn you miss him on the days when he was gone. 
He traveled quite a lot. You didn’t know one would need to be on the road so much for something as simple as volleyball (you can imagine the look he’d give you over this). But he was passionate about it and that’s also something you liked about him. The way he talks about the sport holds so much love and you wonder what it would feel like to be loved by a man like Kuroo Tetsuro.
Gentle, you think. Honest. Treasured.
A tap against the window pulls you out of your thoughts and when you look up, you're met with a pair of honey glazed eyes. Whatever he sees when he looks at you, it’s making him grin from ear to ear before he hurries towards the entry door, eager to meet you again.
Kuroo is holding up a bag, some brand of sweets from Hokkaido he’s been texting you about, but you didn’t think he’d actually go so far and bring you some. He sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he rushed all the way to get here and when he keeps on rambling, you order him and yourself a hot matcha boba and a chocolate mousse to share. 
The cats are happy to see him back too, and you laugh when you help him take his scarf off before some kitty claws can tangle up in it. It was a precious gift after all, one you knitted for him, under the feeble excuse of “keeping my hands busy helps me come up with ideas for my writing process”. It makes you happy to see him wearing it, and the color makes you feel as if you took the red string of fate connecting you two and turned it into something to help him stay warm.
You think a lot about kissing him now. Sometimes your hands would brush against each other on the table, neither of you pulling away. He spends his lunch breaks with you and comes to pick you up from the café in the evening, walking you to your station. The two of you still bicker at each other, but underneath lies a certain kind of softness, one that feels too fickle to put it into words just yet but also too bright to ignore. The leaves of the trees are falling and so are you. 
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With winter comes snow and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, it’s unadulterated love. 
You spend a lot of time huddled together in the corner by the window now. He looks over your shoulder when you type on your laptop, one arm resting idly on the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your spine sometimes. You don’t think he even notices when he lets them run up and down there. Often you forget which cups on the table belong to who but it doesn’t matter since you order the same things anyway and because this could count as an indirect kiss, right? 
On some days he’d just close his eyes and laze next to you, with his head resting on his folded arms on the table and your fingers idly weaving through his hair, before he had to hurry back to work. On others he would tell you excitedly about a special match he was organizing and you can hear the pure joy in his voice. It’s contagious.You get them now, the cats. How drawn they are to him, like chasing sunbeams. 
He spells L-O-V-E on your back with his fingertips and something inside of you softens. 
Then there’s snow, more snow than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and Kuroo comes to pick you up early, the tip of his ears bright red and his cold hands seeking yours to warm them up. 
“I’m really sorry but I’m closing the shop early today,” the café owner apologizes and puts a box of cinnamon rolls for you on your table. “You two kittens better hurry and get home, too. On the radio they said they’re gonna shut everything down soon.”
It can’t be that bad, you think. But when Kuroo and you stand in front of the closed station, it dawns on you that maybe you’ve underestimated the amount of snow a teeny tiny bit. You huddle a little closer to him for warmth and to shield yourself against the snow as you pull out your phone. 
“If there’s no more trains running, I better start looking for a place to stay. With some luck there’s still a few vacant rooms in the hotels nearby…”
Kuroo puts a hand over your screen and gives you a stern look when you open our mouth to protest. 
“You can crash at my place for the night. I live close by," he mutters and it doesn’t really leave room to decline his offer. Maybe it’s not really an offer to begin with; more of a silent pleading to stay. Not just for the duration of the snowstorm, but forever maybe. 
His place is just like you imagined it would be like. Not overly spacious but it feels like a home in every corner. There’s photos on the wall, back from when he was a kid to his high school and college years, and pinned with a magnet to the fridge is also a polaroid he took of you back in summer. In it you’re laughing about something silly he said and you’re holding up two cats at once, one strap of your sundress almost slipping down your shoulder. You still remember how he fixed it for you because you didn’t have a hand free and how his fingers lingered for longer than necessary. 
You hope one day he won’t pull his hand away anymore.
The apartment is certainly not messy but you can see he lives in this place, with some papers scattered across the coffee table and the unmade bed and the slightly concerning stock of buldak noodles in the kitchen shelves (in which you peeked out of curiosity into while he was in the shower). You imagine yourself living here, too. Maybe you’d get a cat on your own and plants for the balcony once this winter was over. 
The laundry machine rumbles quietly in the background after you step out of the bathroom, too. It wasn’t just the steamy shower that had your cheeks feel hot, it was also his clothes that he put out for you, with his scent lingering on them and engulfing you softly. Kuroo appears with two cups from the kitchen and pauses when he sees you, his mouth opening and closing again as his eyes flicker over your form. He doesn’t want to stare but also he does want to stare, wants to drink you in and memorize every detail of this moment. 
You can see his Adam's apple bop slightly when he swallows and nods over to the couch, and it’s at this moment that you know you’re not leaving this apartment again before every inch of your skin has been plastered in kisses. 
“It’s not as good as the one’s at the café but I tried my best for my special guest,” he laughs quietly when he hands you your cup, his fingers brushing against yours. The hot chocolate looks impossibly sweet, with whipped cream and sprinkles on top (they’re not ordinary sprinkles, you realize, but tiny cat shaped ones), and the first sip would’ve been enough to send you in some higher spheres if you weren’t in a state of bliss due to his proximity already. You put the cups to cool down on the coffee table and sink into the couch. 
Outside the snow is falling relentlessly, muffling the sounds of the outside world and opening up a new one, right here in these four walls.
In his arms. 
Without realizing you both settled down in your now familiar positions, only closer this time. Huddled next to each other, with one of his arms around your shoulder drawing you nearer to him. It feels natural, the way your head comes to rest against his shoulder and your legs thrown over his lap, the two of you sharing a blanket. 
He’s warm. Kuroo is so warm. 
And when he presses a fleeting kiss on top of your head it’s like everything is falling in place; the months of pining and yearning and unspoken desire. In the midst of a snowstorm both of your hearts are set ablaze, with a tenderness you haven’t experienced in this lifetime before. You sure hope he will find you in the next and the one after that as well because you never want to miss his embrace ever again. 
“That’s my spot,” you murmur and Kuroo laughs, the kind with his head tilted back and his chest rumbling. His grip around you tightens and he pulls you impossibly closer, till you’re really in his lap now, your head tucked under his chin. 
“Damn right it is.” 
You can feel his heart drum, or maybe it’s your own that’s doing somersaults–either way, it’s the same rhythm, a steady thrumming and rattling, begging to be felt. Time seems to freeze at this moment and you’re both quiet. Cat’s got your tongue. Kuroo has both arms around you now, and one of his hands settles on your waist, at the part where your sweatshirt is bunched up a little. His thumb draws small patterns against your bare skin, his touch featherlight and gentle.
You lift your head, only enough so you can catch his gaze. For the first time in your life you understand what it means to have your heart in your throat, because he takes your breath away with a simple glance. His other hand comes to rest against your cheek, cupping your face softly while his grip around your waist tightens a fraction.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters and you can see his sharp teeth flash in the corner of your eyes when he laughs. 
“Like what?” “You know what.” “I think I’ll need to have it spelled out for me.”
He laughs again and this time he leans in closer till his breath is fanning over your skin and everything is happening all at once. Honey and caramel eyes asking you to drown in them. The heat of his body mingling with yours. Your fingers playing with the shaved part of hair in the back of his neck, sending small shivers down his spine.
“Oh, I’ll spell it out for you alright.”
Kuroo kisses you with all the gentleness of the world. It feels as natural as if he had done this countless times before, as if he had kissed you in every life prior to that. He hums into the kiss and smiles when your lips part for him so willingly, and then he deepens the kiss in a way that makes you forget your name for a heartbeat or two. 
Sweet, you think. Soft and saccharine. And warm. So warm. The same what loving Kuroo feels like.
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heathermason6060 · 15 days ago
Text
Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut: Teasing will get you Somewhere
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Gif found on Pinterest unknown credit
Warnings/Mentions: Blue balls, Dark/Rough!Daryl, sexual teasing (Daryl receiving) rough sex, spitting, choking, manhandling, biting, blood blisters, spanking, bruising, it might smell like dubcon but it's not
Summary: Reader wants to see Daryl at his breaking point, teasing and depriving him of release until he gets there. 
Notes: I loved writing this so much. While trying to think of a plot for dark!Daryl I remembered this idea/prompt someone had like 5 years ago where the reader teases a guy until he cracks and just goes crazy. I think it was a fanfiction, but I looked through my bookmarks and ao3 history and couldn't find anything like this so if you know what I'm talking about please let me know!!
All you wanted from the start was to see Daryl snap. He was such an aggressive loudmouthed man, but not in the way you wanted him to be. 
He'd started flirting with you to appease Merle, the man who'd instantly noticed how you swooned around Daryl. The younger Dixon didn't believe him, of course, but he approached you to avoid the harsh blows of Merle calling him a ‘belly-up pussy’ along with more distasteful slurs. 
His way of “flirting” was a lot like Merles at first. Offensive, inappropriate, you know the rest. You'd been patient enough to politely explain that you weren't like the type of women that would fuck Merle after he called them a 'sweet piece of Georgian ass', and he took the hint. 
Daryl was shockingly sweet after that. He was less verbal after learning vulgar compliments weren't the way to go, but it turned out alright for you in the end. He began looking after you like you were his full responsibility. Making sure you were fed first, bringing home clothes specifically for you, along with any other treats he thought you might like. 
It was great, aside from him never making a move on you. He gawked like you were an alien when you started dressing for his gaze, Bobby Brooks shorts, pretty tank tops, even shaving your legs once in a while. But he never made a move. 
That simply wouldn't do. 
It was late one night and you'd slipped into his tent. 
“The hell you doin'?” He cursed, wiping the sleep from his eyes as you zipped up the flap behind you. 
“Can't sleep, Carl won't stop coughing.” 
You'd been sharing a tent with Lori and Carl ever since you arrived with T-Dog. It wasn't a complete lie, Carl was coughing up a storm, sick with some chest cold, but that wasn't the reason for your lack of sleep.
“I got some earplugs.” He sat up and began shifting through his bags. 
“No, it's okay. Can I crash here tonight?” You asked innocently, kicking off your casual flip flops that you saved for night time piss breaks or trips to get water. 
Daryl tried hiding his surprise . The stutter in his voice gave him away. “Uh, sure, I guess. S’long as ya dun snore.”
You behaved for an impressive amount of time. Lying in silence, not moving an inch, waiting for him to loosen up before quietly shifting backwards until your back was pressed up against his chest. 
His heart felt seconds away from collapsing in on itself when he felt you. He'd popped a semi when you'd taken off that big T-shirt he'd given you, and now it was bordering on a full on erection.
You waited until you felt his body relax, which took longer than you originally estimated, and then wiggled your hips. 
The reaction was immediate. He sucked in a breath through his nose and made this choking sound. He grabbed your hips, only for a split second before yanking his hands away like he'd been burned. 
You wiggled again, pushing back until the feeling of the outline of his dick against your ass was ingrained into your memory. 
It didn't take long to wear him down, not at all. He let out a strangled groan and rocked into you, his self restraint long since thrown out the window.
And then you stopped.
He nearly gasped at the loss of friction. The feeling was so devastating that it sobered him, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. 
“Wha-” he panted. His fingers loosened their hold on your hips and twitched against the fabric of your pajama shorts. “Why'd ya stah- stop?”
“I'm sleepy.” You said plainly, pulling the thin sheet up to your shoulders in emphasis. 
Daryl caught his breath behind you, struggling to make sense of it all through his confusion and disappointment. He grumbled something that sounded like it held an attitude, though sadly that was the extent of his protests. 
You needed more. You needed him to tear your clothes off and ravish you like the animal you knew he was. The Daryl that feverishly humped you like his life depended on it was cute, but you needed the Daryl that he was in his daily life. 
The only way you could think of was to force it out of him, even if it did torture the poor man in the process. 
You kept up the innocent teasing for a while. You took a break after Merle went missing, you knew your limits and his. You weren't a total selfish piece of shit. Only when you arrived at the farm and he began talking to you again did you resume your game of “teasing Daryl until he cracks”.
“How's it look?” You gave a cheeky smile as you turned in a circle with your hands on your hips. 
You'd put on the pair of green cargo shorts he'd found you. They weren't very practical, holding only four pockets, which was less than normal cargo shorts, but they were scandalous. The fabric hugged your ass tight enough to look damn near pornographic. 
“Didn't realize they were that tiny. Christ.” Daryl muttered with pink cheeks. “Jus’ give ‘em ta Beth. 
“Oh god. Can you imagine her face? That girl is still wearing pants in late summer. Her daddy would kill me.” You snorted and turned back to face him. “I'm keeping these bad boys. The fabric is soft. Wanna feel?” 
“Already felt em when I took em.” Despite his words, he set down his knife to free up his hands. 
“Give me your hand.” 
The poor boy was so eager to feel you that he practically threw his hands in yours. When you placed his palms on the sides of your shorts he seemed to snap to life, dropping the nonchalant attitude to rub his thumbs over the fabric covering your hips and thighs. 
You tried to keep the smug smirk off your face, and failed miserably. He was turning himself on just by touching the clothing that covered your pelvis. 
Suddenly, you pulled away, feeling your heart lurch in your chest at the way his face dropped.
“Thanks again. I've been needing new shorts.” 
“Yeah. Uh-huh. S'nothin.”
It went on like that for a while. 
One night you climbed into his tent again with the ruse of being cold, and he didn't mention the fact it was a warm seventy degrees that night. You were wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and panties, and made sure to make Daryl aware of this when you slid your knee over his thigh. 
Nothing happened that night either, nothing other than pretending to sleep while he palmed himself through his jeans. 
Another time you put on those green cargo shorts and offered to tidy up his camp, an offer he was quick to accept just so he could watch you needlessly bend over to grab random objects to place somewhere else. 
Once you even made out with him. Late at night in his tent, things got hot and heavy and you straddled him, wearing the same oversized T-shirt and panties, washed since then, of course. 
He was nervous at first, you could tell by the way his hands trembled on their way up your sides. You kissed him slow and sweet, nothing too extreme, not until he pushed his hot tongue against your lips. 
You let him in and groaned at the enthusiasm he showed. He kissed you like you were still teenagers, up in the loft of some barn hiding away from Daddy. 
“Shit.” He panted against your lips. He moved his hands down to your waist and pulled you down hard, groaning when he got that first taste of friction he so desperately craved.
“Slow down.” You breathed. Your body betrayed your words, your hips rolling down gentle and slow, just enough to feel the outline of his aching cock through your clothing. 
“Why?” He muttered before pressing another kiss against your lips. “Wha's stoppin’ ya? I got condoms. Glenn's got the pill. S'fine.” 
You pulled up and away from his lips. He looked so pretty beneath you all desperate like that. It still wasn't what you wanted. 
“I don't know, Daryl-” Your voice choked into a whine when he moved under you, the friction momentarily rendering you speechless. 
“Can't ya feel what yer doin’ to me? Huh?” He snapped his hips again, forcing out another whine. “S’all for you. C'mon now.”
“Not here Daryl.” You tried to keep your voice level and firm. “Not in some tent where we have to be quick and quiet.” 
“Le’s go somewhere then. Anywhere ya want, don't care. Tell me. I'll take ya.” 
Truthfully, that almost made you give in. But it still wasn't the Daryl you wanted to experience. He was desperate, but not desperate enough. 
“Not tonight, Daryl. It's too late and Shane's on watch. He'll have my ass if he catches us sneaking out.” 
Daryl growled in frustration, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “Won't get caught.”
“Yeah, sure. Let's just wait another night.” You pressed a kiss against his cheek, innocent enough, contrasting painfully with the way you ground down against him one last time before sliding off.
Part of you started doubting your plan. Daryl was too reluctant, too full of self doubt, too terrified at the aspect of losing whatever fun thing you had going on by pushing your limits. Even though you had no problem pushing his. 
His patience amazed you. Any other man would've thrown you to the side after the first few times, or ignored your “wishes” and dove right in. He didn't know that's what you wanted. You couldn't blame him. 
How could you tell someone like Daryl “I want you to fuck me with enough desire and aggression to give a nun a heart attack”? He'd been too gentle during foreplay, too submissive, you were beginning to think he was a virgin. 
Maggie gave you a dress. You didn't know who it once belonged to, her or her sister, but it was one of the cutest things you'd ever laid eyes on. A pretty moss green that went right below your knees, laces up your stomach the same color as the dress, and thankfully, no sleeves. 
The domestic look had Daryl in shambles. You looked like a farm wife from a damn magazine, it took everything he had in him not to fuck you behind the barn like he wanted. 
He took you out that day. On a ‘food supply run’, as he called it. You weren't anyone's first pick for runs, which you understood, you were easily distracted. It was your biggest fault.
So when he asked you specifically, and you alone, you were barely able to contain your excitement. 
The first place you stopped by was an old farmers corner store to pick up enough food so you didn't come back empty handed. A few canned goods, stale snacks and three cans of soda. 
He left that in the back of the truck when the two of you stopped by a house. A very nice house, to your surprise. 
“Can't believe this place hasn't been trashed.” You commented while rummaging through the kitchen. “No more food, but there's some lighter fluid.”
“Hm.” Daryl grunted. After securing the front door he found you still in the kitchen, chewing on a mouthful of gum. 
You'd shoved about three long sticks in your mouth. “Want some?”
He eyed the gum wrapped in silver paper before taking it from your outstretched hand with a gruff thanks. 
It was hard to focus on, his heart felt like it was in his throat, it was hard to swallow, and his jaw ached from his aggressive chewing. He'd done everything you wanted, got birth control; condoms and plan B. He found this nice house that same morning, almost immediately after seeing you walk outside in that dress. He even cleaned up the master bedroom for you, dusting off the sheets and beating the pillows, opening the windows to air out the room. 
There was no way you could wave him off now.
Oh, but you found a way. It was a talent that needed to be fucking studied. 
You were digging through the dresser in the upstairs bedroom when he approached you. You ignored the sound of the door shutting and locking behind him, pretending to be very interested in the contents of the bottom drawer. 
His hands found your sides. Your skin tingled as he pulled you to your feet and pressed you against the dresser with his palm on your lower back.
He went to kissing the back of your neck. His lips were light and soft, contrasting the anxiety bubbling in his gut. 
“Hmm.” You hummed. He brushed your hair over your right shoulder and went back to kissing your neck, peppering them all the way to the point of your left shoulder. 
“Missed ya'.” He muttered, pushing his hips forward to drive home his point. 
You tried not to laugh with pity at the feeling. He was already hard? Poor thing. 
“We're supposed to be looking for food.” You chided playfully. You shifted your ass and earned a low grunt of appreciation for the friction. 
“Then why’re ya in the bedroom?” He challenged. When you didn't respond he smirked against the skin on your neck. 
His hands didn't wait for permission. He bent his knees so he could grab the bottom of your dress, gathering it in his fists and pulling it up and over your ass. He sighed at the sight, you were wearing the type of panties he'd only ever seen on a clothing rack or behind a screen. Black soft fabric, tight and with lace around the hem, hugging your curves just right. 
“Daryl, come on.” You chuckled, but made no attempt to move. “They're gonna wonder where we went.”
He laughed, the sound dry and humorless. “Don't give a shit. They'll survive.” 
“And what is it you wanna do so bad that's more important than feeding our people, huh?” You mused, placing your palms on the dresser he was pushing you harder up against. 
“Ain't my people.” He quipped and ground into you, dying to make you feel how desperate he was for you. 
You choked back a moan. “You didn't answer my question.” 
“Want ya. Right here.”
“Want me to what?” 
Daryl sighed and released his hold on your dress to grip your waist. “Wanna fuck ya nice an’ good. Make y’feel what y’been missin’.”
You groaned. Your grip on the dresser turned white-knuckled as he pushed against you again. 
“Yeah?” Your breath trembled past your open lips. “What else?”
Daryl pressed himself closer, until his mouth was right at your ear. “Wanna feel what ya’ been keepin’ from me. Taste ya'. Shove my dick in that pretty lil’ mouth n’make ya sorry.” 
His words had an obvious effect on you. Your knees trembled and your breathing was louder, more shallow. 
But he still hadn't cracked. 
The curiosity was eating you alive. You couldn't give in now, not when he was so fucking close. You turned to face him and gave a ghost of a smile, trying your best to look sympathetic.
“Maybe some other time.” 
His eyes widened and his eyebrows scrunched tightly together. His nostrils flared as his pupils darted over your face, looking frantically for the slightest sign telling him it was a joke. He looked hurt, confused, like you just slapped him in the face and called him a slur.
There it is. 
“You-” he choked out, “Y’aint serious?” 
You forced a nod. 
“Why?” The way he raised his voice sent a bolt of pleasure through your core, and you had to fight back a whimper. “Got everythin’ ya needed. Went through the trouble’a findin’ this place, ain't gotta be quiet, ain't gotta worry ‘bout walkers or someone hearin’, the hell else you want from me woman?” 
You couldn't stop yourself from whimpering. You bit your bottom lip and tried to steady your breathing, but when you stole a glance at his face and saw the expression held there your lungs shifted into overdrive. 
He looked so fed up. 
“What are you gonna do about it?” You whispered. 
Daryl sneered in contempt. “The hell can I do ‘bout it? Not gonna beg.”
You swallowed hard. You slowly shook your head, your chest rising and falling dramatically, your body still trapped between his arms, his hands on the dresser behind you. 
“Don't want you to beg.” 
You pressed a hand between his legs and he let out a strangled groan, his elbows swaying as they threatened to give out. You flexed your fingers to massage his length, and pulled away. 
His eyes shot open and just as quick his hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back to his bulge and nearly breaking your fingers in the process of shoving them down the waistband of his jeans. 
After unbuckling his belt he was able to cram your hand down deeper, forcing you to feel him. 
You gasped when your fingertips made contact. You didn't know a dick could get that hard. It felt just as firm as any other extremity. 
“Daryl.” You let out a long sigh as you gave a half assed attempt to pull your hand out. His grip on your wrist tightened. 
“Hmm?” The teasing tone of his hum made your clit throb. 
“We can't-” You didn't get to finish your sentence before he scoffed and picked you up. Like actually picked you up in his arms, bridal style. He threw you on the plush bed where you bounced a few times, and dove into you.
“S’enough.” He muttered. He pulled your dress up over your waist and looped his fingers through the sides of your panties. You thought he'd hesitate, take a look at the expression on your face and back off, but he didn't. He tugged them down your legs and tossed them off the bed in a random location. 
“Ain't some pussy ya’ got on a leash.” His fingers snaked between your legs, beelining for your cunt. He groaned in surprise, his eyes rolling back at the feeling. You were beyond wet at this point, his aggression had your folds like a slip n slide with lube instead of water. 
You bit back a moan. His fingers spread your folds, smearing your wetness around, his thumb pressing down against your clit. 
“Fuck!” You gasped. Your hips instinctively shifted to the side from the overwhelming sensation, but a firm grip on your waist quickly snatched you back. 
“Think y'can do whatever the hell ya’ want, and I'll jus’ sit back an’ let ya’?” He didn't give you time to answer. He pushed a finger inside you, and both of you hissed at the feeling. “Ffuck. Shit ain't like that no more, princess.” 
Any other time you would've snapped at the insult, but his finger digging around inside you had your mind blank. 
“Wha’s wrong? Huh?” He twisted his finger and you cried out. His voice was sickly sweet, something that should've pissed you off but only fueled your arousal. “Got nothin' to say?” His finger curled, a movement that held no thought behind it, though the way you gasped and arched your back had him repeating the action. 
Then he started mocking you. “Oh no, not now, it's not right, I'm not ready!” He scoffed in disgust. “Like ya’ a lot better when ya’aint speakin’.” 
Oh, god. You should be fuming. You should be spitting venom right back at him, but this is everything you'd wanted from him. It was all going according to plan. 
Maybe he knew that, or maybe he didn't. Either way he was behaving just as you'd imagined countless times, rough, mean, cruel and demanding. 
“C'mon, try a little bit.” He growled after leaning down to bite at your open neck. “Go on. Tell me it ain't the time. Tell me.”
You were nothing but a puddle under him. Your hands became too restless and reached up to grab at him, balling your fists in the back of his shirt.
Never in your life had a man treated you like this. No matter how bad you teased and gave subliminal signals. They would either indulge in your teasing, respect your wishes and back off when told to, or kiss and plead until you relented. 
Finally someone was fucking you like you had always wanted. Or, they were about to. 
The knuckle of his thumb had been digging into your clit for a good minute now, and despite how uncomfortable it could feel at times, you came quickly. 
You sucked in a sharp gasp and locked your legs around his waist, trying to pull his finger in deeper, or make his knuckle grind harder. 
Daryl groaned into your neck as you came around his finger. His hips jerked forward and bumped against his hand between your thighs, knocking his digit in deeper. You yelped, not expecting such a sharp sensation during your warm and soft climax. 
He withdrew his finger and you whined. 
“Sh-sh-sh.” You didn't think a hush could sound so condescending. “Got somethin' better. Gonna make you regret not takin’ it sooner.”
You said it before you could stop yourself. “You don't have it in you.” 
His eyes flicked up to your face as he pulled his zipper down, a look on his face that sent chills across your bare legs.
There was slight amusement, slight relief, as if someone finally gave him permission to show off and prove himself. Lips parted into a breathy smirk, tongue peeking between his teeth, and one eyebrow raised. 
Your eyes dropped to his pants when he pulled his cock free. It looked just as you imagined when you'd touched it only minutes ago, standing at full attention against his lower stomach.
You let out a sigh when you saw it reached his navel. 
Daryl leaned down until he was level with your pussy. You heard it before you felt it, the sound of him spitting, and then warm drool dropping right on your sensitive clit.
You squealed in protest, trying to raise yourself on your elbows, but he stopped you with a hand on your chest. With his free hand he smeared his spit over your already soaking folds, even going as far as to push some inside you with his finger. 
“Ew!” You gasped. 
You felt a tingle. Subtle at first, you just assumed it was the salinity of his saliva, and then more prominent. You were close to panicking until you saw the wad of white gum shoot out of his mouth, landing with a smack against the hardwood floor. 
At least you knew the source of the tingling. You swallowed your own gum, the same way you'd completely forgotten about.
The skin around your cunt buzzed when he slapped the tip of his dick on your clit, and you squirmed beneath him. He steadied you with the same hand on your chest. 
“Wait.” You inhaled deeply. He didn't wait though, he just pushed into your clenched hole, ignoring your whines.
“Ssss-shut up.” His voice trembled. He used his free hand to wrap around the base of his dick, holding it straight as he slowly pushed in further. 
“Y-you said you had condoms.” 
Daryl let out a loud groan as he sank into you. His right hand on your chest increased in pressure as more and more of his upper body weight bore down on it, forcing the air from your lungs. 
He was so thick, and it had been years for you. The burn was incredible, in such a pleasurable way that you should've felt ashamed to enjoy. You tried to moan, but nothing came out aside from a strained breath. 
“Ain't nothin' gonna make me feel rubber instead’a this.” He grunted. He rolled his hips forward and finally pulled his hand off your chest to roll the dress up and over your body. 
“F-Fuck.” His whimper was strangled in his throat. Being completely naked under someone who was fully dressed had you clenching around him, earning another whimper from said man. 
“Should feel ‘shamed, keepin' all this from me.” 
You didn't. Not one bit. 
“But I know ya'aint.” 
You furrowed your brows, momentarily stunned by his apparent mind reading abilities. He jerked his hips forward and your face fell slack, your jaw dropping and your eyelids falling shut. 
His thrusts were harsh, but far too slow for you to get anywhere. You grabbed his shirt and used it to pull him down, desperate for more stimulation. 
Daryl happily obliged. His breath was hot on your ear before he took the lobe between his lips, sucking and licking the flesh. You gasped as he bit down on it, and you could sense the smirk on his lips. 
“Daryl?” You breathed, the name breaking on your tongue with another thrust. 
“Jesus.” He groaned, thoroughly annoyed. He released your ear and pulled back to look at you, frustration evident on his face. “What?”
“Thought I was gonna regret it.”
Your words had his upper lip twitching and his eyes widening ever so slightly. 
“Yeah?” He huffed. “S'gonna be like that?”
He rose from your chest, shifting until he was sitting on his boots. His hands grabbed onto your hips and yanked you down on his dick, forcing a cry from your dry throat. It took him a few seconds to position himself, leaning back just a bit, his grip on your hips tight, and then he started fucking you in a ruthless pace. 
It wasn't what you were expecting. Your mouth dropped into a long gape and your eyes shot open as he pounded his pelvis against yours, driving his dick so deep it reached places your fingers never had. 
Each thrust had a gasp burning in your lungs, and those gasps quickly grew to embarrassing moans. Now that you were ashamed of. If you had the ability to stop it you could, but the way he was thrusting into you rendered you utterly unable to control yourself and the sounds you made. 
“Get up.” 
You weren't sure why he even spoke, because he was moving your body by himself before you could process his command. He pulled you to the side of the bed and turned you over on your stomach, bending you over and shoving his dick back inside you so fast you shrieked. 
Your feet flew up behind you, smacking against the back of his thighs. If you could've seen it you would've laughed. 
The new angle was paralyzing. His dick was no longer tilted against the spot under your stomach, the spot that had you a drooling mess seconds ago. Now it smashed against a deeper part of you, a part that had you groaning with each frustration fueled thrust. 
“Fuck.” Daryl groaned, his pace slowing to give momentary reprieve. He wasn't as young as you, and even though he was always out there doing a hundred times more labor intensive activity, he needed a second to catch his breath. 
There was still an itch yet to be scratched. While he regained his bearings you fought to think of a way to say it without actually saying ‘i want you to hurt me and fuck me till I cry’. You'd already humiliated yourself enough. 
When he began picking up the pace again, you reached for the hand beside your head and bit down on his knuckles. Not gently, either. You bit down so hard he could've ripped a tooth out with the way he yanked his hand away.
“The fuck?” His voice was barely below a shout. “Ya’ crazy bitch!” 
There was no retaliation besides a particularly forceful thrust, to your irritation. 
“You baby.” You managed to grunt out. “Barely bit you.” 
“Barley bi-” he scoffed, looking down at the hand he now had splayed across your lower back. There were deep pink imprints from your teeth over his index finger knuckle, and the skin around it turned a bright red. 
You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand away from its grip on the bed sheets. Your heart hammered quicker than his thrusts when his breath tickled your skin, and then he bit you. In the same spot you bit him.
It wasn't nearly as hard as you bit him, but you still whimpered at the ache. 
“Point stands.” 
Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing. His jaw set and he dropped your wrist. 
The smug smirk you'd been keeping to yourself fell when your hair was suddenly twisted in the fist of his right hand. With just that leverage alone he pulled your upper body up, and his left arm snaked around your torso to keep you flush against his chest. 
He yanked your head to the side. You gasped. 
“This what ya’ wanted, huh sweetheart?” He breathed against your ear and drew back until his dick nearly slipped out before slamming back in.  
“Mmm-oh god yes.” You blurted out between moans. 
“Jus' had to ask.” He managed a chuckle. 
“More.” 
He furrowed his brows, but kept up the slow and deep pace. He couldn't imagine what else he could give you. He was fucking you hard enough to bruise, he was pulling your hair, what, did you want him to start beating you? 
He dipped his head down to bite your shoulder, holding back just enough so that he wouldn't give you an actual wound. 
You have to consider that biting someone with enough force to actually break the skin takes a lot. Skin isn't like the flesh of a fruit. It's tough, and would require chewing to break through. So for him to stop right before that point meant he was biting you so hard you got blood blisters, and the pain was all you could focus on. 
Your wail of genuine pain had him pulling back like he'd been shocked. His thrusts slowed, and through ragged breaths he spoke, “Shit, m'sorry. M'so sorry.” 
“No.” You gasped. Your shoulder felt like it was on fire, and your walls cleaned around him in response. “So good. Feels so good.”
Daryl let out a huff in relief. “Ya’ weird as shit, yanno that?” 
“Mhmm.” You groaned, pressing your ass back tightly against him. “More.” 
He took a deep breath to steady himself and pushed you back down on your stomach. He had to work himself up to it, the idea intimidating. Once his thrusts were back to their former sharp pace he raised a hand in the air. 
You tilted your head to the side so your cheek was pressed against the blanket. When you saw his right hand held up, your heart leapt. You never nodded so quickly. 
Daryl ground his teeth together, glancing down at your ass, your face, and back to your ass again before smacking his hand against it. 
It was barely a love tap. 
You groaned, wiggling your hips and earning a moan from him in response to the feeling on his dick. 
He took the hint and gave another smack, harder, but still not giving that burn or satisfying ‘smack’ sound you wanted.
“Daryl, please.” You whimpered. “Hurt me. I'm not made of glass.” 
You barely got the last word out before he slapped you. Open handed, fingers spread and slightly curved to mold perfectly against your asscheek. You yelped and instinctively tried scooting up the bed, held back by his left hand on your hip. 
It clicked in his head then. No wonder people liked spanking so much. His palm tingled and he could see a faint handprint start to color your skin. And the way you reacted, that sound you made, your body trying to get away from him, it made his dick twitch. 
“Fuck!” You cried out after another hard slap. The pain fully distracted you from the ache in your shoulder, white hot pain spreading across your ass and up your spine. 
“Such a baby.” He meant it to sound patronizing, but he was still too amazed by the new turn on he'd discovered, and the words came out breathless. 
Your whimper bled into another cry as he spanked you again. 
And again. 
Again, again, until you were on the verge of tears, sobs bubbling from your wet lips as you tried to squirm away from him. 
As if you actually wanted to. Which you clearly didn't. You were practically gushing around his dick. 
He rubbed his palm over the deep red skin, barely soothing the blinding burn he'd left behind. “Goddamn.” 
“M'gonna cum.” You were literally drooling. 
He snapped his attention away from your ass and back to you. “Whaddya want, huh?” He quickened his pace once again, jolting forward to press his body against your back. You whimpered at the way he moved, his dick pushing deeper inside you. 
“More, please,” you stuttered, trying desperately to work your hand under your body, which proved to be difficult due to his weight on top of you. 
Daryl noticed and lifted your hips with his hands. He shoved your eager arm out of the way and rubbed your clit with his own fingers, fast and deep in a way he assumed you'd like. 
You moaned under him, arching your back, feeling him slip in further. It was as if he grew another inch every five minutes. Or you grew another inch deeper, and he was staying the same. Either way he was deeper, and it felt immaculate. 
The rise to your climax was slow, but powerful. You were fully prepared to gently tip over the edge and slide down in bliss. 
That was before he slapped your pussy. Then you fell down gasping. 
Daryl held onto your body like you were a wild mustang, trashing and twisting under him in ecstasy. He withdrew his hand and grabbed your hips again, resuming his brutal pace, clamping his teeth down on the back of your neck to keep your bodies anchored together. 
It took a while for you to come down from your high. When you did it was violent, the pure bliss smashed away by burning overstimulation. 
“Fu-uck!” You heaved in deep breaths. “Daryl s’too much, can't, wait!”
“Ever since that night ya’ came in my tent, blue ballin’ me like that,” he growled against your neck, “-been dreamin’ ‘bout havin ya’ like this. Fallin’ apart. Face full’a tears. Ain't stoppin now.” 
He wasn't bluffing. He didn't stop. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, ramming into your abused cunt, only slowing to shift in positions so you were on your back. 
The air felt amazing against your chest. Daryl ripped that feeling away with gnashing teeth, biting your hard nipples and alternating between sucking and pinching.
The house had to be surrounded by walkers by now. There was no way it wasn't, you were crying and moaning like you were getting paid for it. 
“Oh, god.” You wailed as another orgasm built up quicker than ever inside you. “Oh please, fuck, god!”
A jolt of pleasure shot through your core when Daryl's hands wrapped around your throat. 
Now, Daryl was no stranger to strangling someone. He'd choked plenty of people out before.
In fights.
He was unaware there was a different type of choking for pleasure. Instead of squeezing the sides of your throat with his thumb and fingers, he wrapped both hands around your neck and fucking strangled you. 
You squeezed your eyes shut so tight they ached as you came. Your orgasm had started off blinding, overwhelming every inch of your body, but Daryl's crushing grip soon muted the tail end of your climax and filled your ears with a deafening ringing. 
Daryl pulled his teeth off your nipple and panted against your ear. “Lemme cum inside ya’, sweetheart.”
You could barely process what he'd said. You forced your eyes open against the pressure induced burn, trying to find his face, only to see the side of his head. 
“Can't pull out.” He growled and released some of the pressure around your throat. Oxygen and blood flooded your head, leaving you dizzy and with black around the edges of your vision. 
“Can't, m'sorry. Oh, huh-  fuck!” His voice was strained as every muscle in his body tensed up. His hips surged forward, stuffing his dick balls deep to coat the end of your walls in his cum. “Mmm-fuck s’good. So good. Ohhh, Hah-” 
He choked on his moan. He moved his head, replacing his hands around your neck with his mouth, kissing and biting at the tender skin as he spurted ropes of hot cum inside you. 
Your body broiled under his crushing form. Your thighs relaxed from their clamped position, falling off his waist and dropping to the bed beneath you. Your lungs ached and your throat was raw, but your pussy buzzed so intently it felt like you had a vibrator pressed against it. 
“Oh, god.” The tone was full of dread and you forced yourself to focus on Daryl. 
“What?” You croaked. There was a stabbing pain in your neck from Daryl choking you out like you were a man his size. 
“Yer all fucked up.” He whined. He traced his fingers across your throat. “S’bad. Oh fuck.”
“Calm down.” You sat upright after he pulled back enough for you to do so, his dick dragging out against your trembling walls in the process and making you hiss.
“It's okay. I'll just tell em a walker got the jump on me. We've all seen them grab throats. It's fine.” You pressed a kiss to his worried lips. 
“Gonna tell em a walker did that too?” He pointed an exhausted finger at the bite mark on your shoulder, which was now in the early stages of a deep bruise, not to mention the blood blister in the shape of his teeth.
You laughed softly. “Fuck no. I'll just skip the tank tops for a week or two.”
That seemed to settle him enough and he nodded, moving to lay on his back. 
“That was amazing.” You broke the long silence. “Seriously. You're the first man to ever… you know.”
Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at you. “Huh? Y’never…?”
“No! I mean…” you sighed. “Never had a man make me come.”
Now he was at full attention, sitting upright and leaning back on his palms. “Nah, no shit.”
“I'm serious.”
He let out a light scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jesus.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched you climb off the bed to grab your thrown panties. “Me too.”
You glanced over your shoulder as you stepped into them. “Really? You never…?”
He nodded, going back to biting his cheek. 
“How'd you last so fucking long?”
A cocky grin crept across his lips at the compliment behind your words. He was worried he didn't last long enough. And you just asked him how he held on so long.
“Jerked off like, ten fuckin’ times today.” 
That meant he knew he was going to fuck you today. Heat spread through your core again, despite how worn out you were. You smiled and climbed back on the bed to smother him with kisses. 
“You're so fucking hot.” You mumbled against his lips, which were moving weakly against your own. 
“Says the bitch that wouldn't fuck me.” He chuckled. 
“Just wanted you to make the decision for me. It's a lot hotter that way.” You hummed, pulling your swollen lips away from his. “It worked.” 
“Psh.” He rolled his eyes and began stuffing his soft cock back in his jeans. “Put yer clothes on. Place is probably crawlin' with walkers. Le’s get the hell outta dodge before anymore show up.”
Now that Daryl was in on your little game, you couldn't wait to play again. 
@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami
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eddiesxangel · 11 months ago
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Could you do a smutty Eddie Munson fic where he’s your older brother’s bsf?
maybe reader has had a crush on Eddie for a while and when she finally decides to move on and date someone Eddie gets jealous?
What Eddie Doesn’t Know | Eddie x f!reader
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AN: I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took a while to complete. Thank you for the request; I haven’t been inspired by anything non-Christmas-themed in a while. I was literally barking at the trope.
wc: 7.1k oops
Cw: f!reader, reader is 19 and in collage and Eddie is 22 and a full time mechanic, reader goes by a nickname, jealous Eddie, jealous reader, angst, cheating (on the reader but not by Eddie), smut (pet names, oral, dirty talk, p in v), the fluffy ending!
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Pathetic. That was how you felt at this moment in time. Here you were at your college homecoming party, and all you could do was be a wallflower, watching in self-pity as the love of your life. ( who doesn’t know is the love of your life) is pressed up on some girl in the back of the room.
"What are you doin' here, Tink?" you pop out of your daze to see your older brother, Adam, addressing you.
Did your parents name you Tink? No. Were you so obsessed with Peter Pan as a child you demanded to go by Tinkerbell? Yes. The nickname kinds just stuck.
"I go here?" You sass him back.
"This party is for upperclassmen only. How did you get in?" Adam was only three years older.
"Eddie's here, and he doesn't even attend school..." You gave him a pointed look.
"Yeah, cuz he is my best friend... like I said, how did you get in?"
"It's a house party, not Studio 54... I walked in."
"I'm going to kill Cory," He mumbled under his breath. Cory was supposed to be manning the door.
"Yeah, you should definitely get better security, all I had to do was let him feel up my tits, and we walked right on in..."
The Neanderthal didn't actually touch you, but the look on Adam's face when you let Adam believe he did? Priceless. You only lied so Adam would leave you alone.
What actually happened was you, Nancy, and Robin scaled the fence and got in through the back door.
"Cory!" Before you knew it, Adam was out of your hair, and you were back to being a wallflower….
"Tink there you are! You wanna continue to mope in the corner, or do you wanna get out of here?" your two best friends/roomies, Robin and her girlfriend Nancy, approach you.
"I guess let's just go." you sigh.
You can no longer bear the sight of Eddie, the boy you've been crushing on since the sixth grade, and your older brother’s best friend, leading the random girl up the stairs hand in hand.
Your stomach lurched at the thought of her hands running all over his body, how he would be on her, kissing her... inside of her. He didn't even know you were here... You should have gone up to him, maybe said hello. Perhaps he would have seen the ridiculous amount of effort you put into your ensemble just to catch his eye. But your efforts were lacking because, to him, you're always going to be Adam's annoying little sister.
You knew you had to get over this, but how could you? He has been in your life for fifteen years and always will be. Adam and Eddie have been friends for as long as you can remember. Your brother stuck by him throughout Eddie's family struggles. Your parents even took him in for a few weeks before CPS found his uncle took over full custody. He was basically your big brother, too, until your pesky teenage hormones started to kick in, and boom! You've been head over heels ever since.
''Good, let's get some greasy burgers and fries to end the night, ok?" Robin smiled.
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In the 24-hour diner on campus, you were sitting at your regular booth with the girls across from you, eating your feelings, trying not to think about what Eddie was doing with that girl.
"So that party was a bust, huh?" Nancy spoke first.
"Yeah, totally... probably because Adam's house hosted." You giggled.
"Not to mention Eddie still didn't see you -OUCH." Robin looked over at Nancy, who was giving her a look of distaste. "Sorry, I meant he is an idiot, and you need to get over him! There are plenty of eligible guys on campus who you could date!"
"Even though my girlfriend is being is harsh, she is right, Tink. It's been so long, and you'll kill yourself over this if you keep this up."
"Ugh, I know! Do you think I'm a masochist or something? I hate to break it to you, but I do not enjoy this. I hate it. I hate that he is the one I think about every day when I wake up. I hate it when I go to sleep; he is the last person on my mind. He takes over my thoughts, and I don't know how to stop it!" You shove a fry into your mouth so you can take a breather.
"What if we found you a new guy? Someone to take your mind off Eddie?" Nancy perked up at her idea.
You heard the diner doorbells chime from behind you.
"I don't know..." Putting all your time and energy into someone new seemed like a lot of emotional work you wanted to avoid going through.
"Yes! Oh my god, Tink, you have to. It's the only way you'll get over him!"
"Get over who?" The silky, sweet voice of a male came from behind you.
You and the girls froze as Eddie, your brother, and a few other guys approached the table.
"No one." You mumbled, trying to fight off the blood rushing across your chest and cheeks.
"You can tell us, Tink! Who are we fighting?" Eddie laughed.
"Tink? What kind of stupid name is that?" one of Adam's jerk friends spoke.
"Excuse me?" you turn to see the guy you've never met.
You heard Adam burst out laughing with the rest of them, but not Eddie.
"Hey man, not cool!" Eddie stood up for you.
And there went the butterflies in your stomach. Eddie was always your protector. Even as kids, when Adam picked on you, he always stood up for you. Even if you weren't around, Eddie always put Adam in his place when it came to you.
You saw, out of the corner of your eye, Eddie shifted his weight down so he could sit beside you. Then, you felt a protective arm wrap around your shoulder.
Fuck. This shit right here is why you can never get over Eddie Munson.
You dared to look up; there he was in all his glory. The way the fluorescent light from above had cast down on him made him look like an angel. He smiled at you, but not before you noticed the dishevelled sex hair he tried to fix and the small amount of pink lipstick that stained the skin on his neck that he didn't quite get off. And the smell… sickly sweet perfume that was definitely not his signature musk.
You quickly turn your head back to your plate because you think you're about to puke up everything you just ingested…
"You, if you don't leave us alone." Robin piped up. She saw the look of pure disappointment in your eyes. You didn't need Eddie to rub in the fact that he hooked up with someone, especially since now he is smelling like a cheap hooker.
Robin and Nancy thought it was incredibly rude of your brother to flaunt Eddie in front of you like this. Of course, he knew your mega super infinity crush on his best friend. Yet here he is with his drunk-ass buddies, antagonizing you about the guy you needed to get over.
"Woah, Birdie, take it easy; we are just saying hello," Adam chimed in.
“You said hello at the party. Now leave!” You gritted through your teeth.
“You were at the party?” Eddie asked. His voice hitched high. High enough, it was embarrassingly so. Thankfully, his friends were too drunk and hungry to realize. A deep blush crossed his face when he saw you noticed the tone in his voice change. You just have a slight nod and continue to play with the food on your plate.
That’s why you were so dressed up. Eddie thought you looked so pretty, too pretty to be sad about some looser in a diner at one in the morning.
"Do we have a problem here?" A voice none of you recognized came from the booth beside you.
You all look over and see a cute guy with blonde hair and blue eyes wearing your school's rugby jersey. He was so not your type, but you can still admire beauty for what it is. He was a jock; that was clear as he stood up. He was big, more significant than your brother and Eddie, that's for sure.
"Nah, man, it's cool. This is my little sister and her friends." Adam slurs. Clearly, he had more shots since he left you to find Cory.
"I don't care who you are. You're clearly bothering them."
"It's okay, they were just leaving," Nancy said confidently.
"Whatever, let's go, guys," Adam commanded the pac, but Eddie lingered. He didn't like this blondie guy. He didn't like the way he was looking at you.
"Ed, come on!'
Eddie got up and slowly made his way to his friends.
"I'm Jesse," Eddie heard the musclehead speak, and he cringed internally. Something wasn't right. The feelings of anger and protectiveness were filling his mind.
Eddie looked back again and saw you smelling at the stranger as he reached out to shake your hand before sitting beside you.
What kind of freak is alone in a diner at 1:15 am? Eddie thought.
But it didn't seem to phase you or the girls; you were all blinded by his shiny hair and pearly white smile.
Eddie walked out and felt like he wanted to punch something. He needed to get away. He needed to know what the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he feeling this way? Why were you the one causing him distress? You were just Tink? Or so Eddie thought.
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Jesse turned out to be really cool. You exchanged numbers, and he asked you to go to the movies next Friday. You hadn’t been on a date in forever; you had been so hung up on Eddie that any other guy seemed uninteresting. But this time, you were determined that Jesse would be the one to break the cycle. He was much different than you’re generally into, but you have some of the same interests, like movies and music, so you thought you’d go for it.
Jesse picked you up, bought the tickets, and insisted on buying the snacks and drinks. He held your hand and then slowly made his way to wrap his arm around your shoulder. It gave you butterflies you hadn’t felt from anyone else. Before you knew it, you willingly leaned in to make out with him in the back of the theatre.
You were so focused on Jesse that you didn’t notice Eddie was also on a date in the same theatre. But Eddie noticed you. He was seething the whole time. He didn’t pay any attention to his date or the movie. He hogged the popcorn and munched away as he watched you giggle and flirt with the blockhead jock. Eddie didn’t care that he had pissed off his date. He hardly said two words to her when they parted ways, not even offering to drive her home.
He didn’t want to go out with her but had hooked up with her at the party and felt terrible about it then. Now, he can’t even remember her name or why he went upstairs with her in the first place.
You were there, at the party, but he didn’t see you. Now he sees you everywhere, and it’s pissing him off. Why were you on his mind all of the time? For the past week, why have his dreams been consumed by you and you alone? Why did he want to hold you, be with you, talk to you, dare he say… kiss you? You were Adam’s little sister. Well, not so little anymore. You were a late bloomer, but boy, did you bloom.
Eddie hated how the blonde meathead’s hand rested too low on your back. His hands grazed your skirt a little too closely. Eddie wanted to jump the guy, but he couldn’t. He was twice his size. He would be pulverized, and that would be mortifying in front of you. You wouldn’t want him like that anyway, even if he did win in a fight over you!
What the fuck was Eddie thinking? He wasn't… that's the problem. He's now thinking about getting into a physical altercation over you. He isn't able to sleep now without thinking about you. He needed to get his head on straight and quit fucking around. He hoped that if he just focused on the cars at work, this little thing would go away on its own. Maybe he can't remember that he had slipped and hit his head? Yeah, that's it. He hit his head, and now his brain is just confused. He didn't like you like that! This will all go away by tomorrow.
Wrong.
Eddie was plagued with thoughts of you. He caught himself in numerous daydreams about you while doing mindless tuneups and tire changes at the shop. It was getting out of hand; it’s been another week, and he still can’t get you off his mind… Eddie needed to be proactive. The guys were starting to give him shit about it too. They knew he was focused on a girl. They could sense it.
There was another party tonight that Adam mentioned. He will go home and get cleaned up. Then he will go to the party, he will find a nice pretty girl who will let him bury himself inside her, to forget about his thoughts of splitting your open with his cock, and this will all be over.
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You walked into the party hand in hand with Jesse. He was starting to make waves in your life, being only two weeks, but still. He would walk you to your classes and help you study in the library. He would walk you home and kiss you goodbye like the perfect gentleman. He hadn't tried making any advances as of yet. The two of you had only made it to first base. Maybe tonight you would get lucky? You felt ready.
“You want something to drink?” Jesse guided you to the kitchen.
The house was hot and sticky; you were worried about your hair getting frizzy. You worked so hard on it to look good for Jesse. He even complimented it when he picked you up. Forever the gentleman.
“Whatever they have is good.” You smiled up at him.
As the two of you walked into the packed kitchen, you tried to squeeze your way around but got stuck in the crowd. It was much easier for Jesse to get by just with his size alone.
“Excuse me,” you repeated three times, but no one was budging.
“You should be a little bit more assertive,” the voice behind you said. It sent a shiver down your spine.
As you turned, you saw Eddie smirking down at you. He was drunk. You could see that and smell it.
“Hi, Eddie.” You smiled meekly before you felt the weight of Jesse’s arm wrap around you, passing you your drink.
“There you are,” Jesse smiled. "Who's this?"
"That's just Eddie...Eddie, Jesse. Jesse, Eddie." You introduced awkwardly.
Just Eddie. The words stung.
"How do the two of you know each other?" Jesse gestures between the two of you.
"Brothers best friend." You smile.
"That's all I am to you? You wound me, Tink."
The fuck was that supposed to mean?
"Eddie, man! I got us two hotties over by the pool. Let's go!" In comes your obnoxious brother with perfect timing, as always.
"I guess I'll see you around." Eddie sighed.
"Nice meeting you, man." Jesse stuck out his hand.
"Whatever." Eddie brushed him off and left with Adam.
"I'm sorry about him. That was very rude. I don't?- He's usually not like that?"
"It's okay; I can tell a jealous guy when I see one." Jesse shrugged.
You almost spat out your drink. "Jealous?!"
"Oh, it's clear as day, honey."
"No... there is no way. He's never and will never like me... like that." It broke your heart to say that out loud. Your chest felt so heavy as the words came out of your mouth.
As the rest of the night went on, you and Eddie tried avoiding one another like the plague. Those words about him being jealous were swimming around in your head for most of the night, and Eddie was trying to avoid his feelings by being with another girl, but not one stood out to him.
Adam tried getting lucky but struck out when Eddie refused to go with the friend.
"What the fuck is your problem, man? She was like a solid eight out of ten."
"I wasn't into it..." Eddie's eyes found you, and he couldn't break his gaze. You were curled up in the blockhead's lap, sitting by the fire pit, all cozy and giggly. What he would give to have you in his arms like that.
"Oh fuck, not you now." Adam groaned in frustration, seeing where Eddie's googly eyes were directed.
"Huh?" Eddie said absentmindedly, not really paying attention.
"You can't be serious?! That's my little sister, dude; come on!" Adam was always one for the dramatics; that's why he and Edie got on so well.
"Woah, man, I never said anything about your sister."
"Well, it sure is clear by the way you're making heart eyes at her."
"Yeah, right," Eddie scoffed.
"Trust me, dude, it's that same way she looks at you." Adman shook his head. He thought he would be clear of this. That this would never happen, and yet here it is, happening.
"Wait, what? What do you mean?-"
"She's been in love with you since she was twelve... come one like you didn't know?"
"No way, you smoked too much tonight, or something? Maybe my stuff is off?"
"She likes you, dude. Never fucking shuts up about you."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Didn't think it was relevant... I was never going to allow her to be with you! You serious? It's Tink, she's so...ew. You're so above that."
"She's not ew," Eddie snapped. He hated how hard Adam had always been on you.
"Whatever, man, too late now. About time she has moved on."
Eddie stood up and walked out of the party without a word. He heard Adam call out, but he ignored him completely. He needed to process what Adam told him. He needed to sober up so he could think clearly. He needed to either make you his or find a way to get over you... and fast.
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That night of the party, you didn't end up getting lucky. You tried making advances, but you inevitably were shot down. He said he didn't want your first time to be when you both had been drinking and in some random bathroom. So you accepted it, even though your horny gremlin was starting to come back to life. But what did happen was he asked you to make it official with him, and you said yes!
Tonight, you had to leave the apartment for your roommate's sake. It was their anniversary, and you told them you could have the place to themselves for a romantic evening. When you told Jesse, your new boyfriend, you needed a place to crash, he offered you his bed. You would go to your classes and then return to his for your first sleeepover as a couple. You were so excited!
Jesse ended class at one in the afternoon that day, and you ended at five, so it worked out perfectly. Luckily enough for you, your professor for your last lecture was ill, so they cancelled class that day. You thought it would be fun to surprise him by showing up early.
When you got to his house, his roommate let you in and said he was in his room with his friend Connor. So when you knocked on the door and walked in a few seconds later, you did not expect to see the two men in bed, naked...
You screamed and covered your eyes, absolutely mortified that you had walked in on them. You were so unbelievably hurt that you had been deceived. Why would he ask you to be exclusive if he was sleeping around?! And on the night when you thought you would get to have sex with your new boyfriend.
You did not give Jesse any time to explain himself as he tried to get out of the tangled sheets and arms of the other man. You heard your name being called out, but you ran out of there like a bat out of hell.
Tears stung your cheeks as the cold autumn air began to settle in. The rumble of the dark clouds was also looking quite ominous.
Just your luck. Of course, you would find your boyfriend in the arms of another man, and of course, the universe would make you walk him in the rain. How poetic.
A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance, and that's when the rain came down in buckets. At least it could cover up your tears. You continued walking, but you couldn't think of a place to go? You could not ruin your roommate's night. There is no way Adam would let you stay in his frat house, not that you would want to anyway, and your friends from the class went home for the weekend. Shit... maybe you could spend the majority of the night in the diner and then just walk home really late once they were defiantly sleeping. But your clothes were soaked and---
“Tink, what’s wrong?” you were snapped out of your thoughts by none other than the man who was the cause of this whole mess.
Eddie rolled down the work van window. He was covered in motor oil and dirty from working all day. His muscles ached, and he badly needed a hot shower, but now all he could focus on was you and why you were upset.
“Leave me alone, Eddie.” He hadn’t ever heard you speak to him like this?
“Tink, come on, it’s a literal thunder storm. Let me take you home.”
“Can’t, girls are having date night… told them to have the place to themselves.” You continued to walk as the chill from the rain was beginning to seep through to your bones. Your teeth betray you as the chatter starts.
“Where were you supposed to be right now?”
“None of your business!”
“Tink, don’t make me pull over!”
“Screw you, Eddie!”
“That’s it.” Eddie parked the car and got out. “You’re coming with me.” Eddie picked you up over his shoulder, and you let out a screech.
“Eddie! Put me down, you caveman!” You screamed. If anyone saw you, it looked like you were being kidnapped and taken into a murder van.
“No, can do Tink. I’m taking you home to warm you up. Then you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on.” He commanded. And if you weren’t so mad, you’d say you were a little turned on by his voice.
You hear the car door open before he plops you into the passenger seat.
“Get in” he points to your legs hanging out of the car.
“Make me.” you shiver.
“You’re being such a child! Let me help you.”
“Fine!” You swing your legs into the van, and Eddie slams the door closed, making you wince.
The car ride was quiet besides the radio and your chattering teeth. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but it was of no help. Your t-shirt and jeans clung to you like a second skin, and the car heater was only blowing cool air. You swore you thought your nipples could cut glass.
Eddie said nothing as he tugged you over on the bench seat and wrapped a warm arm around you. You broke out into another chill, but this time, you weren't sure if it was from the rain or from Eddie.
Even though Eddie was self-conscious of smelling like motor oil and body odour, he was more worried about you catching hypothermia.
Once you were inside Eddie's warm apartment, he noticed how your body was on display. You would be the clear winner if you were in a wet t-shirt contest, that's for sure. Eddi's eyes were wide with desire, but he returned to reality when you asked if you could use his shower to warm up.
Eddie nodded absentmindedly as he thought about you being naked in his shower.
"Uh, you mind if I borrow a towel and some dry clothes? I have mine, but they got soaked through my overnight bag..."
"Yeah! Uh- I mean, sure, yeah, whatever..."
You blushed slightly at Eddie, trying to play it cool. He ran to his bedroom and returned with a handful of different fabrics. You took them and then headed into the bathroom.
The hot water defrosted your bones, and when you stepped into Eddie's clothes, his sent hit you like a tidal wave. You brought the old black corroded coffin band tee that he had from high school up to your nose and inhaled deeply. You felt immediate comfort being here, with Eddie, wearing his clothes.
As you stepped out of the bathroom, hair wrapped in the towel, Eddie couldn't help but smile at the sight of you.
"Not a word," you warn.
Eddie mock zipped his lips, then gestured to the couch for you to sit beside him.
"Sorry about being a pain earlier; you caught me at a really, really bad time."
"It's okay, Tink, you're here with me now; that's all that matters." Eddie let the towel around your head fall back so he could see your natural hair. "You wanna tell me what happened? I've never seen you so upset."
"You shook your head no, "It's too embarrassing."
"Come on, it's me we are talking about here."
You paused for a deep breath and decided to just lay it all out on the table... how much worse could it get, right?
“You remember Jesse, right?” Eddie could feel his fist tightening, but he said nothing while nodding his head with a tight lip. What the fuck did he do to you? “Well, he asked me to be his girlfriends no less than a week ago, and I was supposed to spend the night at his place… but I went over early and found him in bed with… someone.” Eddie went to say something but realized you weren’t finished and let you continue.
“Pathetic, isn’t it?! I finally get a boyfriend, and the moment I want to actually sleep with someone who isn’t you, they are in the arms of someone else! Am I really that undesirable?! I was practically throwing myself at him, and it turns out he was fucking his “friend” the whole time.”
You had missed your slip-up, but Eddie hadn't. Eddie didn’t hear anything after “I want to sleep with someone who isn’t you,”
So Adam was right…
“Eddie? Eddddiiieee?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face to try and get back his attention.
Great, so now you’re undesirable AND boring.
“Sorry what?”
“Forget it… you don’t wanna hear about my pitty party. I’ll call a cab and head back to… oh shit, I can’t even go home!”
“Stay here.”
“Eddie, I couldn’t possibly-”
“Yes. Stay. Take my bed; I’ll take the couch.”
“Eddie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not, Tink?” He brushed a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, and those pesky butterflies erupted within your core.
“Because…” because I’m in love with you and don’t know if I can hold back my feelings any longer.
“Exactly, you can’t come up with one. Let me take care of you.” Eddie’s voice dropped an octave.
A chill travelled down your spine. His touch is electric. Any time you’re with Eddie, your body feels like it’s been recharged.
As you gaze into Eddie’s eyes, this undeniable magnetic pull connects you. Was he leaning in? Or were you? Maybe it was the both of you? There was little to no space between you. Never in a million years did you think you would be sitting here, alone with Eddie in his apartment.
“I should get cleaned up,” Eddie whispered. He was so close you could taste the spearmint Nicorette gum he had been chewing. It took everything in his power to pull away. He wanted to kiss you so very badly, but he got a whiff of himself, and he needed to wash up. I would be unfair to you.
“Oh, okay,” you breathed in, and Eddie slid back.
“You can make yourself at home, okay? Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’ll be 10 minutes.”
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Eddie was freaking out in the shower, and you were freaking out in the kitchen. While Eddie scrubbed his skin so hard he thought he would scrub it off completely, you went to the fridge to find anything to help calm your nerves.
There wasn’t anything in the fridge, but the freezer, on the other hand... Bingo. You poured yourself a shot of vodka and almost threw up, but you held it together with a chaser of orange juice. You took one more for good measure and then made your way back to the couch. As you waited for your liquid courage to kick in, you flicked around on the TV but didn’t really pay much attention. Your thoughts were swimming with questions and possible scenarios that could play out this evening.
You were taken away from your inner thoughts when Eddie exited the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You tried not to make it obvious, but the alcohol clouded your awareness of your face.
“Sorry, I left my clothes in the bedroom” he saw you eye fucking him and gave a little smirk.
“It’s okay. Totally okay.” you sighed.
The sight of his wet, bare torso makes your heart race, his flesh covered in goosebumps, his nipples perked, and his hair soaked yet still so sexy. Your stomach simultaneously flip-flopped. And as for your pussy… well, she got a little excited at the heavenly sight in front of you.
“Yeah,” You wanna see more, Tink? Eddie thought to himself.
“Yeah.” You sighed before he disappeared into his bedroom.
Minutes later, Eddie returned, and the two of you acted as if nothing happened. Neither of you willing to break the tension first. So you both sat silently, watching some random TV movie while you prayed to come up with something to discuss. You wanted to talk so badly with him.
“This couch is pretty lumpy; it wouldn’t be fair to make you sleep on it.” You felt terrible that he offered his bed. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Nope. No way.” Eddie shook his head.
“Eddie.” You huffed.
“Tink,” he mocked back.
“You need a good sleep! You work a strenuous job…And my back can take it.”
I bet your back could take it, Eddie thought.
“You calling me old, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart, your stomach did a flip-flop again.
“No.” You snicker at his accusation.
“I don’t think I believe you” Eddie’s tone dropped again.
“Well, I’m not letting up”
“Neither am I; you’re sleeping in my bed whether I’m on it or not.
“Oh...”
“Yeah, oh.” Eddie sat back and the both of you finished the movie in silence.
You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but Eddie shook your shoulder awake.
“Come on Tinkerbell we are going to bed.” You think you hear Eddie whisper.
Were you dreaming? Did Eddie just tell you the two of you were going to bed?
“Mmm?”
“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch, remember? Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily.”
“Okay, Eddie, “ you agreed in your sleepy haze.
You feel his arm wrap under yours as he helps you off the couch.
“There you go.” Eddie coos as he places you down gently.
The moment your head hits the pillow, you’re suddenly wide awake. You’re in Eddie’s bed. Eddie is getting in next to you.
“Figured we would compromise.” He slid next to you but over the covers with a throw blanket.
“Thanks for letting me stay… and giving me a shoulder to cry on.” You cringed with embarrassment at the last part. “You seem to always be there for me…” you turn to your side to face Eddie.
“I’ll always be there for you, Tink, whether you like it or not…” Eddie also turns so he is facing you.
“Eddie.” Your breath hitched.
“Yes Tink.”
Fuck are you really going to spill your guts to him here and now?
“I… I wanna-need to tell you something.” You close your eyes, not daring to look at him.
“I think I might have an idea.”
“You-what?” Eyes still closed
You feel the bed shift and feel Eddie's warm breath fan your lips.
“Do you trust me?” Eddie whispered.
You aren’t brave enough to speak. So you tentatively nod your head yes.
“Do you trust me, Tink? I need you to say it.” He asked once more.
You slowly opened your eyes and bravely opened your mouth. “Yes, Ed’s, I trust you.”
A slight smile graces Eddie’s before you watch him lean in with a pucker.
Your heart skipped a beat the moment his lips touched yours.
Holy shit.
Eddie Munson was kissing you. Eddie Munson, your older brother's best friend, who you’ve been in love with for seven years, is now kissing you… in his bed… late at night… with no one else around. It was like fireworks were going off. It was everything you ever wanted and more.
It was all you had ever dreamed of, and now he was blowing your expectations out of the water. You had to have more. You needed this to last forever.
Your hands moved up to cup his face. His cheeks were rough with stubble, contrasting his soft plush lips. Eddie shifted closer to you. You could feel his body through the thick blankets that separated the two of you, but you wanted to be closer to him. You threw the blankets and all caution to the wind when you shifted to wrap your legs around him.
Eddie rolled so he was on top of you. To your surprise, you felt his firm cock pressed to your thigh, which made you moan softly.
“Fucking hell, Tink”
“Eddie, please, I need you.”
“Didn’t take you long to beg,” he chuckled darkly.
“Well, it took you long enough to see me.”
Eddie gazed into your eyes like he was looking at you for the first time. Like really seeing you. He muttered your name, your real name, for the first time, and you couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your face before you strained your neck to take his lips once more.
Eddie’s strong hands grazed your waist and settled on your hips, pinning you down to the mattress. His weight is entirely on you now. Your knees hitched up, and you opened your hips more to give him more room.
“Eddie,” you gasped into his mouth. Eddie ground his hips into yours, and you let out another soft moan.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You, it’s always been you.” You confessed.
Eddie didn’t say anything in reply but instead worked his fingers to the waistband of his sweatpants that you dawned.
“This okay?”
“Oh my god, yes,” you rushed. You’ve waited too long for this moment.
“Eager, aren’t we?”
“Don’t be mean,” You shove the pants off your ankles and go for your shirt.
“Wait… let me.” Eddie sat up so you could as well. His hands brushed the hem and slowly pulled the shirt he let you borrow off of you.
He took in your naked frame in front of him.
Shit, you weren’t wearing your panties this whole time? They must have been soaked as well from the rain. Eddie thought.
Eddie saw you shy away as you sat there naked in front of the boy you loved as he took you all in.
It didn’t take long before Eddie’s hands roamed your skin, finding your breasts.
“You’re so soft.” Eddie moaned into your neck as he took in the fact that you now smelled like him. He sent all over you; he was feral. He needed to claim you as his own. How could he be so blind all these years? You were perfect; you were everything he ever wanted.
“Do you like soft?”
“Very much so.”
Eddie melted into you once more as he travelled down your body, kissing and nipping at every inch. You softly moaned when he flicked your nipples with his tongue, and you really moaned when he reached your wet pussy.
How Eddie loved the noises he was pulling from you. He would do anything to make you sing for him.
“You like that baby? You want me to touch you… here?” His index finger grazed your wet slit.
“Yes” you replied quickly, a little too quickly.
“Good, I don’t know what I would have done if you said no.”
You giggled, but it was cut off by the feeling of Eddie’s fingertips grazing your clit.
You’d daydreamed countless times about how his fingers would feel while you watched him while he and your brother jammed in your garage.
He circled your clit before dipping his head down to kiss your lower lips. Reality hit you once again. Eddie was eating you out. Eddie was eating you out like a man starved, in fact. How was he so good at this? Scratch that you didn’t want to know. Your thoughts slowed down as Eddie’s thick fingers entered your wet hole.
“Eddie!” You yelled with pleasure.
“Oh yes, sweetheart, say my name.”
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you replayed like a mantra.
As his fingers grazed that spot that only you managed to find when you were alone in your bed, exploring your body. You fell apart in his hands.
“Your pussy grips me so good, god I can’t wait to fuck you.”
“Please, Eddie,” you begged in your blissed-out daze.
“Let me hear it again,” he smirked.
“I need you, please. I want your cock so badly."
“Mmmmmm, as you wish.” he pulled back so he could strip. You watched as his tight muscles flexed as he pulled off his shirt, then scrunched as he bent over to take off his bottoms.
His cock sprung out of their confines, and your breath hitched for what you thought was at least the fourth time that night.
You’ve imagined what it would look like, but none of the times ever did you imagine he was this hung. No wonder he was so confident and cocky around women. It was long, thick, and straight. No curvatures, just pure rod.
“I don’t think that’s going to fit,” you blurt out, not thinking.
“Don’t worry, Baby. It’ll fit.” he slunk back down on you, peppering your lips with more sensual kisses. His fingers travelled down to your pussy, stretching you out again, only this time, he used 3 fingers to make sure you were nice and ready.
“Please, I’m ready” You ground your pussy into Eddie’s hand.
Eddie reached over into his drawer, pulled out a condom, and slipped it over his shaft as quickly as possible. Seemed that he was just as eager as you.
Eddie kissed you hard as his cock slipped past your wet folds and inside, splitting you open. The wonderful burn of his cock burying itself inside of you. What could you say? It had been a while, and Eddie was the biggest you’ve ever had.
“Slowly,” you guided Eddie as he rocked his hips, giving you time to adjust.
“God, you’re so tight”
“Mmmphmm”
“Your noises are so pretty.” Eddie tucked a piece of fallen hair behind your ear.
Eddie took your breath away as he looked into your eyes. He was being so soft and gentle with you as if you could break.
“Eddie, please.”
“I got you, Princess”
Eddie rocked his hips with more emphasis; his body was moulding into yours. As his cock grazed your tight walls, you felt your body was brought to life.
“Oh fuck” your words slipped, not even realizing you were speaking.
“Come’on baby, let me hear you”
“You’re making me feel so good, Eddie!”
“More, tell me who you belong to.”
“ You! always been you, Eddie, please, I wanna come. Please make me cum on your cock.”
“Good girl. You’re being so good, f’me” Eddie's hips slapped into the backs of your thighs, and he plummeted into you, making you cry out in pleasure.
Eddie grabbed the backs of your knees and pushed them back to your shoulders, only making the angle more delicious as he fucked you. He watched as his cock disappeared into your wanton pussy. He watched as you clenched down on his cock, and he almost lost it as he tried not to cum right then and there.
“Fuck me, Tink! Your pussy is too good,” he gritted through his teeth, trying to keep the pace without blowing his load.
“Eddie!” Your body was on fire as his cock continuously hit your g spot. Your lower belly tingled as the feeling of your orgasm built up again.
“You close, baby?”
“Yes”
“Cum for me.”
“More, I need more.”
Eddie slipped his hand between you and gently circled your clit once again.
You moan, cockdrunk as your body begins to spasm around Eddie’s cock.
“Yes, that’s it, come on baby. Keep cuming. That’s my girl.”
Your eyes roll back into your head, and you clamp your jaw. Every muscle tightens and clenches as your second orgasm rips through you.
“Good girl. Good fuckin girl.” Eddie praises as he empties himself into the condom.
After a few moments of the two of you catching your breath and Eddie discarding the used condom, you break the silence.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” you chuckled in disbelief.
“Adam is going to kill me,” Eddie laughed.
“Good, I’ve been meaning to get him back. You roll over to snuggle in his arms.
“And to think you were supposed to be in another man’s bed tonight.” Eddie hated that idea.
“At least I ended up in the right man’s bed.”
Part 2
Tagging those who seemed interested: @lofaewrites @lavendermunson @imyourdaninow @itsfreakingbats @allthingsjoeq
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 2 months ago
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can i request a jaehyun drabble with jaehyun doing acts of service😭 like peeling shrimp for mc🥹🥹 thank you!
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Being with Jaehyun made you less aware of the many little duties and chores that had been lifted off your shoulders. It had started a few years ago, on one of your dates a few months in, you had both taken a love language quiz. You had gotten acts of service, Jaehyun had gotten physical touch.
It had been a couple years since you took the test, but never had a chance to look back and reflect until one of your friends mentioned how much Jaehyun did for you. Did he really? Incorporating physical touches for Jaehyun just comes so naturally that you might have forgotten the results of the test all those years ago.
"Of course he does! I joined you two for dinner a few weeks ago and he peeled your shrimp for you!" One of your friends points out.
"And he makes you your coffee just the way you like it every single morning and takes your car to get the oil changed," another friend adds.
"You don't even take out your own trash," your first friend adds again.
You cross your arms, "you guys make it sound like it's a bad thing that he does things for me."
"But what do you do for him?"
That question remains in your head even as you and Jaehyun watch TV later on in the night. He's placed a bowl of ice cream in front of you, studying you as you stare blankly at the screen, lost in thought.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Jaehyun asks softly, allowing you to subconsciously intertwine your fingers together.
You hum, mulling over your words before speaking. "My friends told me that you do too much for me. Like things I should do myself, and I guess I've never noticed. You don't have to do so much for me. Sorry, I never noticed."
Your thumb has been rubbing nervous circles on the back of Jaehyun's hand which brings a smile to his face, "I do those things because I want to. I like doing things for you."
"But why? I can do things for myself, you know?"
"Of course you can, baby. Your love language is acts of service so it makes me feel happy that you feel loved when I do things for you. I like to make your life easier in any way that I can. It's just like you make me feel loved with physical touch."
Your eyes widen as you seem to suddenly realize your hand in Jaehyun's and how you've cuddled up to his side, "you remember the love language test I made you take?"
"I remember everything about you."
You feel your heart melt as you surge forward and pepper half his face with kisses. He laughs heartily, until you press a final kiss to the apple of his cheek, "that was really, really cute of you. I love you for remembering, but... if I remember correctly, didn't you forget our anniversary this year?"
"Oh my god!" he groans, "you woke me up and I was startled so I asked what day it was! That's not me forgetting! That was me being confused after you woke me up against my will!"
"Whatever! Tell me you love me back!"
"You know I love you back, baby. I love you, even though you know... right?"
You take a bite from your slightly melted ice cream, "of course I know, you spoil me."
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bengals-barnesbabe · 3 months ago
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The Girl Behind the Camera
Pair: Joe Burrow x Videographer!Reader
Descr: When The Bengals hire a new social media manager, people start to notice a certain QB coming out of his shell.
TW: mentions of sex, nudity, gossip, racism, classism, invasion of privacy, protective boyfriend!Joe.
Main Masterlist
WC: 2083
*. * ·┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ 。˚ ✧
"Which of your teammates would you rather be stranded on a deserted island with for 72 hours?"
Was the question being asked on the way out from practice. From behind the black and white jerseys Joe could hear the bouts of laughter from each answer. Most of his more outgoing teammates thoroughly enjoyed walking up to the woman with the camera on a day to day basis, while others like him avoided making simple eye contact with her.
But today's Friday and Fridays are very special on this practice field. Not only do they have shorter practices but the recurring sports journalist major with a sometimes too sunny attitude, is replaced with the new silk press and brown glossy lips-wearing photographer that could stop him in the middle of the busiest highways just with her smile.
"Hey 9!" You beam as he approaches you with rosy cheeks. "Wanna hear today's question?"
I'd listen to anything coming from those pretty lips.
"Sure, whatcha got for me?" His eyes are solely focused on the way your glittery nails push back your dark brown locks and the movement of your lips rather than the content flowing from them.
He stands there motionless for a minute contemplating his answer, when in reality he just wanted to see how long you'd hold his gaze before squirming. 45 seconds is the current record.
"Joey, come on.."
25 seconds, he must look especially good today.
He smirks as your pout forms, or maybe he just likes giving you more work to do in the editing room (aka tonight at his place).
"Are you going to answer or should I shut off the camera?" A chuckle arises from his belly as you attempt to make an authoritarian stance with a smooth caramel leg jutted out and your glistening arms crossed over your chest.
Rolling your eyes at him, you start to ignore him and play around with the camera, before his voice interrupts you. "Alright, I'll answer. Only for you though."
He does his best to revert back to factory settings (aka grump mode as you like to call it) when you give him the go-ahead. "I guess, I'd take Ja'Marr. Hopefully, he doesn't get sick of me in 3 days."
You let out a cute giggle at his response recapturing his gaze from above the camera. He'd make it his life goal to keep that sound pouring from your plump lips.
So he adds to his answer. "Or I'd take my girlfriend, she loves beaches you know. She's kind of the yin to my yang." He smirks nodding to your necklace.
Flustered you try to cover your smile, before asking him a follow-up question. "Would you get on a boat to rescue her, if she somehow got trapped out at sea?"
"Of course, I would," he chuckles. "But then I'd ask where she found a boat in the first place and why she got in it when she doesn't like them either."
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
"Maybe she was just trying to find food for her quarterback boyfriend with a bottomless pit as a stomach." His entire body shakes with laughter as you smile accomplishedly behind the lens.
"That's cute, you know her or something?" You shrug, as he straightens up due to another presence approaching.
"Don't stop on my accord, you did great today J. And you Miss Thing, I can't wait to see the shots you got of my team out there." Coach Taylor praises walking past you, causing your faces to heat up.
"God, I don't know how much of this I can use." Your video voice sombers.
You watch as the orange jersey fills the frame until not even the 9 is visible. "Sounds like you have your work cut out for you. Kind of like how..." His low and teasing voice barely gets picked up on the audio. A shiver runs down your spine because you remember exactly what he said before walking out of view.
"Kind of like how you will when you get home tonight."
'And boy was he right, but not about the editing.' You think gawking at his body as he walks out of the bathroom, water dripping from his hair and shoulders down his nice pecs and delectable abs. His strong arms and toned abdomen are tinted red due to the steamy shower that's releasing vapor into the room.
"Still editing I see?" He asks teasingly as he ruffle-dries his hair with a microfiber towel. You painstakingly nod but push the laptop down and off your lap.
"It can wait." You say as your gaze drops down to the blonde happy trail that disappears underneath the towel secured around his waist. "It's not due til noon anyway."
"Good, I've been thinking about you laid out on my bed for me since we got home." A smirk curves up his lips when he notices your eyes fixated on the bulge of the fabric.
"Lucky me." Then the towel drops. Lucky me indeed.
✧ ⁺ . ° ➶ 。˚ ✧
Eventually, the video does get edited and uploaded to social media like it's supposed to and your bosses thoroughly enjoy the impressions it brings to the organization.
You tried your best to edit out all of the parts that gave too much about your relationship away without completely taking Joe out of the video. You thought it did a great job, the final cut showed a very professional interaction between the two of you. Everyone was happy.
Until you started trending on Twitter almost 3 days later.
Something you didn't realize before becoming the Bengals' backup photographer/videographer and official social media manager was that your boyfriend rarely if ever participated in the post-practice videos. Anna, their main journalist, did mention that Joe liked to hide from cameras at practice, but you thought she was talking about paparazzi and overzealous fans. It wasn't until you went through every post-practice TikTok video that you realized that she was not kidding at all.
Currently, you are sitting wide-eyed on the couch watching a well-known YouTube gossip talk about your video and your relationship. She hadn't said the word dating yet, but by her analysis of the short clips- she was not very far from finding out.
"I think the key here is the woman behind the camera. Their conversation was short, but you could tell she could get him to say anything. And the way it's cut, oh my god. Anyone could tell that there was much more to this chat than we saw. Sadly, I couldn't find her socials, so the woman behind the camera wins this time."
You paused the video as soon as Joe's footsteps became apparent as he walked toward the area where you were sitting. "Hi, baby!" You cringe at the perky tone of your voice.
"Hi?" He says plopping down next to you and kissing your head. The lingering embarrassment makes your spine stiffen. Joe raises a brow in confusion. "Y/n, what's wrong?"
You huff and pout sinking into the couch cushions. "I kinda fucked up."
"How so?" He asks pulling your hands into his.
"Have you watched my video?" You whisper as if saying it aloud will anger the universe.
"No, but I heard it was doing well. Do you want me to pull it up?" You shake your head immediately. "What's wrong with the video?"
"You're in it." You mumble laying your head on his chest.
"Huh?"
"You hate attention, you hate cameras, and you literally hide from them when we're in public! And I put you in my video!" One of his hands lets go of yours and begins to stroke the back of your head.
"Baby, I put myself in-
"No, I forced you to do the one thing you've always set a boundary on. I'm a shitty girlfriend, I should've just ended it before you walked by or just kept the whole clip for myself."
"Y/n, listen."
"Joey I'm so sorry, everyone is talking about how you and 'the girl behind the camera' are probably a thing. They're probably digging up pictures of us in public at the moment and there's nothing I can do to stop it. All of your business is going to be aired out-
"I know-
"Reporters are going to start showing up to your practices, and paparazzi will be following us. It's a disaster- wait what did you say?" You sniffle pulling your head up to face him. And he's smiling?
"I know and I don't care. All I care about is that the most important woman in my life is safe and happy. That's you mamas." He says softly, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.
"Wait but you've worked so hard to keep your private life- private and I should've respected that."
He shakes his head. "I wanted to be in that video because you were the one behind the camera. Even if we weren't dating, I would have been in that video and people would've had something to say about it. I did it because you make me happy and I love watching you work. In fact.." He takes his phone out and queues a video onto the TV screen.
"Joe, what is this?" You ask as he comes up in today's outfit looking like it was filmed when he left for work this morning.
"Just watch." He grins.
*In the video he’s seen smiling and taking pictures with fans before his morning meeting.
“Hey Joey B! Over here!” A young boy jumps up trying to get his attention.
Your boyfriend chuckles and shuffles over to the kid to sign his helmet. “Hi, how you doing bud?”
“I’m great! My sister’s sad that you have a girlfriend now though.” The kid vibrates with energy and excitement, very different than his sister who’s glaring at him from the side.
Joe just laughs, gives the kid a fist bump, and moves on to another fan.*
“Joe, you didn’t say anything. What is this supposed to prove?” You huff in confusion.
“I know, that’s just my favorite part. You just need to see what happens next.” He assured pushing your focus back to the TV screen.
*As Joe starts to wave bye to the crowd a swarm of paparazzi and journalists emerge.*
You immediately start to frown because this is exactly what he's been trying to avoid.
*The people behind the giant cameras ask him all kinds of outlandish questions, all of which he ignores until a question about you pops up.
“Joe, are you hiding your girlfriend because you’re ashamed of her career and her race?” He stops right outside the door to the facility and spots the woman who asked the question.
“What did you say?” His eyes squint and brows furrow in the same way as they do when people question his football fatality.
“Last night, the Bengals website updated their faculty and staff page. The only new social media manager was a black woman named Y/n. What other reason could you be hiding your relationship for?” She asks confidently sticking her camera in his space.
“Do you hear how fucking dumb you sound?” He says so calmly making all the eyes around him widen. Including yours as you watch the incredulous look on his face turn to a scowl.
“I’m hiding her from idiots like you guys who follow me around with cameras chasing the wrong narratives. Do you really think I want to hide the love of my life from the world? Cause I don’t, but I would rather us have a good relationship that’s private rather than a shitty one controlled by the media. Literally, look at what happened after one lighthearted joke got taken out of context! And to even comment that her race was an issue? What fucking year do you live in? I would love that woman no matter what she did or how she looked. And it shouldn't matter. All of you are ridiculous. Have a great day.” Then walked into the facility slamming the door behind him.*
When he looks back over at you, silent tears are falling from your eyes. “Shit was it too much.” He says panicked.
You shake your head with a chuckle then lean up to press a chaste kiss on his lips. “No, it was perfect. I love you so much, Joseph.”
He returns the sweet kiss and holds you close. “I love you more than anything Y/n. I’d do anything for you, never forget that.”
“I won’t.”
~●○°●○°●○~
a/n: sorta kinda inspired by @slimshiesty, if you know you know and you absolutely should know.
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stvrnzcherries · 9 months ago
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BRUTAL
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c. sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: Chris got into a fight with his girlfriend Paige and you comforted him until things led to another...
warnings: dom!chris, angst, smut, fingering, degrading kink, make out, pet names, cheating, alcohol, use of y/n, throwing up, toxic relationship.
not proofread!
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You were at a house party that a few friends of the triplets organized. You were near the drinks table with Nick and Madi while Matt, Chris, and his girlfriend Paige were on the other side of the house. The thing is that you’re drunk right now and you can't help but stare at Chris, the way he caresses Paige's waist, the way he leans to whisper dirty little things to her, you want that, you want to be the one that he says those things, you want to be the one he can touch, love, crave for.
And it killed you that she was perfect and you felt like you would never be like her.
Little did you know...
“Y/n!” Nick snaps you out of your trance waving a hand across your face.
“Sorry, sorry! What were you saying?” You asked while you kept glaring at Chris’ direction.
“Do you want to play beer pong with us?” He asked once again
You nodded and that's when you saw Chris leaving with Paige upstairs.
Ouch.
This shouldn't be affecting you this much, but it hurts like hell. You can’t even recall when you started to feel this way about him, but it drove you crazy.
“Sure, but I kinda need some water…” And that’s when you felt it, your stomach turning, feeling the lump forming in your throat, this was the moment where your decision to get drunk would make you suffer the consequences for it. Kneeling on the floor, wrapping your arms around your stomach, feeling the acid making you gag, your first instinct was to pick up your cup and throw up on the inside, If you were going to humiliate yourself, the least you could do was to not make a mess on the fucking floor.
Feeling the sensation wear off slightly after literally throwing up your intestines (or at least that’s how it felt) you tried to stand up. Failing miserably, causing Nick and Madi to pick you up and rest your left arm around Nick’s shoulders and your right arm on Madi’s shoulders, trying to carry you to the bathroom as fast as they could.
Chris' POV
I went upstairs with Paige since she needed to talk to me. I think I’ve never felt so anxious in my life as I do right now. That’s when we got there and the conversation in reality was just Paige complaining about a trip I was going on with my brothers in a few days. “I just don’t understand why can’t you stay here with me!” she yelled.
“I already told you a few weeks ago that I’m not canceling another trip with my brothers just because you feel like not letting me go, you’re not my fucking mother to tell me where I can go or not, what I can do or not! Because guess what, Paige, I can do the fuck I want.” I snapped back, making Paige turn around and slap me harshly, leaving a red mark across my cheek.
I held my cheek, not feeling slightly shocked anymore since this started way back ago, I could tell by her face that she regretted it instantly.
“Chris, baby…” she tried to place her hand on the spot where she marked, making me pull away from her touch.
“And now you just gave me more reasons to go on that fucking trip,” I added between sobs, trying to hold back the tears, turning my back to her.
"Please, don't leave me… I can fix this..." She gripped my arm.
"As far as I remember, you mentioned the same thing last time we fought." The resentment showed up in my voice, but I couldn't help it. How could someone so perfect turn into a complete monster? How can someone hurt someone they love?
And when I left the room, I would rather not see her face or hear her voice.
Y/n’s POV
You were in the bathroom throwing up while Madi was making you a ponytail and Nick rubbed your back. This night couldn’t get any worse. “Shit,” Nick murmured as you let your head rest on his shoulder, feeling way better than how you were.
“What?” Madi asked, her voice sounding tense.
“Matt just texted me we’re leaving right now.” You sat up straight, panicking, “What do you mean? I thought we all agreed to go until 1:00 AM…”
He scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah, well, there’s a change of plans.”
You checked your phone, and it was only midnight, “You guys should convince Matt if we can go in 30 minutes?”
They looked at each other and then back at you, “We won’t leave you here, y/n.”
“I’ll be fine, guys don’t need to worry about me.” You smiled at both of them.
Nick shook his head. “I’ll just text Chris to ask him if he can try to convince Matt to let us stay a little longer.” He spoke as he started to type on his phone. “We’re not leaving you here alone, end of the conversation.”
"Alright, Dad," you replied jokingly, having as a response an eye roll from Nick as he was about to laugh.
Thirty minutes had passed, and the three of you were still inside the bathroom waiting for Chris’ answer. “Did he text you already?” You asked as you rinsed your mouth with some mouthwash to get rid of the disgusting sour taste you had.
"Yes, and he's giving me a headache already!" Nick answered as he kept texting back and forth with whom you supposed was Chris, "He won't stop being a fucking baby, and it's bitch complaining to me that Matt keeps insisting that we have to go now."
"Well...maybe we should try to—" You got interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door, you all looked at each other confused.
As you open the door, you see a long-haired brunette and a pair of pretty blue eyes.
It was Chris. His eyes seemed puffy and a little red as if he were crying. “Is Nick here?” Anger was plastered on his face.
That’s when Nick stood up and opened the bathroom door, “What the fuck, Chris? Can’t you do a simple task?” causing Chris to scoff “And you clearly can’t read. I texted you back saying that Matt didn’t give a shit about you guys needing more time. He wants to go now.”
“Did you explain to him that y/n is not feeling well right now?” Nick snapped back, crossing his arms.
Chris rubbed his face with both his hands before scanning your entire face. “Isn’t she okay now?”
“Chris! She could barely walk by herself a few minutes ago, why’s is it so hard for you to do a fucking favor and ask our brother to give us some time?!” Nick answered, his voice rising.
“Because I don’t understand why the fuck you guys need more time, y/n look completely fine, and you’re making a huge fucking deal out of it!” Chris’ voice also got a little louder.
“Because it will be a fucking huge deal when she’s throwing up all over the fucking car!” He shouted.
Chris’ jaw clenched.
“Then why don’t you ask Matt, since it’s such a big deal, huh?”
“Fine, I’ll fucking go and instead you and y/n will stay here while Madi and I sort this out since it’s so difficult for you.” Nick left the bathroom, Madi following his pace as Chris moved out of the way so they could get out.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to—” Chris shut the door behind him and looked at you, tears forming in his eyes. Your first instinct was to hug him.
He just cried as silently as he could. You guessed that alcohol hits him differently than it does to you. He dragged you closer by wrapping his arms around your waist, and you began to stroke his hair. “Everything’s going to be alright, Chris.”
“No, it’s not, I’m a fucking burden to everybody and,” His sobs getting louder than before. “First, I fought with Paige and now Nick.”
You pulled back to look at his face, pulling his chin up so he could look at you, “You’re not a burden to no one, Chris.” You said, “You’re like the sun, and when the sun comes out, everyone smiles.” You kept talking, caressing his right cheek with your thumb, “Besides, whatever you and Paige fought about was just because she was drunk, it’ll pass.”
He just nodded and then rested his face on the crook of your neck and kept crying a little.
A few minutes had passed, you and Chris were sitting on the bathroom floor, laughing and talking a little.
“You know, If I’m being honest…I kind of envy Paige.” You said while looking up at the ceiling.
“Why?” Chris replied, furrowing his brows slightly
“Because she’s so beautiful and I’m not…” You admitted.
“Well that’s not true, you are really beautiful too.” He looked at you and smiled.
Beautiful, he called you beautiful.
A buzz sound came from Chris’ phone, he picked it up and looked at the screen. “It’s Nick.”
“What he said?”
“Matt accepted to stay a little more.”
“Excellent! This means I can finally get out of this bathroom.” You stood up and fixed your dress a bit, offering a hand to Chris.
He took your hand and stood up, as he was looking at you. His eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips.
And that’s when you noticed how your faces were just inches apart, feeling his breath hitting your face softly. “Chris…”
“Y/n…”
His palms were resting now on your cheeks, your mouths almost touching, “Do you want to kiss me, hm?” He suggested, grazing his lips against yours teasingly, causing you to shiver a little.
Of course, you wanted it, but was it right? Will he regret it? Will you regret it?
Something snapped you back from reality, cold hands running on your lower back down to your ass, gripping it slightly, “I asked you something.” His voice shifted to a demanding tone.
Fuck it.
You crush your lips against his. At first, it was sloppy, both fighting for dominance, he kept his grip on your ass, gripping it harder. Making you gasp.
And that’s when he gets the chance to slide his tongue inside your mouth, taking control of the kiss. Your body pressed against the cold marble sink that was right behind you, his hands now resting on the sides of your hips. Chris picked you up from your thighs and sat you up on the bathroom sink. Lifting your dress to reveal your black laced panties.
His hand snaked down to your inner thigh. His kisses lowered from your mouth to your jaw and then to your neck. His fingers finally got to your heat, your panties soaking wet. “You’re so wet for me.” He whispered, causing you to whimper a bit. He pulled your panties to the side and began to rub in circles your sensitive nub, whimpers coming out of your mouth. Shaking breaths, your hands gripping on the sink, your knuckles getting white.
“You fucking like that, don’t you?” Chris asked through gritted teeth, applying more pressure on your clit. You nodded but that made things worse, “You better use your fucking words, y/n. Or else I’ll stop and leave you all alone.”
“Y-yes, I l-like i-it.” You handled letting out. Chris smirked and kept stroking your clit. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, your head resting against the mirror wall, feeling the wave of pleasure consuming you. “Fuck…”
But then, the pleasure stopped. You opened your eyes and looked at Chris, he was smirking at you while he sucked his fingers, guiding them back to your throbbing pussy. Slipping them inside you, painfully slow. Your walls clench around his fingers, your legs squeezing with each other, a loud gasp coming out from you. Chris began to pick up his pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you “Just like that, keep making those pretty noises for me like a good girl.” He groaned, intensifying his speed with each thrust.
He looked down where his fingers were working their way to bring you over the edge, you let pornographic moans out of your mouth, giving Chris what he wants.
Control.
“You look so fucking pathetic right now.” He grabbed your chin with his free hand and forced you to see him, his eyes darkened and full of desire. “Don’t you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me? You fucking slut.” Chris whispered to you, pumping his fingers mercilessly in and out of you. “You wanted this? You wanted me to finger you?”
You nodded desperately, feeling the well-known knot forming inside of you, you were about to come. “I-I’m so c-close,” you mumbled. “What was that?” He gripped your chin tighter. Your hands grasp tighter on the bathroom sink, your climax getting closer and closer with each thrust. “Don’t stop, fuck.” You spat, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt finally getting to the edge.
“I won't.” He replied, getting closer to leave a few hickeys on your collarbone and the crook of your neck. That's when you felt your release “Fuck!” a loud moan coming out from you, your walls clenching around Chris’ fingers. Your juices flooded all over his fingers. Chris took out his fingers, a popping sound as he did. Your chest goes up and down violently, and your breath is heavy.
He looked at his fingers then at you, “Open your eyes, now.” You open your eyes slowly to get the view of Chris cleaning out his fingers until there isn't a single drop of your juices around his fingers. “You taste so fucking good, ma.”
What the fuck was going on tonight.
You were in the backseat with Nick and Madi, gossiping about tonight's party “It was fun.” Nick admitted.
“Yeah, I think I’m not going to parties anymore,” Matt added.
And there was Chris, glancing at you a few times before they left you at your apartment.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, alright?” You said to them as you waved at them.
You're finally in a quieter place, where you can think about what just happened tonight with Chris.
It finally happened, you finally got what you wanted with Chris and even more.
But it wasn’t enough, you craved for more.
But then, reality hits.
He was still with Paige, and you were just a distraction to him.
Or that’s what you thought until…
You got a text from someone.
It was Chris.
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౨ৎ
a/n: not the best one-shots ever but here you go!!! Lmk if there’s any mistakes!
Tag list: @sturniolossss @tillies33ssss @chrisloyalgf @alorsxsturn
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feefivefoe · 3 months ago
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I guess I'm unintentionally working my way up the age ladder, so Jason next-
This is the first part that contains backstory stuff I gave my reader, so unfortunately this is where a lot of the "they can be anyone" immersion dies, sorry y'all.
Genuinely, he thought he might hate you at first. Even at the preteen age of 12, where children were usually trying to start striving to independence, you had been so...bland.
It's not that you didn't stand out. Quite the contrary. Anywhere Alfred could be found, you were just a step or two behind him. A leech. Only ever speaking in a hushed voice, making the old man strain himself to hear you, surely.
He doesn't think you've ever even looked him in the eye.
It isn't until that summer he starts connecting the dots. You still cling to long sleeved shirts, pants over shorts, even when it's clear you're struggling to not overheat.
Then he catches you in the kitchen in the middle of the night, t-shirt and pajama shorts.
Burn marks, healed yet gruesome, decorate your arms and legs. Based on how they're positioned, he'd argue they probably exist on the rest of your body, too.
And yet, despite his invasion of what you clearly(?) wanted kept hidden, you merely bow your head in shame and offer a meek apology.
That's when he stops seeing you as a problem, but as a victim of consequence.
Not a bratty child who doesn't care enough about the lower class to speak to your new 'sibling,' but a lonely child who had never even once considered he might want to speak to you.
"Mister Wayne and Mister Grayson are very busy." You had said once, matter of factly rather than bitter or sad. "I'm sure they'd spend time with me if they weren't. But they have two lives, so they have less time than anybody."
He doesn't have the heart to tell you that they make time for him. And the rest of Gotham.
As you do with Alfred, you begin to shadow him. Meandering behind him without a care as to what his plans are, happy to receive the barest of acknowledgments.
You hesitate when speaking about yourself, as though taking up his time with mentions of you is an issue. He's starting to understand why.
Jason isn't sure if it's pity or growing affection that keeps him around, at first. For a while, he sees you as more of a sad, wet dog than as his family.
But you begin to connect with peers at school, finding validation outside of those that feel forced to give it to you. You mature, grow up more than you should, and realize the reality of your home life.
And Jason is thrilled! ...and...a little sad? He's happy for you, sure. Having friends is probably what you needed. People who want you around, genuinely. Who choose to make time for you.
But he'd be lying if he said that the way you used to stare at him didn't make him feel like a hero. Like he was doing so much, changing your world, simply by existing.
You still speak, of course. You're friendly siblings that get along well. You give him various foods you've tried making, courtesy of Alfred inspiring a desire to learn to cook and bake on your own. You talk about books you've read together, and listen intently while he rambles about his favorites.
You even peek in after particularly rough patrol nights, just to make sure he's gotten through it okay.
But it isn't...quite the same. No, but it's...it's for the best.
And he is still a hero! As Robin, he's protecting the whole city alongside Batman!
So he's still a hero.
He's still your hero.
"Jay? I was wondering if I could ask you for some help. The show my club is doing is one of those old books you like-"
"They aren't that old."
"-and my character doesn't show up much in the movie-"
"You watched the MOVIE before reading the book!?"
"-so I wanted to ask if you'd help me with characterization!"
He remembers groaning at you and rolling his eyes. "I'm busy tonight. Go watch the dumb, BAD, movie again." He pauses. "Uh, but I can tomorrow. I'll make sure I don't have anything planned, promise."
He saw you pause, and sees the constant same promises pass through you.
"I...have other arrangements. I'll make it up to you next time."
"Ah...sorry, kiddo! Big kid stuff. But next time! You trust your big bro, yeah?"
But this is Jason. Jason doesn't lie to you.
Jason keeps his promises.
You smiled. "Yeah. Tomorrow."
...
Then he died.
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kamiversee · 3 months ago
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˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
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7 | What's it gonna take
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❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | language, fluff, teasing, dry humping, sexual tension, etc.
❧ Word Count | 5.6k
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
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——The next morning you wake up with your cheek pressed against something warm, an oversized t-shirt clothing you and one of your legs resting atop something. You quickly find out that the something in question happens to be none other than the man you had sex with the night prior, your best friend, Choso Kamo.
Laying on his naked chest, before your eyes even peel open, you relish in the gentle smell of his cologne. Surely you don’t remember either of you showering last night and yet here he was smelling as though nothing had even occurred. But hey, you’re pretty sure you passed out at some point so you wouldn’t be surprised if he cleaned himself up while you were sleeping.
The sound of a phone dinging oddly close by makes you finally crack your eyes open, the first thing you’re met with is a phone in Choso’s hand not too far away from you. Since you were lying slightly on top of him, you could feel the deep breath he took due to the most recent notification. 
In the background was the faint sound of The Weeknd— you’ve got no idea what song was playing but it was there somewhere, sounding a bit far away. That aside, instead of focusing everywhere all at once, you center your gaze on Choso’s phone and watch his thumb linger over that recent notification.
You had to blink a few times to read it but the most you got from the text there was a ‘Hey, can u call me when u wake up? I wanna talk about last night…’ from someone named… Hori? You’ve got no idea who that is but the message is swiped away and blatantly ignored before you get to think about it any further.
Choso then swipes through the rest of his messages, answering some recent texts from his family members up until one message catches your eye yet again. It was something from his Uncle and the only reason it caught your eye is because your name was mentioned. Allas, before you could read anything past the words ‘Are you still,’ Choso was swiping out of the text thread entirely and you were soon spotting your contact.
Choso, being the total sweetheart he is, has your name happily saved as ‘Idiot #1’. You wouldn’t expect anything more or less from him but reading that made you scoff, which alerts him that you’re awake.
Followed by his realization is his heavily husked tone hitting your ears, “Well, good morning to you too.”
You almost smile at his voice alone. Something about it had your heart twinging in an unusual way and your lips twitching before you shifted your head up to look at him, “Mornin’ Cho.”
Choso’s gaze softens as it meets yours and you catch the way his whole expression and vibe seem to come at peace all at once. “How’d you sleep?” Holy shit the rasp in his voice was making your legs twitch against him ever so slightly, your eyes fleeting elsewhere.
“Fine, I think,” You hum, glancing around his bedroom until you spot the TV, “You?” As you ask that, you’ve located the source of lowly volumed music.
“Better than I have in a while,” Choso sighs as his eyes remain on your face, “How do you feel?”
You turn to him again and tilt your head, “I feel okay but uh, better than you have in a while?” You repeat with a lift of your brow, “Good pussy gave you some good rest, huh?”
He rolls his eyes at that question immediately, “Oh but I’m the ‘cocky bastard’.”
A smile graces your face and you shrug, “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah,” Choso replies simply, “I guess you could say that.”
You chuckle at that and let out a little hum, to which he grins at you. Was there something in the air? Because Choso was staring at you like you were the only thing he’s ever cared to lay his eyes upon and you couldn’t get yourself to break away from his gaze for a long moment.
“Cho,” You hush out, watching as his brows lift, “Why’s my name saved as Idiot number one in your phone??”
Annnnd moment ruined.
Choso chuckles, “Cause’ you’re idiot number one, duh.”
“Why the number? Are there more idiots you know?” You muse, smiling slightly at the man.
“Two things; one, if there were, would you be jealous? And two, did you just willingly call yourself an idiot?” Your brown-haired best friend huffs out in jest, intrigued by your questions.
You shrug, “One; no. And two; yes.”
Ah, he’s full-on smiling at you now. Something was definitely in the air because Choso hasn’t felt this banter with you in forever and his heartfelt weird experiencing it again. 
Then he’s shaking his head at you, “You’re a dumbass.”
“I have my moments, I suppose,” You hum before slowly moving to sit up. The second you try moving, there’s a throb coming from just about everywhere— more specifically your thighs and back, which causes you to wince and pause in your movements, “Shit.”
Choso’s sitting up along with you and he tips his head to the side, “I asked you how you felt ‘nd you said you were okay.”
You scoff, “I was before I-“
He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing something for you. Then he’s handing said unknown items to you and earning a confused glance from your face.
“Ibuprofen for your pain,” Choso explains, handing you one of two pills, “And uh, morning after for your uh-,” He awkwardly clears his throat as he processes a few things in his head, “So you don’t get, y’know… Since I uh-“
“Fucked me full of your cum last night?” You say bluntly, making his entire face heat up.
“Y-Yeah,” Choso stutters as a very prominent shade of red spreads across his face, “Since I did that.”
You smile at how shy he’s being before taking those pills from his hand, raising a brow at the man as you gesture to them, “So, am I supposed to throat these pills raw?”
“I’m sure you could if you wanted to,” He comments casually while reaching over for a water bottle, “But if you need me to stretch your throat out beforehand just say the word and I’ll-“
“Christ, Choso,” You gasp as you slap your free hand over his mouth. He smiles against you and hands you the water bottle he was reaching for. “How do you get shy from the thought of last night but then all bold two seconds later??” You huff before taking your hand off his mouth and grabbing the water bottle.
Choso shrugs, “Cause’ I almost got you pregnant last night,” He says reluctantly, the tips of his ears burning red, “But I can’t get you pregnant if I fuck your throat.”
You roll your eyes at him before taking the given medicine swiftly. Choso’s smile widens a bit and he quietly watches you gulp down the water and two pills, his eyes unknowingly focusing in on your throat for longer than intended. The way you effortlessly swallow-, which should be expected, you’re only drinking water but…
That small little ahh you let out as the bottle is retracted from your lips, the way you managed to cause a slip of water to escape your mouth, followed by an innocent glance in his direction, and then your eyes are on his and his eyes are on your lips and he just-
“You want to?” You ask casually, earning even more of his undivided attention.
“Want to, what?” Choso murmurs with a soft furrow of his brows.
You chuckle and lean closer to him. Then, you lean down a bit so he can look into your eyes and not at your lips, “Fuck my throat.”
Choso swallows thickly as he gazes deep into your eyes, “Right now?”
You scoff, “No, idiot. I’m sore enough everywhere else-“
“What’s one more place?” He cuts off, suddenly all too interested in the mere idea of face fucking you.
A heavy sigh leaves your lips, “Choso.” You murmur sternly.
“I’ll be gentle,” He whispers back, slowly reaching for your waist and carefully pulling you closer to him.
And then you’re on top of him all over again, your thighs spread and straddling him comfortably.
You shake your head, “Cho-“
“I promise,” He urges as he leans back and pulls your upper half with him until he’s resting against his headboard and your face is less than an inch away from his, “I’ll ease my cock in, take it nice ‘nd slow with you if that’s what you want, princess.”
Your body heats up at both his words and how gentle he’s already being, “Choso… We like, just woke up.”
He flashes that stupidly sexy but lazy smile at you, “Not a big fan of morning sex?”
“I actually am but,” You pause for a minute. Your eyes just linger on Choso’s and you feel his hands trail down to your hips, then your thighs, and then he’s squeezing slightly.
Choso leans in, “But…?”
“I’m sore,” You whisper.
“You’re sore,” He echoes as if to say it more to himself than to you. With that, he lets off a little nod before slouching back, “Right. Well, can I at least get a kiss?”
“S’that all you want?” You hum while leaning forward and slipping your arms around his neck.
Choso nods again and his eyes greedily drop down to your lips, “Uhuh.”
His hands start sliding up again, as if he just can’t get enough of touching and feeling you. You grin before your lips are slotting into his, his grasp on you tightening all of a sudden. He feels you whine into the kiss and bites back a smile as his hands continue to slip upward.
Choso’s fingertips dance just barely under the fabric of the shirt you’re wearing (his shirt) and you soon feel him hold onto the bare skin of your hips. His hands weren’t exactly rough but they weren’t the softest either. Choso’s skin was an odd mix of both, some areas were more calloused than the others and you could always tell he used his hands quite a bit.
He slides up again with his touch, holding onto your waist before tugging you even closer and kissing you passionately. You hum against him before he starts easing his tongue into your mouth.
And then the kiss is getting hotter and he’s gasping against your lips when you unintentionally rock your hips against him. 
Choso pries away and drops down to your neck, planting kiss after kiss and relishing in every sigh you let out. “Thought you were sore?” He hums into your skin.
You smile, “I am,” Then you’re tilting your head to give him better access and his hands are dropping back down to your thighs.
“Where?” Choso asks softly while caressing the top of your thighs and still kissing tenderly at your neck.
“The back of my legs, kinda,” You explain quietly with his hands moving the moment you speak, “And my back-, b-but mainly under my thighs.”
“Mh,” Choso hums and then he’s sliding his fingers underneath your thighs and pressing into your skin, earning a noticeable wince from you. “Here?” He whispers.
You nod and he kisses under your jaw, his hands focusing on those sore areas of yours as he massages them carefully. 
This goes on for a while up until your head ends up resting on his shoulder and he massages your legs while you remain seated on top of him. Gasping every time he presses into your skin just right and whining while he soothes your tired muscles, you find your eyes squeezed shut as he touches you.
“Right there, Cho,” You whine, to which he rotates his fingertips against the most recent area he was in.
Choso turns and presses his lips into your neck, “You make this sound so sexual, y’know,” He teases.
You roll your eyes, “It just feels good, a-and I’m not doin’ it on purpose.”
“Sure you aren’t,” He chuckles.
Then, the two of you simmer back into that comfortable silence of yours, his hands working your tense skin with care as you remain as still as possible.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Roughly ten minutes go by until you seem to be a lot more relaxed under his touch. The same artist that’s been playing lowly from the TV can still be heard, Double Fantasy by The Weeknd being the song filling the still air of the room. 
At some point, Choso decides he can start teasing you again and he moves his lips to your ear, “Where else are you sore, pretty girl?” He whispers way too affectionately.
You quickly pull your head away from him and shoot him a pointed look, “I told you my back…”
He meets that little glare of yours with a smirk, “I really did a number on you, huh?” Choso teases while sliding his hands up to your back and soon pressing his fingers against your spine.
You sigh and your lashes flutter in relief, “Uhuh.”
Your best friend continues to soothe you, skillfully running his hands all up and down your back to relieve the tension. And it felt nice to be cared for like this by him. Usually, if you were sick or ever feeling bad— he’d shrug you off and tell you to thug it out (affectionately).
But now? Choso was the sweetest you’ve ever experienced from him. You wondered how long this would last-
“Choso,” You breathe out, having felt his hand wander off.
“Hm?” He hums innocently.
You almost laugh at the man, “That’s my ass.”
He bites back a laugh of his own, “Yeah, I know. You’re not sore here?” Choso questions while he palms and squeezes at the fat of your ass.
“No, Choso,” You snicker, “You just wanted an excuse to touch my ass.”
“Noooo,” He drags out playfully as his smile begins to mirror yours. You raise a brow at him and he quickly folds, “Okay, maybe. But I dunno, I couldn’t help myself. You’re sittin’ on top of me and lookin’ at me like…”
Your head weighs to the side as you search his eyes for an explanation, “Like what?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know how to describe it but it makes me crave you.”
“C-Crave me?” Your lashes bat in surprise and he nods.
Choso’s naturally sleepy features remain neutral as he peers into your eyes, “Mhm.”
You try to laugh his little statement off, “One night with me and now you’re obsessed?”
“Addicted, maybe.” Choso whispers so faintly you almost miss it.
Almost, “Seriously?” You utter in response.
He swallows, sitting there just staring at you while his hand continues mindlessly squeezing your ass. He has such a mellow expression with you right now. You’ve felt comfort with Choso before but never to this degree. Everything about the way he’s looking at you right now is making your heart feel odd.
“No.” He eventually says in a firm tone.
You scrunch your brows, “Cho-“
“I was joking, shut up.” He cuts off— feeling distant with you all over again.
“No you weren’t,” You refute, scoffing at the man, “You really are addicted to me now, aren’t y-“
He’s cutting you off with another kiss, to which you freeze completely. Your brain simply halts at the feel of his lips on yours again. So soft and gentle with you, like he’s been waiting years to do this and wants to sink into this feeling forever. Hell, maybe he has been waiting for years.
It’s nowhere near the first time he’s ever kissed you but, something about your lips on his makes his mind lose all sensible thoughts for a minute. Which is why both of his hands are dropping to your ass and he’s pulling you impossibly closer to him.
He pushes against you a bit harder and you gasp at how needy his hands are on you. Your lips part against him and he gifts your ass with a smack, earning a faint moan from you.
“Fuck,” Choso sears in between your lips, gripping and grabbing at all of you.
Your chest is pressed tightly against his and because of his tight grip on you, you can’t help the gentle rock of your hips against him.
Seconds, it takes mere seconds for you to feel his cock poking up at your unclothed cunt.
Then Choso’s snatching his lips off of yours and dropping to your neck again, “Don’t stop,” He groans, “Please.”
You moan at the way he shifts one hand to your hips and constantly tugs you against him, grunting hotly into your neck as he feels your bare cunt rub against his cock— one flimsy layer left between the two of you.
“C-Cho, we shouldn’t-,” You’re cut off by him gently lifting his hips against you, a soft gasp escaping you instead.
“Why?” He breathes, moving to grab your ass as you grind against him a bit harder, “We have the whole day to ourselves,” Choso whispers.
You toss your head back and he starts sucking on your neck, careful not to leave a mark. “B-Because… we just, hah, we shouldn’t.”
He scoffs, “Scared of noise complaints?”
“No?”
“Should be,” Choso hums as he bites back a throaty groan from the way he feels you right against his tip. “Shit, did you-, hah, notice what I did to the wall yet?”
Your brows twist up before you turn and catch sight of a rather large hole in the wall, one caused by Choso’s previous roughness with you and the bed knocking into it a little too hard.
“Choso!” You gasp, “How the hell did you-“
“I knew I heard somethin’ last night too,” He chuckles, “I was just too wrapped up in you to care.”
“You-“
“I’m sorry,” Choso breathes out almost finally before reenacting his acts from last night and swiftly flipping the two of you over, pinning you down against his bed and rolling his cock down hard against you.
You gasp, “Oh fuck-, why’re you s-so…”
He tilts his head, the veins decorating his arms flexing, “So what?” He breathes.
“Fuckin’ hard,” You nearly laugh, smiling a bit at the man, “We just woke up not too long ago. H-How do you get turned on so easily?”
Choso chuckles as if to taunt you, “You do know I can feel you right?”
“Huh?”
“I’m not the only one turned on,” He scoffs, leaning down to speak while his lips graze yours, “I can feel how wet you are, idiot.”
You gulp, “I…”
Choso nibbles on your lower lip and tugs for a moment before whispering, “Let’s jus’ make it quick, yeah?”
“Choso.” You utter sternly in protest.
“Promise,” He pants, “I promise it’ll be quick-, maybe I’ll jus’ put the tip in, c’mon.” His hips mash down against yours, causing the outline of his erect cock to push further against you.
You moan, “Mgh, but-“
“I need you,” Choso groans, sounding almost pained, “Jus’ a little bit more of you, please,” He whines.
“Fuck, o-okay, fine-“
And then he’s kissing you again, rutting his clothed cock against you over and over while he messily reaches his hands down to his sweats. Snatching at his drawstring, eager to remove the tiring layer of clothing, Choso’s kissing you like his life depends on it.
You’re such an idiot— giving into your best friend for yet a second time in a row. Were you addicted? Isn’t this wrong? Choso’s your best friend. Your best friend.
He’s just about to pull his sweatpants down before he’s rudely interrupted by the ringing of the apartment doorbell.
You both freeze, panting heavily as if you’ve been caught doing something you had no business doing. Gulping, Choso lets out a long and frustrated groan before dropping his head into the crook of your neck.
“Can we just ignore them?” He asks you.
You giggle, “No, it’s probably one of our neighbors.”
“Oh,” Choso practically smiles at that, “You’re right. They’re probably here to give us an earful about our noise last night. Or well, your noise-“
“Shut up and go answer the door,” You scoff, “I’ll probably be here when you get back.”
“Probably?” Choso questions as he sits up and slides out of his bed.
You shrug, “I might run back to my room while you’re distracted so uh, be quick.”
A wink is sent to the man and he fights the urge to just stare at you in awe. You probably have no idea how you look right now, wearing his shirt, one of the many hickeys he left on you poking out from your collarbone, laying in his bed all tired but horny because of him-
Okay, enough of that for now. Choso shakes himself out of his little reverie and glances around his bedroom floor to spot a different pair of sweats to slip into. He swiftly does so, groaning in discomfort while he turns his back to you and debates on putting a shirt on.
You lay in his bed staring at him, your eyes widening at his back profile and the numerous bright red scratch marks decorating his skin. Damn, did you do that last night?
You almost smile at the sight but in the corner of your eye, for whatever reason, the lyrics to the song from earlier seem to catch your attention. Said song was over by now but the last end of the hook was fading out. Brightly reading the words ‘Even though it’s wrong’.
Now, it’s just a song but you can’t help but find it funny considering you just had sex with Choso last night, and almost again just a few seconds ago. It’s almost like you were forgetting something-
“See what you did t’my back last night?” Choso’s voice tugs you from your mind and you look at him.
Scoffing, “Looks like you were attacked.” You comment teasingly.
Choso tosses the shirt he was considering putting on and shrugs, “Does it?”
“Yeah,” You sigh, laying on your side and watching him glance into his bedroom mirror.
The man turns around briefly to admire the marks left on him and he grins, “Holy shit,” Choso breathes, smiling at the sight, “I looked at it a bit last night but fuck, you clawed at me like crazy.”
“…Did you not feel it while you were fucking me down into the mattress ‘nd telling me to ‘take it’ for like twenty minutes straight?” You ask dryly.
He pretends to think for a long moment and opens his mouth to say something snarky but another ring of the doorbell cuts him off.
“Better go get that,” You hum playfully.
Choso groans, clearly annoyed by the constant interruption before swiftly exiting the room. Entering the hall, passing the living room and the kitchen, and soon approaching the door.
He lets out a yawn as he unlocks the door and soon opens it, “If this is about the noise last night, I jus’ wanna cut this short by sayin’ I’m-, oh,” Choso cuts himself short as he makes eye contact with the person awkwardly standing at the door.
The man in front of him furrows his brows, “I uh-“
Choso interrupts by putting a hand up and glancing back inside the apartment, “Door’s for you!” He shouts back to you. Then, he looks at the person in front of him one more time, sizes him up, and scoffs, “She’ll be out in a sec'.”
The man opens his mouth to reply but Choso rudely slams the door in his face.
Frustrated, and with his mood almost completely ruined, Choso groans again as he makes his way back to his bedroom. As he walks in, he spots you sitting on the edge of his bed looking down at something on the floor before you look back at him over your shoulder.
“What do you mean the door’s for me?” You ask softly, “And uh,” He watches you lean down to pick up a tarnished piece of fabric, “When the hell did you rip my panties?”
“Last night, duh,” Choso huffs out rather sassily before brushing past his bed and heading toward his bathroom.
“You owe me a new pair,” You tell him with a pout on your face.
With no emotion in his voice, “I’ll buy you twenty.” He says curtly before disappearing into his bathroom completely.
You scoff at his sudden attitude and dismissal of your first question, moving to stand on slightly wobbly legs as you extend your arms into the air to stretch. Sighing, you glance around to find your shorts, soon spotting them and slipping into them before exiting the room.
Every step you take, you feel faint soreness but you think the medicine and massage Choso gave you helped your body not to feel too bad. As such, you steadily make your way to the front door— wondering if there’s a package for you or something. You still get the feel you’re forgetting something but between that and Choso’s sudden grumpiness, you just-
Every thought of yours comes to a sudden halt as you swing open the door.
“S-Satoru?” You breathe.
Oh, so that’s what you’d been forgetting. Gojo Satoru, y’know, the guy you’ve been getting along with better than you ever have with any other guy you know, the guy who’s nothing but a gentleman to you, the guy who you were literally dancing with less than twenty-four hours with, the-
Yeah, you get the point. Either way, you’re left staring up at the man with your eyes as wide as ever and your breath caught in the middle of your throat. Staring into Gojo’s kindhearted and dazzling blue eyes, feeling an abrupt rack of guilt lump up in your chest as your mind scrambles for some way to process your situation.
Swallowing thicker than ever, you slowly step out into the hall with him and shut your apartment door behind you, “What uh-, w-why-, what’re you doing here?” You stammer out with the faintest shake in your voice.
Gojo moves to scratch the back of his neck, “If I’m being honest, I’m not too sure myself.”
Blinking in confusion, you tilt your head, “What?”
“I just-,” Gojo sighs, “You didn’t respond at all last night or this morning, so I got a little worried…”
“So… you show up at my apartment?” You question further as you raise a brow at the man.
He winces, “Is that weird-, this, is this weird?” Gojo asks as he gestures to his being here.
Maybe if you weren’t guilty of sleeping with your best friend it wouldn’t be…
“U-Uh, no?” You huff out almost awkwardly, “I just wasn’t expecting you, sorry. My phone died on me last night and I never plugged it up.”
He nods before glancing to the side, “Busy with other things?” 
You choke on your own guilt all over again, “I-I’m sorry?”
“Your roommate said somethin’ about a noise complaint,” Gojo recalls simply as he looks at you once more.
Your brows go up, “Did he? Well, that’s probably from whatever he was up to before I got home.”
Gojo tilts his head at you and you feel as though he could see right through you, “Riight…” He hums, “Anyway, I just came over to make sure you were okay.”
“I appreciate that Gojo but what could’ve possibly have happened to me from last night when you dropped me off to this morning?” You point out to the man with a little laugh. Sure, regret and guilt were eating you alive right now but that still doesn't explain Gojo’s sudden appearance, “I live with someone I’ve known for like eight years.”
“I don’t know-, wait, you’ve known him for eight years?” He redirects as he narrows his eyes at you.
“I met him during my freshman year of high school, Satoru,” You chuckle, “He’s my best friend.”
“Is that all?” Gojo blurts out.
You blink, “Huh?”
The man gulps, having not meant to ask that so suddenly, “Like, are you two just best friends?”
“That’s what I just said, yes.” You reply straightforwardly.
“I-“
Quick to snap back at the man for questioning you in an accusing manner, “Aren’t you and Geto just best friends?” 
“Yeah,” He murmurs.
“Is that all?” You ask with a smirk.
“Of course-,” He cuts himself off with a scoff, “Okay, I see what you did there.”
“Mhm,” You hum, “So if that’s all then uh,” You slowly begin to motion toward the door behind you.
Gojo reaches a hand out, “Wait, are you free today?”
You pause, “Depends on what for.”
“Me,” He shrugs.
“Am I free for you today?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmmmm, I dunno, I gotta check my schedule, Satoru.” You say teasingly as you lean left against the doorframe, “I’m a busy woman, y’know…”
Those pretty rose-tinted lips of his curve into a smirk, “Oh are you now?”
You smile, “Mhmm..”
Gojo takes a little step closer and lifts his shoulders, “Can’t you spare some of your time for your favorite barista?”
“I can consider,” You tell him before eyeing the man up and down, “What did you wanna do with me anyway?”
“Jus’ hang out.” He explains simply.
“That’s all?”
“Mhm.”
Clicking your tongue, “I would but, I was planning on taking a bit of a rain check today.”
“Oh,” Gojo hums, his brows lifting in surprise, “That’s uh-, that’s cool. I mean, yeah, no, that’s-“
“Satoru,” You snort.
He stops himself from making even more of a fool of himself, clearing his throat and meeting your gaze, “Yes?”
Lifting a finger, you gesture him to come closer and he shuffles his feet toward you. Then, you reach up for his shirt and carefully pull him down to you.
“Stop being such a dork,” You sigh with a smile on your face. Then you plant a kiss on his cheek and hug him, “And thank you for coming to check on me.”
Gojo’s body goes still for a moment while you wrap your arms around his neck and push up on your toes to hug him fully. After which, his arms are engulfing your waist and he’s letting out a sigh as he reciprocates your hug.
“Anytime,” He murmurs, his hands caressing your back, “Sorry if I made things weird…”
You chuckle, “You’re fine, Satoru. You jus’ surprised me, that’s all.” You slowly retract from the hug and meet his eyes one last time, “So… I’ll see you Monday morning?”
He nods, “Yeah.”
And with that, the two of you are steady to say your goodbyes to one another— soon parting ways as you watch him leave before disappearing back into your apartment and letting you the heaviest sigh ever.
Silence engulfs you as you stand there at the door for a moment. What are you? Some kinda slut? You literally had sexual interactions with not one, but two men on the same night.
Christ, what the hell got into you last night (aside from Choso)? Now the guilt was really settling in. It hit you earlier when you first laid eyes on Gojo but now that you’ve spoken to him, it’s like you feel even worse.
How could you completely forget him last night? The guy went out of his way to show up the next morning just to make sure you were okay and yet there you were, having just been pulled away from having sex with your best friend for a second time. This was so beyond fucked up-
“Y’know if all else fails,” The sound of your brown-haired best friend speaking tugs you out of your thoughts, “You should really consider acting because that was-“
“Oh my god, Choso,” You instantly let out a long groan, turning around to glance at him standing in the nearby kitchen, “Please shut the hell up.”
He frowns, “What’d I do?”
A sigh of frustration is let out, “Me. You did me, and that’s the problem.”
His face contorts to confusion as your statement hits his ears, “How? It’s not like you’re dating the guy.”
He makes a rather good point there but that doesn’t stop you from feeling guilty about forgetting about him and lying to him. “But I like him.” You argue.
Choso rolls his eyes, “So? What does that-“
“A lot,” You emphasize.
Your best friend cocks his head to the side and crosses his arms, “You like him ‘a lot’ but you let me fuck you last night?” 
At that, your breath is caught in your throat, “I…”
He heaves out a really heavy sigh, “Look, if it makes you feel any better, I won’t say anything to him.”
You meet his gaze with thankful eyes, “Really?”
“Yeah,” Choso shrugs, “We had sex, who cares. Why would I go out of my way to tell him that?”
“Because you hate me and find joy in my suffering,” You comment jokingly.
He laughs, “I don’t hate you.”
“Debatable,” You argue, “But anyway, thanks.”
Then, you move away from the door and slowly start walking in the direction of your bedroom.
“Mhm,” Choso hums, his eyes following you, “So, are we gonna pick up where we left off or-“
You’re quick to cut him off and not allow yourself to let him have his way with you yet again— you feel shitty enough as is, “Not in the mood anymore, Cho.”
Choso, not fazed by your rejection in the slightest, merely nods, “Another time then?”
The last thing you say to him is a crisp, “No.” Before you disappear into your bedroom and shut your door behind you.
There’s the slightest panging felt in Choso’s heart at the sound of that but he ignores that feeling entirely. ‘No’, you said. He scoffs, yeah right, let’s see how long that lasts…
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