#oh my fucking god this took me so long jesus
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daryltwdixon · 22 hours ago
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I want to give Joel Miller a lap dance. Feel his hands all over my body as I grind into him and he moans my name. He'll be begging to be inside me and I'll finally give in and ride him until he fills me up with his cum. That's it. That's the request. (Jesus, it's suddenly hot in here, huh?)
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Joel x Reader Happy Birthday
warnings: straight smut MDNI
I listened to I See Red by Everybody Loves an Outlaw while writing
a/n: oh, anon. you did something to me here. I've been thinking about it all day. I took it in a slightly different direction but anyway. another note: I am not the kinda woman who gives lap dances, so this could actually be terrible. enjoy x
It started with the heels. Those fucking heels. You couldn’t say no to them. They were just sitting there on a shelf in the middle of a patrol gone sideways, taunting you.
A rainstorm had hit mid-September in Wyoming, and you and your patrol partner had taken refuge in an old strip mall. The clothing store you holed up in was mostly picked over, but there were still odds and ends for the community back in Jackson—stuff to stock the closet for kids and newcomers.
And then there were the heels. Black, shiny, the kind of tall that bordered on dangerous. They might’ve been ridiculous for patrol, but god, you’d always loved how they looked in those pre-outbreak magazines. The kind of shoes that made women look powerful and untouchable. So, with a “fuck it” shrug, you’d stuffed them into your backpack and thought, Joel’s birthday is coming up anyway.
The idea had snowballed from there. You’d scavenged through the library’s dusty stock of CDs and hit the jackpot: the perfect song. The rest fell into place, one piece at a time, until tonight. Now here you were, standing in front of the mirror, nerves simmering under the surface as you took in your reflection.
The heels did exactly what you’d imagined, making your legs look miles long. The black lace panties you’d picked weren’t the practical kind you usually wore—these were high-cut, with delicate details that felt scandalous against your skin. The bralette matched, sheer enough to leave almost nothing to the imagination, with just enough wire to push your breasts up like a dare. You swallowed hard, heat pooling low in your belly.
To steady yourself, you grabbed one of Joel’s plaid shirts from the bed and slipped it on. The soft, worn fabric still smelled like him—earthy, warm, familiar. The contrast between the shirt and what was underneath made your pulse quicken. It was the anticipation, the audacity of what you were about to do, that left you breathless.
Before you could second-guess yourself, you moved to the living area. Dragging one of the armless chairs from the kitchen table, you placed it squarely in the middle of the room. The boombox was already prepped, the song queued up and ready. With one last deep breath, you perched on the chair and waited.
Waited for Joel to walk through the door.
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Joel trudged up the porch steps, every bone in his body aching from patrol. It had been a long one, the kind that left him bone-weary and ready to drop. He pushed the door open, boots heavy against the floor as he shrugged out of his jacket.
“Hey,” he called over his shoulder, voice low and gruff, more out of habit than effort. He didn’t look up, his focus on loosening the laces of his boots, mind already wandering to the promise of a hot shower and a quiet night.
“Happy birthday, handsome.”
Your voice stopped him mid-motion. Warm, teasing, the kind of sound that made him glance up without thinking. He froze, the boot in his hand forgotten as his brain struggled to catch up with what he was seeing.
You were sitting in the middle of the living room, legs crossed like you had all the time in the world. And yet it wasn’t just you sitting there—it was everything else. The heels. The shirt—his shirt—hanging loose over your frame, barely buttoned, leaving enough undone to make his pulse stutter. His eyes followed the long line of your legs, the curve of your thighs, and those damn heels. Shiny, black and undeniably sexy. And then his eyes trailed up, stopping at the curve of her neck, her collarbones, the delicate lace peeking through.
Joel’s throat went dry. He blinked once, then again, like maybe he was seeing things. But no, you were real. You were there. And goddamn, you looked like that.
“What...what’s all this, baby?” he managed, his voice rougher than usual, the words scraping out like he barely had the strength to speak.
You tilted your head, playful and soft all at once, and he hated how it made him feel—off-kilter, like you had all the control in the room. “I told you,” you said, your voice light, teasing but edged with something else. “Happy birthday.”
Joel’s gaze stayed locked on you, his boots still half-off, his body halfway between exhaustion and something else entirely. He shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite himself. “Darlin’, you didn’t have to do all this.” His voice was low, a teasing edge there, but the heat behind his words was undeniable.
You felt your stomach flip, but you held your ground, stepping closer to him until your hands rested gently on his chest. His warmth seeped through the fabric of his shirt, the steady rise and fall of his breath grounding you even as your own felt unsteady.
“I know,” you murmured, your tone soft but steady. “But I wanted to. And you deserve it.”
Joel’s smirk deepened, his hands instinctively finding your hips, rough fingers grazing the fabric of his shirt draped over you. “You sure about that? ‘Cause all I’m thinkin’ is takin’ you straight to our room and thankin’ you proper.”
His words sent a flush of heat through you, but you held firm, giving his chest a gentle push. “Not yet,” you said, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Sit down,.”
He raised a brow, his grip on your hips tightening just enough to let you know he wasn’t fully on board. “Darlin’, I’m not exactly in the mood to—”
You pressed your palms more firmly against him, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Sit, Joel.”
The quiet authority in your tone made his resistance falter. He let out a low chuckle, more breath than sound, and leaned back, allowing you to guide him into the chair. His knees spread as he settled in, his arms resting loosely on his thighs, but his eyes never left you.
“One rule,” you said softly, holding up a finger. You sauntered over to the boombox that had been waiting on the side table, taking your finger and hovering over ‘play’. 
“No touching.”
And then the music started.
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Your heart was in your throat by now, pounding in time with the heavy thrum of anticipation in your veins. Each deliberate sway of your hips felt like a challenge, and Joel’s eyes tracked every movement as you took slow, pointed steps toward him.
When you reached him, you placed your hands on his knees, leaning down just enough to let the hem of his plaid shirt ride up slightly. You arched your back, pushing your hips out and rolling them in a way that made the lace of your bra peek tantalizingly through the gap in the shirt. His eyes were locked on you, dark and intent, and when you glanced up, you caught him biting his lip, his gaze riveted to the skin you’d left exposed, as though he was imagining how it might feel under his hands.
With every movement, you swung your hips, each roll precise and deliberate. Your hands slid up to your hair, combing through it as you turned your back on him, walking a few slow, teasing steps away. Your hips dipped low with each step, your movements fluid, your intention clear. When you turned back to face him, your fingers found the buttons of his shirt still hanging off your shoulders. You began to undo them one by one, each step bringing you closer to him until the last button came undone.
The shirt slid from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You kicked it aside, standing before him in nothing but the black lace he was now openly staring at. Joel’s pupils had blown wide, his chest rising and falling with barely restrained tension. He leaned back in the chair, his arms locking behind his head, biceps flexing as though he was physically restraining himself from reaching out. For now, at least, he seemed willing to play along with your game.
Turning around, you hovered just above his lap, bending forward as you rolled your hips, letting your ass dip and brush teasingly against his legs. Your hands trailed over your own body, mapping the curve of your waist and hips as you moved. The heat of his gaze burned into your skin, and you smiled to yourself before finally lowering onto his lap, spreading your legs as you settled against him.
You leaned back slightly, letting your ass press firmly against him, and you felt it—the undeniable hardness straining against his jeans. Your heart quickened, and a teasing smile curved your lips as you glanced over your shoulder at him. His jaw was tight, his teeth clenched, his dark eyes fixed on the way you moved against him.
Joel let out a low, guttural sound as you bent forward, tracing your hands along the floor, your body folding in half over him. His hips bucked up against you then, a reflex he couldn’t seem to control, and you smirked, slipping to the floor and crawling forward on your knees until you turned to face him.
Sliding your hands onto his knees, your eyes met his as he finally spoke, his voice rough, edged with tension. “Oh, so you can touch me, huh?”
“Obviously,” you murmured, the smirk on your lips daring him as your hands trailed up his thighs. He sucked in a sharp breath, his arms still locked behind his head as though anchoring himself, but his hips twitched up toward your touch. Your hands slid higher, over his chest, as you pulled yourself back into his lap, facing him chest to chest.
Your hands slid to your hips as you rolled against him, each movement slow, deliberate, and purposeful. You thought of all the ways he’d gone crazy for you before, the rhythm that always left him undone when you rode his cock, and you worked it now with an extra swivel, a teasing twist to your hips.
“You’re a nasty little thing, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick and gravelly, like he was speaking through clenched teeth. His eyes zeroed in on the straps of your bra as they slid down your shoulders with every roll of your body. The hunger in his gaze made your stomach flip, and you could almost feel the weight of his restraint, like he was moments away from tearing the lace off you with his teeth.
A soft whimper escaped your lips as you ground harder against him, unable to ignore the growing wetness between your thighs or the way your body clenched around nothing. You pushed against his denim-clad hard-on, slow and deliberate, and watched as his eyes squeezed shut, his head tipping back as though he was holding on by a thread.
Sliding your hands up to his neck and then down to flatten against his chest, you leaned closer, wanting to kiss him so fucking bad, but keeping yourself away. If you kissed him, your resistance would falter, and there’d be no going back.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his head tipping back slightly, his neck arching into your touch as though chasing the warmth of your hands. His breath was shallow now, his chest rising and falling beneath your palms as the tension between you thickened, taut and electric.
You barely catch him breathing your name, a whimper, before he was begging, “Please,”
“Please what, Joel?” you whispered back, teasing, even though your own restraint was slipping. You stood then, turning away from him slowly, your hips swaying in time with his ragged breaths. Bending over, you slid your fingers to the waistband of your lace panties, tugging them just enough to reveal a hint of bare skin, only to let them snap back into place.
His head snapped up, his eyes glued to your hands. “I need—” His voice broke, and he dragged his hands down his thighs, rubbing them as though desperate to release some of the tension coiling in his body. “I need to feel you, baby. Please.”
You looked over your shoulder, your lips curling into a soft smile. “Not yet,” you said, your voice low and teasing as you turned back toward him. You lowered yourself into his lap again, back to his chest and your movements slow, deliberate, savoring every inch of contact as you rolled against him.
Joel groaned again, the sound rough and primal, his hands still locked behind his head as though holding onto the last shred of control. You pressed harder against him, rolling your hips deliberately, savoring the friction of his rock hard cock beneath you. The sensation sent a jolt straight through you, and before you could stop yourself, a soft, breathless moan slipped from your lips.
That was all it took.
Joel’s restraint snapped. His arms moved like lightning, one snaking around your waist, pulling you flush against him, while the other slid up, his large, calloused hand curling around the side of your neck. His grip wasn’t tight, just firm enough to hold you in place, to make you feel completely surrounded by him.
“Breakin’ your own rules, huh?” His voice was a low rasp in your ear, thick with desire and edged with the kind of authority that made heat flood through your entire body. His scruff brushed against the curve of your jaw, tickling and scraping in a way that sent sparks down your spine, every nerve alight. “Makin’ all those damn rules and can’t even follow ‘em yourself.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine as his lips barely grazed the shell of your ear. “You want me to be patient,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, “but here you are, grindin’ on me, moanin’ like you’re beggin’ me to lose control.”
Your breath hitched, your hands instinctively flying to his forearm where it rested against your neck. His grip didn’t falter, holding you there as his hips shifted beneath you, just enough to press his hardness firmly against your core. The sound that escaped your lips this time was a mix of surprise and need, and it only made his hold tighten.
“You feel that?” he growled, his lips brushing your ear again, the rasp of his voice sending waves of heat through you. “That’s what you do to me, baby. You keep teasin’ me, and I’m gonna give you exactly what you’re askin’ for.”
Before you could respond, his grip on your neck shifted slightly, firm but careful, his other hand trailing up from your waist. “Now let’s see what you’ve been hidin’ from me here, huh?” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous in your ear.
His fingers found the lace of your bra, tugging it down until your breasts spilled free. The sound that rumbled from his chest was almost feral, a deep growl that made heat pool low in your belly. He cupped one of your breasts in his hand, the warmth of his palm making you arch into his touch. His thumb brushed over your nipple, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you before he pinched and rolled it between his fingers.
You gasped, your back arching further into him, but he wasn’t done. He brought the same hand to your other breast, the calloused pads of his fingers rough against your sensitive skin. He squeezed gently, then let his palm deliver a quick, stinging slap that made you jolt in his lap.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart. The sting melted into warmth, the sensation sharp and thrilling, and you couldn’t help but roll your hips harder against him, desperate for more.
Joel’s lips found the side of your neck, brushing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough with need as his hands continued to explore you, alternating between firm, teasing squeezes and sharp, delicious slaps. “Let me hear those pretty noises. Don’t hold back now.”
The way he rolled and teased your nipples made your head tip back against his shoulder, a soft moan spilling from your lips as his mouth found the curve of your neck. His teeth scraped lightly against your skin, making your nerves spark, your hips bucking in his lap.
“You’re so damn sensitive,” he rasped against your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. His hands trailed lower, brushing over your ribs, fingertips grazing your stomach as they worked their way to the waistband of your panties. “Been drivin’ me crazy all night, wearin’ this...all for me, huh?”
You could only nod, your voice caught somewhere between a gasp and a plea. Joel chuckled low in your ear, the sound rough and teasing, as he hooked his thumbs under the delicate lace and tugged it downward, inch by inch, exposing you to the cool air and his burning gaze.
“Use your words pretty girl,” he muttered, his voice full of reverence and something darker, more primal. He shifted beneath you, one hand returning to your waist to hold you steady as the other worked the panties down past your thighs.
“All yours, Joel. I’m yours.” you breathed, hips rolling as his hands worked the fabric slip past your knees, pooling on the floor as his hands returned to your bare skin. He traced the curve of your thighs and pulled them open wider across his lap. The heat of him pressed against your core, and the rough denim only heightened the aching need coursing through you.
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you gripped his forearms, trying to steady yourself.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, his hands steady and warm as they explored the newly exposed skin. His fingers slid up your inner thighs, deliberate and slow, brushing so close to where you needed him most but never quite touching. The tease was unbearable, your hips shifting instinctively to chase his touch.
“Not so fast,” he growled, his grip tightening on your thighs to hold you still. “You wanted to take your time, didn’t you? You’re gonna sit here and feel every second of this.”
His words made your breath hitch, the commanding edge in his voice sending another wave of heat pooling low in your belly. His hands trailed higher, his fingertips brushing just shy of your center, so close you could feel the heat of his touch but not the pressure you craved.
“Please,” you whimpered, arching back against him, your body practically trembling in his grasp.
“Patience, darlin’,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear again, his voice nothing more than a rough whisper. “I’m gonna take my time with you. Gonna make sure you feel all of it.”
Joel’s hands finally slid higher, his rough fingertips ghosting over the slick heat between your thighs. The barest touch sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively arching into him, desperate for more. He hummed low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your neck as his lips brushed over your skin.
“So wet for me,” he murmured, his voice a gravelly whisper. His fingers parted your lips slowly, exploring with a deliberate tenderness that made all the breath in your lungs tighten. “Could feel this pussy on me the whole time. Makin’ a mess of me.”
You whimpered, your hands gripping his forearms as his touch grew more confident, circling your most sensitive spot with slow, teasing precision. The pressure was just enough to send sparks shooting through you, your hips rocking into his hand as your breath hitched.
“Easy now, baby” he growled, his other arm tightening around your waist to hold you steady against him. “Daddy’s gon’ take good care of ya.”
He pressed a finger inside you, slow and deliberate, his thick, calloused touch stretching you just enough to make your head fall back against his shoulder. A low moan escaped your lips, your body trembling as he began to move, each stroke deliberate and unhurried.
“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice full of awe as he watched the way you writhed in his lap. “So beautiful, baby. You feel how good you’re takin’ me?”
You nodded, your words lost to the pleasure building deep inside you. He added another finger, the stretch making your toes curl as his pace quickened just slightly. His thumb brushed against your clit with every stroke, drawing a strangled moan from your throat as the tension in your belly coiled tighter.
Joel’s lips found the shell of your ear, his breath hot and heavy. “That’s it,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “Let go, darlin’. Let me feel this pretty pussy,”
His words sent you over the edge, the pressure finally snapping as your body tensed, waves of pleasure crashing through you. You cried out his name, your hands clutching at his arms as he worked you through it, his fingers moving steadily, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until you were left trembling in his lap, boneless and breathless.
He finally slowed, his movements gentle as he eased his fingers from you, his arm still holding you close. He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck, his voice softer now but no less heated. “Good girl,” he murmured, his tone full of pride and affection.
Joel’s lips lingered on your neck, his breath still warm against your skin as his hand slid back to your waist, grounding you. The tension between you was electric, your body still trembling in the aftermath of his touch, but the need hadn’t faded—it had only sharpened.
You shifted in his lap, the friction of his jeans against your sensitive skin making you gasp softly. His grip tightened on your hips, steadying you as his lips brushed your ear. “What’re you doin’, darlin’?” he murmured, though his voice was rough, and his hips twitched up into you despite the question.
You turned slightly, your lips curling into a teasing smile as you met his dark, hungry gaze. “Taking care of you now,” you whispered, your hands finding his chest as you pushed yourself upright.
Joel’s eyes followed your every movement as you reached for the button of his jeans, your fingers working with deliberate slowness, savoring the way his jaw clenched and his chest heaved beneath your touch. When you finally slid the zipper down, the strained fabric gave way, and you couldn’t help the way you always were caught by surprise as his thick hardness sprang free, hot and heavy in your hand.
He groaned low in his throat as you wrapped your fingers around him, giving him a slow stroke that had his head tipping back against the chair. “Christ,” he muttered, his hands gripping your thighs, his voice rough and unsteady. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”
You smiled, a mix of nerves and confidence swirling in your chest as you lifted yourself onto your knees, positioning yourself over him. His hands moved instinctively to your hips, guiding you, steadying you as you lined yourself up. The heat of him pressed against you, and you bit your lip, slowly sinking down until he filled you completely. You’d never get used to his size, the sheer stretch of him.
Both of you let out matching groans, the sensation overwhelming as you adjusted to him. Joel’s hands tightened on your hips, his grip firm but reverent, as though he was trying to hold himself back from taking every inch he wanted.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, his voice low and wrecked. “Always so fuckin’ good for me. So tight.”
You braced your hands on his chest, your breath hitching as you began to move. Slowly at first, rocking your hips in a rhythm that had his fingers digging into your skin. The way he stretched and filled you sent shivers through your body, and you couldn’t help the soft moans that spilled from your lips.
Joel’s eyes were locked on you, dark and intense as he watched every roll of your hips. You leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “Feel good, daddy?”
“Fuck yes,” he growled, his hips bucking up to meet your movements. “Don’t stop, baby. Don’t you fuckin’ stop.”
You didn’t. You rode him harder, the friction and fullness building to a crescendo that had your breath coming in ragged gasps. Joel was unraveling beneath you, his groans and growls spurring you on as you chased the pleasure coiling tight in your belly.
His hands slid from your hips, one trailing up your back to steady you, while the other moved with purpose, his palm curling around the side of your neck. The pressure was firm, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make your breath catch, the sensation sending a sharp jolt of heat straight through you, making you clench around him.
“Fuck,” you gasped, your movements faltering for just a moment before the delicious contrast between his grip and the fullness of him inside you pushed you further. Joel’s dark eyes burned into yours, his expression one of pure control, his lips curling in a low growl.
“You like that, huh?” he rasped, his voice rough and commanding as his thumb brushed lightly over your throat. “Your pussy sure seems to like it, hunny–clenching around me like a fuckin’ vice with my hand around your pretty throat.”
You whimpered, nodding as the tension in your body coiled tighter. His grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of his strength, enough to make you feel completely at his mercy.
“That’s it,” Joel murmured, his hips bucking up into you as you moved faster, harder, chasing the fire building between you. “Take what you need, baby. Let me hear you.”
The intensity of his hand on your neck, the way he filled you completely with every thrust, and the heat of his gaze locking you in place—all of it came together in a rush of overwhelming pleasure. The tension snapped, and you cried out his name, your body trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you.
Joel groaned, his own release hitting him as your body clenched around him. His hand remained on your neck, holding you steady as his other hand gripped your hip, anchoring you to him. His voice was low and broken as he growled your name, his body shuddering beneath yours.
As the last tremors faded, his grip softened, the hand around your neck sliding up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed tenderly over your cheek, a stark contrast to the raw passion of moments before. You collapsed against him, your breaths uneven, your heart still racing as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with only the sound of your ragged breathing and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.
Then you tilted your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone before murmuring, “So, a good birthday then?”
His chest rumbled with a quiet laugh, his hand cupping the back of your head as he kissed your temple. “Best damn birthday I’ve ever had, darlin’.”
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uncorkedhead · 7 months ago
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Lost in Paradise
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year ago
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...
#just an observation bc im avoiding working on stuff but i draw a lot and post basically everything i draw thst gets finished#and its v funny to me how u can tell how out of focus i was based on the quality of the drawing#or like when i post something and its like ok some of that was good but u def gave up halfway thru one of those lol#inconsistency i funny like that. its also funny to me that now a days i get comments like COLORS!!!#which is funny bc i notoriously haaaaaate coloring. like i will sit around whining and complaining when im home with my parents bc i dont#wanna color. its just so easy to fuck things up when u draw traditionally and it takes a million years so its a big ask lol#but i guess i dont hate is so much right now bc i kinda just slap whatever colors i want together like fuck it we ball#and thats kinda fun. reckless i suppose#its agony when u wanna try to do shadows and lights tho. like finding references ugh#or wanting to draw big ideas but then its like oh god its gonna take so long and if i dont do it all in one sitting i might die#im a lil better abt thst now bc it would b impossible but in my head i still hate it#ugh. all i wanna do is draw. theres another universe where i went to art school. or just like took art classes. and i wanna say id b happier#but thats def a lie XD i like learning too much and i dont have the attention span to hardcore learn genetics outside an academic#environment. and i got way too excited abt exploring the genetic traits of my cyano species#like i can make genetics trees for traits and look for. fuck. i forgot the word. how tf did i forget the word. oh god. horizontal gene#transfer. jesus christ its like theres a hole in my brain. well. i guess i did get only like 4hrs sleep. ugh im rambling.#i need to finish getting ready for Monday so i dont have to tomorrow and ill have time to draw. prob wont stop me feeling nauseous abt#teaching tho. OH FUCK. i just remembered i have a new office space now to decorate. fuck i need to hang up pictures and stuff#what would b the funniest way to put narut0 on my deskspace? idk ill have to think abt it. oh god im not ready#my head is like a handbell. one of the big ones when u ring it and it hits soft and u can feel the vibrations. someones wrung my head lol#unrelated
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mango-harvest · 1 year ago
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..........Im guilty
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pedropascallme · 4 months ago
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☆Kinktober 2024☆
Day 3: Breeding
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) p in v sex, breeding kink/creampie, dirty talk, Joel cannot shut the fuck up, spanking, if I missed anything please let me know!
“Keep your legs up, ‘round my waist—there y’go,” Joel mumbled his words into your ear, the scruff of his beard scratching the side of your face as he spoke.
He hadn’t said a word to you when he’d gotten home, riled up and pissed off at yet another ill-prepared patrolman who had nearly let it all go to hell. He’d opted instead to shuck off his jacket, leaving a trail of shoes and socks in the front hall before using his whole body to pull you into a bruising, much needed kiss.
You didn’t mind. You liked when he used you to blow off some steam, especially after being gone for so long.
So there you lay, spread out on the kitchen table for him, your hands in his hair. You planted your lips on him wherever they could reach when he leaned over you to admire the way your expression changed when he moved.
“Joel, Jesus Christ—so deep,” your moans were chesty, thick with the desire you’d been waiting all week to share with him.
And by god, was he delivering.
“Just gotta whip this pussy back into proper shape,” his hands caressed your sides, and when he reached your hips he dug his fingers into your skin so harshly that they’d be sure to leave bruises. He used his grip as leverage to drag you over his cock. “Only been a week and she almost forgot me.”
“Never—oh,” you whimpered when he moved one hand off of you before using it to deliver a sharp smack against your thigh, “Never forget about you, Joel—oh, fuck—feel so good, I nev—never forget about it.”
“Gonna have to make sure,” he moaned at your praise. Pressing his hips firm against you, he deepened his strokes and increased his pace ever so slightly.
You whined, head falling back against the table as your eyes closed, heightening the pleasure of the position he had you in and the way he spoke.
“Sound good?” He continued, landing another spank on your thigh, “Look at me—is that what you want?” He grabbed you by the calves, pushing your legs to your chest and bending forward to capture you in a kiss. “You want me to make sure you remember? Make sure you know who you belong to? Who this perfect fuckin’ body belongs to?”
You had to battle with yourself to keep your eyes open, lost in the joy of being full of him. The nudge of his cock on your cervix and the way he pressed against your clit with every thrust kept you dangling over the edge, almost ready to fall completely into ecstasy.
“Y—es,” you hiccupped through the haze of arousal, “Keep me full like this—keep me open all the time, Joel, please.”
“Do you one better,” he looked smug, the smirk he wore nearly morphing into a sneer as he situated himself on his forearms above you. “Gonna fill you up nice and deep, put a fuckin’ brat in there—‘nd every time you look in the mirror, every time you look down, you get to remind yourself what you’re carryin’.”
“Joel—!” You were so close, and the promise of being pumped full of him, the way he delivered the promise, and the notion of him actually and purposefully attempting to get you pregnant all worked in tandem to make your toes curl and your eyes roll back.
“Yeah, s’a good idea, right?” He was smiling, babbling on as he watched you approach your high, racing towards his own. “Breed this greedy fuckin’ hole, that’ll show everybody whose you are—show you.”
“Yes—yes, fuck, please,” you were close to tears, desperately trying to move your hips to match his pace and speed up the process of what he was vowing to do. “Joel, please, cum in me.”
“Oh, I’ll cum in you,” he took a moment to really admire you, nose pressing against your own, gaze piercing into you, “Cum in you as many times as it takes to make it stick.”
And with one final shove of his hips, you were floating. You let out a strangled moan, something that came from low in your abdomen and exited your lips in a whiny, breathless cry. He relished it, pressing his face into your neck as he continued his ministrations, letting the sounds and signs of your pleasure coat him, body and mind.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he sucked marks into your skin, feeling your pulse, quick and jumpy, against his mouth. “Good girl—you want it?”
“Yes
” You were spent, body trembling and eyelids heavy, but you needed to see this through, aching for the warmth of him deep in your stomach. “Please—as many times as it takes
cum in me.”
“Fuck, that’s right,” Joel’s eyes were screwed shut, his mouth falling open when his hips began to stutter against you. He pushed himself deep, grinding himself against your cunt. “Shit—goddammit, I’m—yeah, yeah, sweetheart—fuck!” He came with a groan, and you moaned at the way his cock twitched inside of you.
You were both panting, sticky with sweat and exhausted. He stayed on top of you, nosing your neck and pressing dainty kisses into your skin.
Joel found it in himself to pull out after a few moments, still trying to savor the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. But when you tried to lift yourself up, a calloused palm pressed into your chest.
“Stay like that, darlin’. Legs up.” He walked around the table, coming to stand where your head nearly dangled off the edge. “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll be ready again in ‘bout an hour.” He grinned, leaning over you to catch your lips with his.
With the way his tongue dove into your mouth, hungry to explore, capturing your whines, you could tell you wouldn’t have to wait a full hour if you played your cards right.
“How about you—mm—how about you carry me up to bed?” You purred, sliding a hand up to toy with the curls on the nape of his neck.
“Can’t risk lettin’ all’at leak out of you,” he muttered against your lips, “As pretty a sight it may be
”
“So slide back in and carry me like that,” you batted your lashes, and he let out a groan. “And if any of it drips, you can just do it all over again.”
“You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart,” he shook his head, but he took your advice.
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ddejavvu · 11 months ago
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Hii hope you’re doing well, I was wondering if I could request a criminal minds blurb where reader is Penelope’s best friend and they’ve met for lunch in a cafe near Quantico, and reader is telling Penny about this new guy she hooked up with a few nights ago, reader tells Penny how big the guy was and then a few minutes later Spencer walks in and reader is like “P omg that’s the guy!!” And gestures towards Spencer who’s the only person ordering at the counter? I just feel like Penny would be equal parts both shocked and horrified that her sweet innocent boy Spence has a sex life but also that he’s HUNG?? I literally love you and all your Spencer works and I feel like you’d write this perfectly đŸ«¶đŸ«¶
this post is 18+, minors dni.
Penelope is absolutely enraptured by the play-by-play you're murmuring to her over the low din of the cafe's patronage. The whirring and grinding of the machines behind the counter only further aid in your attempt to keep your conversation private, and you can smell sweet strawberries on the bubbly blonde when you lean in to give her details.
"And he reached for his fly- ooh, Penny, the way his arms looked," You gush, remembering the thick veins that had corded his bone while he'd wrestled with his belt, "He whipped his belt out of the way, and- stop!" You urge her when she wriggles her brows at you, "He took his pants off, Penny, and I swear to god I've seen thighs thinner than that dick."
Her resulting squeal is much less hushed than you'd managed to keep the rest of your conversation, and you swat at the arm that's not holding her coffee. She gets the message but resorts to stamping her feet beneath the table instead, a repeated clicking that blends in much better with the mechanical whirring of the baristas' handiwork.
"He was so thick, and Jesus- Penny, he was long, too, just big all around," You recall, insides throbbing with a phantom ache at the memory of what you'd taken last night, "I swear he had me seeing stars," You sigh, glancing down at the pale pink ring of lip gloss around the mouth of your cup, "I'd beg him to come over again tonight, but I think I need a week to recover."
"A week," She breathes dreamily, "I could barely feel the last guy I had."
"Oh, I could feel him," You laugh, "It's like I still can, I'm pretty sure he bruised- oh fuck!"
"What?" Penelope's brow dips instantly, concern etched into her pretty features, "What's wrong?"
"It's him," You grip her hand, nails digging into her skin, "It's the guy from last night!"
"Big dick dude?" She asks, and your frantic nod confirms her theory.
She tries to be subtle, bless her, when she turns to see him, but when the only person that she sees standing in line for a drink is her coworker, her brain chugs along slower than normal.
Where's big dick dude?
Oh, Spencer's here!
I don't see big dick dude.
Spencer is-
You're not sure even the most talented actor could ever recreate the sheer horror swimming in her gaze when she turns to face you again. Her eyes are blown wide and her mouth, lined in a pretty fuchsia paste, is downturned in a grimace.
"Please tell me you're not talking about the skinny mess in the sweater vest."
"That's exactly who I'm talking about!" You gush, trying to avoid his gaze lest he thinks you're trying to follow him around, "Penny, isn't he dreamy?"
"That's- oh my god," She recalls your descriptions, thicker than thighs, longer than you've ever seen, "I have to resign."
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rafesangelita · 6 months ago
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lmaoo what if rafe made cookies for pogue!sweetheart!reader using her recipe but he accidentally used salt for sugar or something like that but reader see’s how proud he is of his creation so she pretends to like them even though they’re awful. you don’t have to write this but if you do, thank you so much!!!!
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warnings: reader being the sweetest gf, suggestive ending, slight humor (?)
“honey, i’m home!” rafe jokingly shouted from the front door of your camper, a tupperware full of cookies in his hand. “i have a surprise for you.” he smiled as you threw your arms around him, stepping on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “aww, ray..” you melted at the sight, your heart blooming in your chest at the sentiment. “i decided to give your recipe a try. ‘wanted to bake for you since you’re always baking for everyone else.” he handed you the container.
“oh my god.” you opened the lid, a little confused that you couldn’t smell anything sweet. “rafe, these look amazing!” you sat down, offering him one to taste. “nah, i want to see your reaction first.” he shook his head, taking a seat across from you. smiling nervously, you held one up, not seeing anything wrong with it. “pretty color, soft texture.. you might be me i’m afraid.” taking a bite, you immediately refrained from making a face.
you felt like you had just bit into a block of salt. “well?” making a quick recovery, you moaned delightfully, flashing rafe a reassuring smile. “it’s.. wow!” you nodded enthusiastically, quite literally forcing yourself to chew. rafe’s gaze faltered. “you don’t like them?” your panicked at the disappointment in his tone. he was so excited walking in here and now his shoulders had fallen in defeat. “are you crazy?! they’re perfect!” you took another bite, immediately coughing.
“are you sure?” he sounded unconvinced. “uh, yeah! you could put me out of business with these..” you laughed, waiting for him to look away before you hid the rest of the cookie behind the vase of flowers on the table. “now you’re making me want to try one.” he smiled, popping one in his mouth before you could stop him. you gasped, watching as his face morphed into one of disgust. “jesus, fuck, y/n—” he ran to your kitchen sink, “that should be a crime.” rafe spat.
you couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. “i’m so sorry i subjected you to that. why didn’t you tell me that they tasted like they fell out of a salt shaker?!” he wiped his mouth with his shirt, exposing his glorious abs underneath. “you were so excited to show me rafe, i didn’t want to shut you down.” you pouted, cupping his face. “it was just a little mistake, next time we’ll make sure that it’s sugar that you mix in.” both of you laughed, the cookies long forgotten on the table.
“i may have messed those up, but i still have a sweet tooth..” rafe backed you up into the counter, his large hands resting on the curve of your ass. “yeah?” you teased, trailing a finger down his arm. he hummed. “yeah. you have some dessert for me?” you smiled, eyes flickering to your bed in the corner. “find out.”
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amandabbbbb · 6 months ago
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summary: after the scene where ward drops rafe at barry’s and tells him to not come home but barry’s sister pogue!reader tries to comfort him even though rafe is soo mean to her like woah but it’s a happy ending
tw: mention of drugs, idk rafe cries a lot, parental issues, rafe calls reader kid and bitch once
word count: 762
“don’t come home, son,” ward says, his voice cold and final, as he walks away from his only son.
“where do you want me to go?”
“dad! dad!” rafe’s desperate calls echo into the night, but ward doesn’t look back, leaving rafe alone in the darkness in front of barry’s and your house.
“hey, barry, open the fuckin door! i know you got the coke, dude, come on. please just open up!” he’s begging on the verge of tears. “barry, if you don’t open this god damn door, i’ll fucking smash it down myself. i need coke, man!”
you slowly open the door, and before he even sees you, rafe shoves his way inside, causing you to stumble back slightly. he collapses onto the couch, his movements frantic and erratic. “barry, what took you so long? christ, give me your best coke. i need that shit now, dude” he demands, his voice thick with barely-contained emotion. when he finally looks up and sees you instead of barry, he quickly swipes at the tears streaming down his face, trying to hide his vulnerability.
“oh, hi, rafe! sorry, i had my headphones on. wanna listen? oh my god, are you crying?” you ask, your voice laced with genuine concern.
“no, jesus fuck, y/n, where’s your brother?”
“oh, um, i think he’s down by the shipyards doing a deal. sorry, rafey,” you say, offering a gentle smile.
rafe pulls himself up quickly, furiously searching for the drugs he so desperately craves. “where’s his coke? i know you know where he keeps it. go find it. don’t just stand there helplessly. you’re so goddamn stupid! fuck!”
“why are you being mean to me? you’re never mean to me
 i don’t know where barry keeps the coke, rafe.”
he yells at the top of his lungs, “it’s like you have no fuckin brain. you’re just a useless dumb blonde.” (sorry i’m blonde)
the harsh words cut through you, and you can’t bear his anger. you turn and flee to your room, tears pricking your waterline, blurring your vision as you go.
your whole teenage years, you knew rafe as your older brother’s richest client, who he secretly would rip off. but as the years went by, he started buying barry’s more hardcore drugs, not just weed. you got to know rafe more as barry’s regular client. he would constantly stick around, always flirting with you and bringing you gifts when barry wasn’t looking.
“y/n, don’t shut me out. don’t be a bitch, come on, open the door. i need the coke. you don’t understand, help me here, okay,” he pleads.
you’re scared. you’ve never seen him like this; he’s always treated you like a princess. you yell as he bangs at your thin bedroom door, pushing the wood so hard it starts to crack. “go home, rafe!” your voice shaky and filled with fear.
the banging stops suddenly, your words echoing in the sudden silence. the quiet stretches on, each second feeling like an eternity. cautiously, you peek out of your bedroom door thinking maybe he finally listened to your advice. “rafe, you there?” you call out.
he’s sitting on your couch, tears running down his face, hyperventilating. “i can’t go home. i’m a liar, an addict, a thief, and i can’t be trusted, so my dad said he can’t have me in his house. i have nowhere to go.”
you slowly approach the couch where rafe sits, his face hidden in his hands. his body is shaking, and the room is filled with the sound of his ragged breaths. “rafe
” you say softly, your voice trembling as you try to offer some comfort. “you, um, can stay here tonight.”
he looks up at you, his eyes red and desperate, filled with a depth of pain you’ve never seen in him before. “i don’t deserve you, kid. fuck, i’m so sorry. i never wanted you to see me like this. i thought i had everything under control, but now you probably hate me or some shit
”
you sit beside him, offering a soft, reassuring smile. you put your hand in his. “it’s okay rafey. i could never hate you. we all have moments when shit falls apart. it doesn’t change how i see you. you’re tired. i’ll set up the couch for you.”
rafe’s eyes search yours, a flicker of regret softening his expression. “i didn’t mean to take it out on you,” he says, his voice low and raw. “i just
 i don’t want to be alone. y’know, on the couch. not tonight.” the words hang in the air, heavy with his unspoken need to hold you tonight.
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reidrum · 6 months ago
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i cannot stop thinking about reader giving jesus hair spencer a blowjob, and him using the hair tie he keeps on his wrist to put her hair up
hair tie | s.rïżŒ
a/n: hey so this made me insane. also i wrote this really fast if it seems rushed that’s why. may we all be manhandled by jesus reid in the near future amen
cw: smut 18+ minors dni, blowjob, softdom!spence lowkey, reader has hair long enough to be tied up, can be read as gn!reader but lmk if i missed something!
wc: 888
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spencer’s long hair was definitely a choice. he grew it out to his shoulders purely because he couldn’t make it to a barber, and simply because he didn’t really care. it did become a hassle when he’d be hunched over his desk finishing reports and strands of hair would fall forward and obstruct his eyesight.
he found that he would waste so much time when he paused to push his hair behind his ears (two minutes and thirty seconds slower, he counted). he’d come home to you and complain wondering how all women dealt with the long hair if it just always flew in front of them. how did you get anything done?
then one day when spencer came home from work, you had a small surprise for him. a pack of 100 black hairties.
“so you can just put your hair up in a little pony or man bun and keep working!” you’d exclaimed.
he was so endeared by the gesture, he rarely ever tied his hair up but he never left the house without a hair tie on his wrist. he liked having the option if he needed it, plus it always reminded him of you when he saw it.
the few times he’s used it are during intense heat waves in dc, when he’s dealing with toxic chemicals and such, and when he’s with you.
when he goes down on you, his hair would never stay in place. and it irked him to have to remove his fingers from you in order to fix it. you found it so hot though. he was deathly hot, but he really didn’t understand what it did to you when he was on his knees tying his hair up for you.
until it happened to him, of course.
he had come home from work, tired from the day at the office. you led him to the couch and told him to sit and relax while you took care of him. he spreads his legs open and leans back onto the couch, his arms fanning outwards to rest on the ledge, “you’re too good to me, baby.”
you were down on him, moving your head and back and forth on his length. you traced the underside vein with your tongue, getting as much as you could down your throat. the sight of you dribbling spit all over his cock sent him into another orbit. it was messy, lewd, and outright fucking hot.
but that hair of yours kept falling down your cheeks and blocked the beautiful view of him fucking your mouth. he rakes his hands through your hair, but as much as he could hold it on his own, your ministrations were too good for him to keep a good grip on it.
in a haste move, he removes his hands and you look up at him in confusion at the loss of contact. you watch intently as he rolls the hair tie off his sleeve, the one that you got him, and watch him tie your hair up in a haphazard ponytail.
jesus fucking christ.
you whimper at the gesture, overwhelmed by the feeling of him tying your hair up. he feels you falter for a second, before you raise both hands to the remaining of his cock that didn’t fit in your mouth and hollow your cheeks out.
“fuck, angel, that’s so good—oh my god,” he mewls, “you like it when i tie your hair up? like when i—shit— use my own hair tie on you?”
you moan around his cock, sending vibrations throughout his body which he responded with a long groan, “bet you didn’t think this is what i’d use the hair ties for huh?”
he stares down at your face, tears streaming down both sides as you keep him in your mouth, as he twirls the ponytail in his big hand and tugs.
“baby, oh my god, fuck i’m gonna come.” he lets out, and soon he releases himself into your mouth as you swallow every last drop. you pull your mouth off his cock, leaning your cheek on his inner thigh as you stare up at him trying to catch your breath.
“holy shit.” you breathe out.
he laughs, “holy shit is right,” he strokes your hair gently, “was it actually hot when i tied your hair up?”
you look at him incredulously, “are you joking? the fact that i bought it for you to use, that you keep it on your wrist all the time, and that you used it on me when i was sucking you off, i could outcompete the sun right now.”
he pulls you off your knees to sit on his lap on the couch, “i’ll make note of that, my love,” he softly kisses you. cuddling further into his chest, you both end up falling asleep on the couch tangled all up in each other.
later down the line, spencer realizes that those cheap black hair ties aren’t all that great. they break easily and he finds it pulled out his hair, and probably your hair, a lot.
to solve this, spencer buys a pack of baby pink scrunchies that he keeps on his wrist at all times. he read somewhere they’re easier on the scalp. morgan makes fun of him for it, and while spencer rarely uses the scrunchies for himself, looking at the pink on his wrist always made his cock twitch a little no matter where he was.
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ranoutofficssoiwritemyown · 1 month ago
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Gojo x Reader
genre: fluff, crack? note: re-uploading this cus why not
Don't get me wrong, you love your boyfriend. You really do. But when he's in bed talking to his best friend on the phone while you're trying to sleep is just annoying. And that laugh that you're in love with sounds so obnoxious right now. You sigh out loud for the third time already so maybe he'll get a hint and either hang up, quiet down, or go to another room. However, he doesn't get it and you're so close to strangling him with his own blindfold
"Satoru?" You mumble so maybe he'll remember that he's not alone in the room.
"Yes, love?"
"I'm trying to sleep"
"Okay, I just need a minute, I swear"
Just a minute. You can wait for just a minute, right? Well, that "minute" was like 10 minutes ago, and at this point, as dramatic as it sounds, you were thinking of just dumping him and going home to sleep because no one interrupts your sleep like this.
Having enough of his annoying ass you tried to sit up and show him that he's not that "honored one" against sleep deprived you. However, you realized that was a mistake because a loud bump your head made against the headboard followed by an "ouch" made Gojo turn his head so fast towards you that it almost gave him a whiplash.
"Suguru, I'll call you later" muttered Satoru whose eyes were still wide
"Oh, so I must get at least a concussion just so you hang up"
What made you furious is that even though he was checking if you were alright he couldn't help but start laughing at you. And no, it wasn't just a small chuckle and yes, it made him tear up.
"Glad you find it funny" You grumble laying back down and turning away.
"C'mon now," he said through laughter while reaching for you "I can't help it, sorry"
"Fuck off" you struggled against him as he wrapped his arm around you from behind. He was much stronger though, so you just gave up and accepted your fate, but still standing your ground and not turning to face him.
"Are you okay? Does your head hurt?" He asked kissing your head and the sweet gesture was tempting enough to turn you to face him.
"It does, actually"
"Awh, my poor baby" Satoru started to rub your head but you slapped his hand away when you saw his lips twitch as he was trying his best to hold his laughter. He realized you noticed it and that was all it took to make him laugh again.
"Asshole" Slapping his chest you tried to turn away again but he wrapped you in his arms and held you to his chest. You could feel his body shaking from laughter.
"I'm sorry" he kissed your head.
"You're still laughing"
"I'm still sorry"
Rolling your eyes you waited for him to calm down. Which didn't take long, surprisingly.
"Satoru"
He hummed, his fingers brushing through your hair.
"If you interrupt my sleep like this again... I'll break up with you"
He gasped dramatically and before he could say anything you beat him to it:
"Oh, shut up! Like you wouldn't replace me with Geto right away"
He gasped again before moving his face away to look at you better.
"How dare you doubt my love for you?"
"Sleep, you drama queen" You chuckled at him and he got back into his previous position.
"I'm not gay tho..."
You scoff
"What was that?" You could feel him scrunching his face up and couldn't help but smile at how cute it was.
"Nothing, love"
"No, you just scoffed, what the fuck?"
"Satoru, sleep or I swear to god what I'll do to you will put that Zenin guy to shame"
"I already did that"
"Satoru!"
"Okay, okay jesus. So aggresive"
You pinch him
"Ouch! Alright" he laid on his back and pulled you to his chest "Good night, darling"
Kissing his chest you mumble "good night" and for his sake, he was silent after that.
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star-suh · 15 days ago
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Party Sucker
Song Mingi x Male Reader
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cw: multiple rounds implied.
—
yn was already feeling the alcohol kicking in into his system, he just took a cocktail with lots of alcohol, the warming sensation caused by the liquid going down between his legs. he went to the bathroom trying to hide his notorious bulge, arriving at the place and closing the door but forgetting to lock it. he takes off his pants and starts stroking his erect member, using his spit as some sort of lube.
the stimulation took over his drunk mind, tears started to form and rolled down his eyes. the music was so loud and he was so focused on masturbating that he didn't hear the door opening. “jesus fucking christ” the unknown person gasped watching the other dude, “holy shit” yn jumps in surprise trying to hide his dick, when he was about to leave a hand stops him to do it, he turns to look and there he realizes that it was the song mingi, the jock of the school just saw him rubbing one out.
“the fuck you’re doing here, pervert?” he questioned, million of embarrassing scenarios crossed yn’s mind, he saw his image being shattered by pieces and being labeled as the pervert of the school. he hasn’t realized yet but he didn’t wipe his tears when he faced mingi, unbeknownst to him it turned the jock on. “oh shush don’t cry” mingi comforted him but yn was caught off-guard he wasn’t crying for that. mingi wipe his tears with his thumb and licked them “these tears got me so hard boy, you don’t know how much i enjoy seeing my fucktoys cry” he pushed yn down to make him sit on his knees “open up” he used his thumb to push his jaw down. he unzipped his pants and let out his cock, slapping it against yn’s face “do a good job”. yn licked the tip and then the shaft “that’s right all the way to the base, take it all”. mingi was thick and long, causing yn's gag reflexes made more tears to pool on his eyes, “so pretty” mingi murmured. “this is making my cock rock hard” he pulls out and wipe the tears with his precum soaked tip.
“you were made for this. i wonder how many cocks have you sucked” mingi grabbed yn by the back of his neck and fastened his pace, “is this why you were here, pervert? waiting for a cock that needed to be sucked to do it?” mingi keeps degrading yn while focusing to go deeper inside his tight throat, “fucking cockwhore”.
mingi’s heavy balls slapped againts yn’s chin, “look at you touching yourself while sucking a stranger’s cock, disgusting”he adds. when yn tried to talk back mingi forced his dick deeper inside him “fleshlights don’t talk” he says while slapping yn’s left cheek.
at this point yn was cock drunk. mingi pulled out his cock and rubbed it against yn’s lips and face, “tell me how much you want this cock”, “i want it so much please” he replied. “that’s not convincing” mingi said, “please just fuck my face, bury your cock in my throat and flood it with cum”. mingi cockily smiled, his ego swollen now, “don’t cum unless i told you” he put his dick back on his mouth and thrusted on it while yn kept stroking his dick but stopping when he feels he’s gonna cum.
“oh god” mingi growled, “faster, fuck go faster” he demanded. “oh fuck. oh fuck. oh fuck” he kept repeating those words until familiar ones echoed in yn’s ears “i’m cumming, cum with me”.
yn spilled his sperm on the bathroom’s floor while mingi emptied his load down his throat “that’s it pervert, swallow it all” he spoke accompanied by moans while riding his high. “good job, now let go of my dick” he pulls out while resting against the counter feeling a bit weak after the blowjob session. “look at the mess you made slut.. but you were such a good toy” mingi praised him one last time before going out of the bathroom.
“you must know where my dorm is, met me there before the end of the night if you wanna get used like a real fuck toy” and just like that mingi left

yn’s head was buried in between some pillows while mingi drilled him, his cock going in and out of yn. “fuck this hole is so tight” he said “probably the tightest bitch i ever fucked”. mingi made sure to rearrange yn's insides, paint them in white and then churn it again with his thick meat, “you're like my fleshlight now. taking load after load without complaining. you were made for this”.
the sunlight made its way through the dorm curtains, the warm rays caressing yn's face and mingi's dick that was being taken care of with the other's mouth. yn swallowed every inch, hollowing his cheeks so the suction was stronger. “fuck keep doing that and i'll cum right now”. “that's it bro, yeah~” he praises shooting his last load on yn's face, his sperm landing on the other's hair, eyes, cheeks and mouth, “did i do a good job?” yn asked with doe eyes while rubbing the tip on his lips as if it was some kind of lipstick, “yes, you took it like a champ” mingi praised slapping his shaft on the other's cheek.
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roosterforme · 7 months ago
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Mr. Right Now Part 2 | Hangman x Reader
Summary: As soon as you decide that Jake is the one you want for your first time, he's very clear that you'll be playing by his rules. You're ready to get this over with and get on with your life, but he's determined to make you admit that you're allowed to feel good. And maybe you want to enjoy this with him.
Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, sexual touching, 18+
Length: 3800 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist
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"Jake," you whispered as his soft hair glided through your fingers. You liked his name. He was handsome. He was older. His lips tasted delicious. He had green eyes.
Why had you been so focused on Rooster? Oh, right. Because your roommate, Kylie, said he was good after she slept with him. She told you all about the Navy bar and the different guys with call signs, and you made it a point to remember that Rooster was the one who she said was the gentlest. 
You froze. Jake had his hands around your waist, his hips pressing his semi hard length against you. Those pretty green eyes were locked onto yours, and you knew it would be a long shot to get him to agree, even now. But something else was bothering you about this whole scenario. You suddenly wondered if Kylie and Jake ever had sex.
For some reason, that idea alone was enough to piss you off. Going blindly after Rooster would have been no big deal, but Jake seemed to actually give a shit about you. He just took the time to make sure you were really twenty, and he kept questioning you as to why you were here in the first place. In this bar where you apparently stuck out like a sore thumb.
But you wanted Jake specifically for your first time, whether he had already fucked Kylie or not. You leaned in and kissed him again, and he seemed more than willing now. You hoped your little skirt and tight shirt weren't going to fail you after you made it this far. He just needed to take care of this one, basic thing for you, and you'd be on your way. Then you could go out with Cooper who you were actually so ready to date, and you wouldn't completely embarrass yourself with him.
You let yourself touch Jake's hair again as you asked, "What's your call sign?"
His hand felt huge against your butt, and you went willingly when he pulled you even closer. "Hangman," he said in that cute Texan drawl. That didn't sound familiar at all, and Kylie was pretty proud of all the call signs she'd managed to collect. Maybe she hadn't gotten to him yet. Or maybe she wasn't his type. That thought alone made you smile even more as he continued to touch you.
"Okay, Hangman," you whispered against his mouth in the middle of this crowded bar. "I'm ready for you to take me to your place."
He kissed you gently and shook his head. "Let's go out to my truck, and I'll drive you back to your apartment or dorm."
God, he was such a good kisser, but he was really grating on your nerves at this point. You were a little nervous that he would keep saying no and then ruin your chances with Rooster or one of the other guys in attendance tonight, even though they would be clear backup options now. You whined in annoyance. "Come on, Jake."
"No. I'm not taking you home with me," he replied firmly. 
You stomped your foot; you really wanted to lose your damn virginity, and you couldn't give it away. "You don't even have to take me back to your place. We can fuck in the parking lot."
"Jesus Christ, Darlin'. That's not happening either," he said, looking scandalized. "Definitely not for your first time. And a leather mini skirt is an impractical outfit to get fucked in anyway."
You tipped your head back and groaned. "Well how was I supposed to know that?" Then you looked at his handsome face, pretty much ready to call it a night and try again tomorrow at a different bar. "I'm doing everything wrong."
He had the nerve to laugh at you again. "No. You're really not. The skirt is just going to make guys want to work harder for it. And honestly, somehow the sneakers are doing something for me?"
A small glimmer of hope flashed inside you as you ran your fingers along his stubbled cheek. "Yeah?"
"God. Damn. It." He was practically growling now as he started to haul you toward the exit. "If we're doing this, then we're doing it right."
"Okay!" you replied immediately, not really sure what you were agreeing to as he led you outside to the dark deck, letting the door close behind the two of you. The loud interior of the bar was a thing of the past now as he took your chin between his thumb and fingers and kissed you a little rough with the ocean as the new soundtrack. 
You almost dropped your purse as you tried to wrap your arms around his neck, already wanting more of him. "If you really want to do this," he said between kisses, "then you're playing by my rules." You were practically whimpering as his lips found the side of your neck, because why did his words sound so sexy?
"Absolutely," you whispered. "Jake's rules."
He half carried you out to the dimly lit parking lot as he muttered, "This is a terrible idea." He squinted at your face and added, "You seem like the type who never learns her lesson."
"I resent that," you said, running your lips along his ear even as your feet left the ground. "I have a 4.0 GPA. I always learn my lessons."
He grunted as he helped you into what you assumed was his truck before standing outside the door with his hands on his hips. "Like I said, you're a real smartass. Now listen up. I'm going to be as gentlemanly as I possibly can during this whole thing."
"Whole thing?" you asked, wondering what he could possibly mean. He just needed to get completely hard, shove his cock in you for a little while, and then call it a night.
"Yeah," he grunted, his green eyes a little wild in the glow from the truck's dome lights. "I'm going to make sure you come. I'm going to be as sweet as I can be. But you need to be clear if you're not having a good time, or if you want me to stop. If you can't abide by those basic ground rules, we're absolutely done here."
Oh. He was really taking this seriously. You chewed on your lip, and his face became more apprehensive. But you weren't debating with yourself whether or not his ground rules would work for you. You were actually trying to figure out why he was already being better than anything you anticipated tonight. Anticipated ever.
"Oh, my god," you gasped. "Are you married?"
"What the fuck kind of question is that?" he shouted, looking angry now. "Of course I'm not married!"
You reached out to him and grabbed his hand. "Sorry! It's just that you're sweet, and you seem to be taking this really seriously! I was just checking!"
Jake scowled, and his tone was one akin to hurt. "I'm not letting you make yourself believe that all you deserve for your first time is a careless fuck in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, and I'm certainly not letting one of those drunk assholes maul you apart!"
The more you thought about it, you really didn't want to be manhandled or have to pull your skirt up in a bathroom stall to make the best of things tonight. You squeezed his hand which you were still holding as you softly said, "Thank you."
He ran his free fingers through his soft hair and muttered something that sounded like, "Yeah, don't thank me yet." Then he kissed your lips and said, "Buckle your seatbelt," before he let go of your hand and closed the door. 
-------------------------
You were pretty quiet on the drive back to Jake's place, but you didn't seem as nervous now. If anything, he thought his nerves were ramping up while yours were calming down. He couldn't remember how many condoms he had left in his bedside drawer, and when he tried to estimate how many he might use tonight, he almost missed his turn. Was he really going to do this?
"You live by the beach," you remarked, playing with the hem of your tiny skirt while you looked out the window.
"I do," he replied, mentally cancelling his morning run if you were going to stay over. The implications of letting you spend the night were creeping up on him, but kicking you out was absolutely not going to be an option. You likely had the entirety of the rest of your life to be disappointed by men, but he wasn't going to set that precedent. 
"How old did you say you were?"
Jake felt a little dirty now when he said, "I didn't. But I'm thirty." He tapped the brakes when he was about a block from his house. His truck already smelled sweet like your perfume or shampoo, and he glanced at you when he turned onto his street. "Let me take you back to your place."
You laughed softly as you leaned a little closer to him. "Negative, Hangman. I have a twin bed and a nosy roommate. I think we're better off doing this at yours."
"Come on, Darlin'. That's not what I meant, and you know it."
He coasted up to the stop sign on the quiet side street; he could see his little, white cottage on the next block, but he turned to look at your face in profile as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were looking straight ahead, chin proudly held high as you said, "If you really don't want to have sex with me, then turn right and head back toward Pomona Avenue."
It wasn't that he didn't want to. You were all pouty lips and feminine curves and perky tits, and yeah... he did want to fuck you. And he wanted to make it so good, you'd ask for more. He wanted to take his time and pull that first orgasm from you while he gave it to you exactly how you needed it. When he didn't turn his truck back toward Pomona, you looked at him and whispered, "It's okay if you're not into it, Jake. You can take me home. You don't have to worry about me."
He made a noise at the back of his throat and licked his lips. "That's not it." He wanted to say more, but for now, he answered your concerns by moving his foot to the accelerator and driving straight through the intersection. You visibly relaxed in the seat next to him, and a few seconds later, he was pulling his truck up to his house. You were looking out the window toward his cottage, and when you reached for the door handle, he let his hand rest on your bare knee. You turned his way immediately, and he said, "You never agreed to play by my rules."
"I agree."
He shook his head. "Then tell me what my ground rules were."
You bit your bottom lip, and he could feel you squeeze your legs together as you whispered, "You said you'd make sure I come. And that you would be sweet. And that if I tell you I'm not having a good time, you'll stop." Jake let his hand slide a few inches higher, and you responded by easing your legs apart and telling him, "I agree with the ground rules."
Jake nodded once and said, "Looks like I'm stuck with you now."
You kissed him. Somehow you caught him off guard every time you did it. You were tentative and inquisitive, and when you moved closer, his hand eased up your thigh. "You're stuck with me," you murmured between kisses. "For probably at least a half an hour." Jake started laughing, and you pulled away slightly. "What's funny?"
"Darlin', you're playing by my rules. You want me to teach you about sex? Half an hour isn't even going to be enough to get you warmed up."
You looked surprised as you reached up to run your fingers through his hair. "Teach me about sex? I thought you were just going to fuck me and call it a night."
Jake moaned. "Definitely not. Now let's get started."
--------------------------
You found yourself in Jake's living room, eyes darting around, trying to figure out what to focus on first. He was an actual adult with award commendations from the Navy and a massive TV. You felt small in his space, and some of your bravado melted away as he chuckled and said, "I'd offer you a drink, but, you know."
You tapped the toe of your sneaker against the hardwood floor and said, "According to my ID, I'm the same age as you. I like white wine, thanks."
He was trying not to laugh as he walked into his kitchen, and you followed along behind him, watching as he reached for a wine glass and filled it with ice water. "Enjoy your chardonnay, Darlin'," he drawled, and now you were also trying not to laugh.
"Thanks," you whispered before taking a sip. You tried to set your purse on the counter, but the clasp caught the edge, and both of your IDs came sliding out along with a strip of three condoms. When Jake met your eyes you said, "I made sure I was prepared before I left my place. I'm young, not stupid."
"But the Hard Deck?" he asked, closing the distance between your bodies. "Not your smartest move, parading around in there with a fake and some condoms. The guys that hang out there wouldn't know their ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to making sure a woman enjoys herself."
"You hang out there," you told him with a little eye roll, and his fingers came up under your chin. He tilted your face up until you were staring into his pretty green eyes, and your core clenched with need.
"I don't make promises I can't keep," he told you, and you absolutely believed him. "Now, you said you're a virgin, but why don't you go ahead and tell me how experienced you are."
You swallowed hard, chin still held in place by those rough fingers. "Is that really necessary? I'm ready to go, Jake." You set your glass of water on the counter next to the condoms and reached out to touch his solid abs through his shirt.
"There's a little more to it than that," he told you, stroking your jaw with his thumb. "Let's talk and get to know each other a bit."
The last thing you wanted him to know about was your complete lack of experience with guys. "We don't have to do that." 
"Yeah, well I want to," he told you, finally releasing your chin.
"You're very old fashioned," you said with a smirk, and your hands settled on his belt.
"I'm a lot older than you, smartass. Humor me." Instead of responding with anything about yourself, you held eye contact with him while you yanked the end of his belt free from the belt loops and started to unbuckle it. A smile danced along his lips, and he said, "Fine. I'll start. I'm a Lieutenant in the Navy. I grew up in Texas, but I've lived all over the country. My favorite food is chili. I love running on the beach in the morning before it gets too hot out. I have four sisters. And I'm a Scorpio."
You had the button of his jeans undone, and you were easing his zipper down as you said, "You do seem like a Scorpio, Lieutenant Jake." His green eyes were still on yours as you officially went further than you ever had with a guy by letting your fingers run along his impressive length through his underwear. He licked his lips as you reached the tip and then dipped your hand inside his snug boxer briefs. He was warm and velvety soft while also getting harder by the second, and you gasped at the look in his eyes. "Does this feel good?" you asked softly as his pupils widened.
He nodded once, and his voice sounded raspier as he told you, "Yes."
"Good," you mused out loud, unable to contain your smirk as Jake grunted softly. "If you like it, then the guy from my physics class who I want to go out with will probably like it, too."
Suddenly, Jake's hand was on your wrist in an iron-tight grasp, preventing you from stroking him. "What?" you gasped, his hand tightening incrementally as something dangerous flashed in his eyes.
"Lesson number one. When you're with a guy, and you have your hand wrapped around his cock, you shouldn't be talking about a different guy."
You pouted up at him and said, "I already told you earlier that part of the reason I wanted to lose my virginity was so it would feel good when I get with Cooper."
"And I'm telling you right now that you're done talking about him," he grunted. "Got it?"
A chill of delight ran up your spine as you whispered, "Yes. Understood."
His grasp on your wrist released immediately, and he leaned in, kissing you softly one time. "That's just a surefire way to get a guy jealous," he informed you, and another little chill ran through your body as you considered that maybe you just made him a little jealous. 
When you ran your hand along his length again, his lips were back on yours immediately, and he moved you so your leather covered butt was pressed against the edge of his countertop. Then he took your hips in both of his big hands, and you whimpered into his mouth. He teased you, pulling away slightly just so you'd chase him for more. He was throbbing against your palm as your other hand found his hair once again. 
He was sexy. Even the rough stubble on his face felt delicious as it rubbed your chin and cheeks. Then, just as his lips started to migrate along your jaw, he carefully reached for your wrist again, withdrawing your hand from his jeans. "Yes, it feels good, but this isn't about me, Darlin'."
When his lips skimmed down your neck before settling on your pulse point, you whimpered his name. Then he sucked gently on you there while he toyed with the zipper at the side of your mini skirt. He was big and strong, and he smelled good, and as he worked your zipper down, inch by painstaking inch, you shifted so you were rubbing against him.
As soon as his fingers dipped inside the elastic of your underwear, it felt like you were clenching around nothing. Usually you had to use your fingers for a while to get that kind of result, but he hadn't even touched you there yet. Then you realized you were wet. Really wet from his lips and his touch. Your thong felt damp against your skin as your skirt started to slide down your hips, and your voice was a little too loud as you gasped and said, "Okay, I'm ready. I'm definitely ready. Let's do it. Where's your bedroom?"
Jake's lips released your neck. He brought his mouth up to your ear and told you, "Absolutely not. Not yet."
Your skirt slipped a few more inches as Jake ran his nose along the shell of your ear. "God. Do you need me to ask nicely or something? Please?"
"You're playing by my rules. Did you forget? We're not rushing through this." Your skirt dropped to the floor at your feet as Jake pulled away and looked at your face. "Unless you're not having a good time, Darlin'. Say the words, and I'll stop."
You had no control of your body as your head tipped back, a low moan escaping as you said, "I don't want you to stop." You panted as you rubbed your wet panties against the open fly of his jeans. "It feels so good. But I want more."
Jake's hand found the back of your head, tilting it forward until you were looking at him again. "What do you want me to do to you?" he asked as one of his calloused fingers played with the lace trim along the top of your underwear.
"I want you to fuck me," you whispered with a moan, nodding your head as he smirked at you. 
"Really, pretty girl? You sure that's it? Because it sounds more like you want me to make you feel good." His fingers stroked up to your belly button and back down again as you bucked against him. "I think you know by this point in our conversation that you're allowed to enjoy this. And I can tell that's what you really want." 
"What could possibly feel better than getting fucked?" you asked in desperation. "I want you to fuck me!"
"No, you don't," he whispered, voice harsh and needy. He kissed you hard on the mouth two times before adding, "You want me to make you feel better than you've ever felt before. You want me to touch you with more skill than you can touch yourself. And none of that has to do with me fucking you. Tell me I'm wrong."
You bit down on your lip as his hand reached around to your butt, and suddenly you knew for sure it wouldn't have been like this with Rooster or any of the other guys at the bar. They would have fucked you and unloaded into one of the three condoms by now. Maybe you wouldn't have even gotten wet for them. You'd probably be back at your place in bed, planning on seeing Cooper on Monday morning with a new outlook on life. But it wouldn't have been like this.
Jake wanted more than that for your first time, and now you were starting to see that you could have more as his rough fingers kneaded into you. If you were already about to come just from rubbing yourself on him, then playing by his rules and letting him take his time was sounding better by the second.
You took a deep breath, let your lips brush against his and told him, "I want you to make me feel good."
"That's more like it, Darlin'," he crooned. "I'll take care of you."
----------------------------
Jake is about to show you that he's a man of his word. He keeps his promises, and he's already made some to you. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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sleepyjuice · 5 months ago
Text
summary: jj can’t help himself when you wear a pretty little dress.
warnings: 18+!!!, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay? praise kink, I think that’s it this is literally just smut lol
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jj loved it when you dressed up. it wasn’t often you two had an occasion to wear a cute, tight short little dress, but when you did, he couldn’t get enough of you.
he had splurged and made a dinner reservation on the mainland for your birthday, so you dressed up nice and pretty in a little pink dress that you had bought for the occasion. it hugged your body perfectly and you couldn’t get enough of the thought of jj ripping it off of you at the end of the night. you weren’t sure if you could wait.
jj was sat on the couch waiting for you to finish getting ready when you finally padded out of the bedroom for him to see you in all your glory.
“holy fucking shit.” fell from his lips the second he laid his eyes on you. the next decision was quick, jj checked the time on his phone and the next thing you knew, you were bent over the arm of the couch, your dress pulled up to your stomach and jj was fucking you roughly from behind.
“fuck, you’re so fuckin’ perfect, lettin’ me fuck you in this pretty little dress, baby, shit.” jj groaned, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as his cock filled your tight pussy perfectly, your own hands gripping onto one of the couch cushions to keep yourself steady.
he was fucking you good, your ass cheeks jiggling against his pelvis from the rough force of his hips as he rammed into you, the sounds of skin slapping skin alongside the wet squelches from your wet pussy filled the room like your favorite song.
“takin’ my dick so good, pretty girl, shit- i ain’t gonna last long with you hugging my cock like this,” jj panted from behind you, giving your ass a few rough slaps, concentrating on his movements so he didn’t cum before you did.
“it’s- i know, i’m close,” you whined, fully aware that you were short on time, not that you needed to rush your orgasm as it felt good enough on its own to send you over the edge in record time.
you brought a hand to your clit, your fingers circling against yourself at the perfect pace as your thighs began to shake and the task of keeping yourself up was growing more and more difficult by the second.
“fuuuck, that’s it, baby, touch yourself, you look so goddamn pretty right now, jesus.” jj groaned at the sight of you before him, his balls tightening as he was now seconds away from losing control and spilling inside of you.
it was as if your bodies were synced, because it only took a few seconds for your stomach to tighten, your fingers falling from their spot against your clit as your orgasm shook through your body, loud cries falling from your lips as your pussy clenched around jj’s cock and you fell undone completely, your body on the verge of going limp.
“oh shit, fuckin’- oh god,” jj moaned, his own release triggered by yours, thick hot spurts of his cum filling your tight pussy, his cock still buried deep in you as he fucked his cum into you. his hands slid around to your lower stomach, sensing your loss of control, holding tightly onto you to keep you upright as he rode out his own high.
your head was fuzzy as you allowed yourself to go limp, confident in jj’s hold on you to keep you upright as you worked to catch your breath. you felt his movements finally stop followed by a few soft smacks against your ass before feeling him slowly pull out of you.
you expected the next feeling to be a towel cleaning you up, but instead your panties were being pulled up your thighs and back into place, the thin fabric being the only thing keeping jj’s cum from spilling out of you.
“what’re you doin’?” you turned your head to ask, regaining some of your footing as you slowly stood up straight to turn and face jj.
“gonna keep that cum in, then when we get home i’m gonna fill ya up again.” he responded nonchalantly, his fingers reaching up to pull your dress back down to its original position.
you couldn’t argue with him if you wanted to, knowing full well that you were in for a great time tonight.
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subcultureblues · 30 days ago
Text
Burnin’ Down The House
Steve finally psyches himself up to ask Eddie out, because really, what’s the worst that could happen? He makes sure everything’s perfect, goes to shoot his shot annnnnnnnd - Eddie’s fucking pissed.
My Secret Santa gift for the lovely @sunflowerharrington for the @steddieexchange (thank you so much to @paradimeshifts7 for the beta!) Sunflower’s fave tropes are : Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Miscommunication, Accidental Love Confessions
So buckle in boys

———
They’ve been dancing around this for long enough.
It had been three months. Three maddening, excruciating, unbearable months of Steve and Eddie circling each other in this ridiculous, elaborate mating ritual. He had been kind of really hoping Eddie would make the first move; Steve’s new to this, he doesn’t know the protocol!

But clearly that wasn’t happening.
Three months of smolderingly flirtatious banter, two very revealing conversations with Robin, and one only slightly over-dramatic gay crisis later - and Steve had officially had enough.
“Stop fussing. It’s gonna go great.”
“And if I crash and burn?”
“Which you won’t.”
“Which I won’t,” Steve echoed reluctantly, because by this point Robin had him trained like a prize-winning show pig. “But even if I’m fucking - casanova in cable-knit, if he’s just - not interested, and
 he turns me down - “
“Which he won’t.”
“We don’t even know if he -“ Steve snapped. He ran a hand down his face, groaning in awful, self-inflicted agony. “I’m just trying to prepare myself, mentally, for the possibility of failure here. I mean what if - we don’t even know if he’s into guys, Robin.”
Robin snorted.
“Ok fine, and if he is? Doesn’t mean he’s gonna go for
 “ Steve looked in the mirror again, still trying to get his hair to fall right. He squinted with an edgy huff.
“Steve,” Robin said in her most long-suffering tone of voice. She smacked her palms against both of his cheeks and squished. “He likes you.”
“Yeaf?” he said, muffled by the contortion of his face and his lips.
Robin nodded solemnly. She opened the car door and stepped one foot onto the driveway of her house.
“We’ve both seen the way he looks at you.” And the thing is, Steve had. When he thought he was being slick. The way his eyes settle on Steve, warm and unhurried. Like he was trying to take it all in. “Frankly the whole starcrossed longing thing - it’s getting old. And on my nerves. Just put that poor, pathetic man out of his misery and kiss him already,” she pleaded.
“Alright! I get it.”
“And I mean, seriously Steve. Honestly. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“No. You’re right.” Steve nodded, gesturing at her. “You’re right.”
Because yeah, she probably was right — which God, Steve hated when she did that...
“I’ll call you when I get home, ok?”
“Can’t wait to hear all about how you two lovestruck idiots finally get it together.” The corner of her mouth twitched and she reached down to reassuringly squeeze his hand on the steering wheel. It helped. A lot, actually.
Robin stepped out, closing the door behind her, then immediately shoved her head back through the open window. Steve opened his mouth to ask what she forgot this time.
“Do not forget to use protection.” She ordered, sounding distinctly like his mother. He took offense, raising his hands with an indignant look.
“I already told you - “
“Yeah, yeah. Your whole master of seduction plan to sweep the Freak off his feet.” She snickered.
“Romance him. Epically,” Steve corrected her. “My plan to epically romance him.”
“You’re not fooling anyone Slut Harrington.” Steve rolled his eyes. Robin grinned at him. It managed to calm his nerves enough that he could honestly smile back. “Call me, okay? As soon as you get home. I get to be first to hear the good news.”
“I will.” She started towards the front door. “Oh, and Robin?”
She turned back to him.
“How’s my hair?”
She hung her head in defeat.
“Jesus Christ
”
He pulled up to the Munson’s trailer just after sunset and honked when he parked outside. After maybe a minute, Eddie came sprinting out of the trailer, throwing open the passenger side door and launching himself into the Beemer.
“Go, go, go! The cops are right on our tail!”
“Think we can outrun ‘em?” Steve smiled, very slowly putting the car into reverse to back up and turn around.
“Obviously no. That’s why we have a getaway car, Steve. Keep up.”
“Uh-huh. Alright, outlaw. You got the stuff?”
“Made out like a bandit.” Eddie bounced his eyebrows, swinging an 8 pack of beer from his fingers.
“Eugh. Samuel Adams?” Steve made a face.
“You pay, you pick.” Eddie shrugged unapologetically.
“Fine. I got ice in the cooler back there.” Steve swiveled and braced his hand on the headrest of the passenger seat
 and Eddie looked at him. In that way that he does; in subdued glances, furvative, just out of the corner of his eye. In the way that made hope light up like a sparkler in Steve’s chest. He leaned just a little deeper into Eddie’s space, eyes on the road behind them as he reversed the car, trying not to give himself away by grinning too much.
They had planned to head down to the quarry. It was nice, scenic. Perfect for this kind of thing. Steve knew about this one spot, a picnic table that overlooked the water. Real premium makeout real estate.
Honestly, Eddie was kind of ruining the ambiance Steve was trying to set here. He’d left one of his tapes playing from out of the car's open windows. Not loud, but still. They sat together next to the parked car, looking out at the black glass water below. Perched atop the table with their feet on the bench, sipping disgustingly cheap, but cold at least, beer.
If Steve blocks out the distant heavy metal screaming, it could pass pretty convincingly for romantic. The sky had cooperated with him, not a cloud in sight. Just an endless, timeless sea of stars. The moon was waning but bright enough they could see in the dark. But also not so bright it washed out the impression of the Milky Way above them. Still summer - which meant it was brisk but not chilly.
Perfect. Or - at least as close to perfect as Steve could really hope for.
“Ghosts?” Steve was saying, smiling and shaking his head. “Seriously?”
“What - so you’ll buy evil interdimensional wizards and - and demon bats from hell but you draw the line at ghosts?”
“Well, yeah. Difference there - is that I’ve never seen a ghost before,” he said, gesturing with his beer.
“So? That doesn’t mean there aren’t any!” Eddie was talking with his whole body again.
“Sure - maybe. But it does mean I don’t have to think about it,” Steve said, and Eddie threw his head back laughing.
Eddie took another long swing and they settled down, a comfortable quiet setting in. Steve glanced over at Eddie over the rim of his beer. Eddie was looking off into the distance, smiling. It felt
 The timing felt right.
Steve set down his can carefully and took a deep breath (he’d popped a mint when they got here, and could only hope it would break through the bitter beer smell). He wiped his hands on his jeans so they for sure wouldn’t be clammy.
He braced a hand on the table behind Eddie’s back. Leaned into his space. Eddie went still, turning his head and blinking at him apprehensively.
“So
” Steve over-enunciated, and Eddie’s eyes immediately flickered down to his lips. It was brief, but Steve clocked it.
Steve smiled, made sure to let Eddie know that yeah, he saw that.
Oh, Steve’s so had this in the bag. He was great at this.
Steve unholstered ol’ reliable - his brightest, most charming smile. The one that always got girls blushing and tucking their hair behind their ears. He could really only hope it’d have the same devastating impact on Eddie.
“Keep looking at me like that Munson - I’m gonna start thinking something crazy.”
“What?”
“That maybe you like what you see
.That you’re interested
” Eddie was quiet, studying his face very seriously. Three things for which he’d never been particularly known for. Or particularly good at for that matter. It was kind of intense. Steve slanted his eyes slightly down and to the side, not wanting to be thrown off his game.
Focus, Harrington. You got this. You got this because you’re super cool and smooth and good at this.
“So - come on, what do you say you and me just cut to the chase and go out already?” He said, light and playful.
He glanced back up at Eddie through his lashes and actually, physically, flinched when he saw his expression.
The look in his eyes was ice cold.
“Hey, fuck you, man,” Eddie said, putting a hand on Steve’s chest and shoving him right back out of his personal space. Steve tipped over onto the tabletop. He landed on his opposite hip, catching himself with his elbow. It took a second or two to process as he slowly sat back up.
Eddie’s cheeks flushed red with anger, the upset in his eyes. The way he had already turned his head away, like he didn't want to have to even look at Steve right now. How tense his posture was, sitting there leaning his elbows on his knees. Tapping his sneaker restlessly against the bench.
It left Steve floundering for a good few seconds.
“Yeah. You’re real funny, Harrington, you know that?” Eddie said, as quiet as he was tense.
“I -” Eddie looked over at him expectantly, mouth in an uncomfortably twisted-up frown. Looking like all he wanted in the world right then was for Steve to apologize or laugh it off. Or, more likely, to just fucking drop it. And Steve still hadn’t said anything.
Because to be honest, Steve was having a hard time believing it. Sure, he had been nervous. But like, - not that nervous.
He probably wouldn’t’ve had the nerve to put it all on the line if he wasn’t pretty damn sure the feeling was mutual.
It was just
 The way Eddie always tried to rile him up. Make him laugh. Pull his pigtails. Like he couldn’t get enough of Steve’s attention. How he’d go way out of his way for Steve only to go all nonchalant and pink, play it cool when Steve tried to thank him for it. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Even those times when it was. And then there was always that distinctive tension. That undeniable charge.
Look. Steve Harrington knows flirting. Knows it when he sees it. And he had seen it floating on the periphery of almost every conversation they’ve had all the way back to when the Vecna fiasco started.
This whole fucking ordeal was brought about in the first place because twice (twice!) Steve had caught Eddie fixating on — gazing at — his naked chest.
“What?” Steve smiled weakly. “You can’t - you’re seriously telling me I just imagined all that
? That it was all just totally-“ his hands fluttered of their own volition, “in my head
”
Wrong thing to say. Somehow the worst thing to say, judging by Eddie’s reaction.
Eddie pushed off the table to stand, shoulders inflating as he took a large inhale and held it before letting it out slowly. It was controlled, like if he wasn’t careful he might go off like a bomb. Still, the look he was giving Steve was fucking radiation poisoning.
“Ok, what the fuck is your problem?” Eddie spoke in a low voice and jerked his chin defiantly.
Steve could practically hear it, the moment his heart dropped like a rock.
Eddie’s top lip curled up when Steve didn’t say anything, just sat there with his dumb mouth left open.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to imply that you were
” Steve rubbed at the clamminess on the back of his neck.
“Oh no? Then what did you mean to imply, exactly?”
Steve hesitated, and Eddie looked upset at how much that vindicated him.
“I mean
” Sure, small towns were small-minded. But not Eddie. Never Eddie. At least, Steve never took him for the type. Sure maybe the guy’s a little bit prickly, but he doesn’t judge a freak for being a freak. He welcomed all those rejected and abandoned by society. Is fiercely, loyally protective over them. It was part of why Steve fell for him, his enduring Sheep Dog nature. “
s’not like it’s that bad a thing to be, right?”
Eddie laughed.
“Oh, it’s not, is it?” He said it big and loud and sarcastic and defiant. Like the way he talked to the assholes and the jocks and the bullies, the ones that give him trouble at school. How he talked to the ‘Them’ not the ‘Us’. Like the way he never talked to Steve.
“Hey,” Steve said, defensively. He stood up, not liking the feeling of Eddie looking down on him right now. “Dude, why are you being like this? I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Eddie’s features twitched, like he was exerting incredible amounts of restraint, and somehow this was his measured response.
“Hah. Well. S’ a good one. You’re a real riot
” He walked past Steve, roughly knocking into his shoulder as he did.
Steve stumbled a step. Eddie honestly hadn’t even bumped him that hard, but he wasn’t feeling very stabilized right now. He turned, watching Eddie march towards the tree line.
“Fuck you, King Steve,” Eddie said dismissively as he walked away. Steve was kind of floored. It took him a second to respond.
“I - Dude! Where are you even going?”
“I’ll walk!” Eddie yelled, not turning around.
Steve just watched him go. He wrapped his arms around himself. Suddenly realizing how cold he felt, even in his sweater. Even when it was still summer.
And Eddie he, he never acted like this.
Look, Eddie might have been kind of an asshole, and as of 5 minutes ago had decided he hated Steve’s guts
 but he was still Eddie.
And Steve wasn’t gonna let him get lost in an occasionally monster-ridden forest.
He jogged to catch up. When Eddie heard him coming through the undergrowth, it seemed to make him storm away faster.
“Come on, man. Eddie! I’m sorry, okay? — Just. At least let me drive you home.”
“Fuck off, Harrington,” Eddie said, speed-walking as if Mr. Pack-A-Day could outpace the jock.
“Where are you even going?”
“What are you, a cop?”
“Eddie -“ Steve said, because this was, frankly, ridiculous. He grabbed Eddie’s wrist, tugging him back.
Eddie’s eyes were red-rimmed and glassy.
“Eddie?”
“What!?” Eddie said quietly, stubbornly looking somewhere off to the side, waiting for him to say something.
If only Steve knew what the fuck to say.
“You really had me fooled for a second there
 that you’d changed since school. Shows me, huh?”
“Hey, fuck you! You’re the one who’s being, like, honestly, just - really immature about all this.”
“Oh, I’m being immature?” Eddie practically yelled, a cruel smile splitting his face open.
“Yes!” Steve yelled back indignantly, because that would be a hard charge for Eddie to beat right now. Especially with that petulant death glare he’s still got on.
Steve looked away and took a deep breath, dragging a hand roughly down his face. He held it over his mouth for a second, just trying to get his head on straight.
He really wished his eyes would stop burning. He’d thought
 he’d really, really thought. Oh god, he’d just messed everything up, didn’t he?
“Jesus Christ. I’m sorry, okay? Can we just drop it? You don’t have to - you don’t gotta freak out on me
” Steve tried. But Eddie just stared at him, then looked down, kicking at the ground with the toe of his sneaker.
“God, you’re such a fucking asshole...” he muttered under his breath.
“I’m an asshole?” Steve repeated, offended and already exhausted from fighting. “Cause I asked you a question?”
“Cause where do you get off, that’s why. Fuckin’ - Am I just some kind of fucking joke to you? Is that it?”
“What - ?” Steve sputtered. “I don’t even -“ He tried so hard not to look as hurt by Eddie’s words as he felt. And when that got too impossible he just looked away. “You really think it’s that much of a joke, that I’d want to...”
“Come on! You think I don’t know this game? You figured out I’m into you, then what? What’s the play, King Steve? Huh? You ask me out so you can laugh in my face? Stand me up? Just hoping to watch me squirm? Well sorry to rain on your - “
Steve’s eyes snapped to Eddie.
“Wait, stop. Eddie - Stop! Just hold on for a second.” He held out his palms, trying to cut Eddie off mid rant. “You’re into me?”
Eddie looked at Steve like he was stupid.
“Yes!” He yelled. The ‘duh’ seemed to be implied.
Steve stopped. He stood up straighter. Smiled.
“Really?”
“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie said, blushing again. “Fine. Yeah, you got me all figured out. A freak and a fag, the fucking - two in one special. Well, you know what Harring-whatareyoudoing?”
“Really?” Steve said again, swooping in close. Feeling bold or brave or, more likely, just plain stupi. He grabbed one of Eddie’s hands loosely in his.
Eddie looked down at the point of contact and then back up at him. Just so fucking lost.
“What is this?” Eddie said, squinting at Steve like he was an algebra equation. But that was okay. It had taken a few tries, but Eddie managed to pass with a C. Eventually. “This
” He took a shaky step backward. Shaking his head and trying to get his hand back. “This is fucked up, man.”
“Go on a date with me.” Steve took a step forward, following him, taking both Eddie’s hands in his.
“Stop messing with me,” Eddie said, looking almost afraid.
“I’m not messing with you. Go on a date with me.” Eddie was totally and completely silent. Eyebrows drawn together, eyes darting all over Steve’s features, trying desperately to read them. Steve gave him an impish grin. “You like me,” he said smugly, but his voice couldn’t help but soften. “I like you, too Eddie.”
“You’re straight!”
“Says who?” Steve shrugged with a shy grin.
Eddie’s mouth hung open as he stared at Steve with those big, doe eyes.
“O-Okay
? Sure. But, I still — why would you want to
” Clearly, Eddie wasn’t getting it.
“I like you, dude,” Steve said, pushing down the nerves. Wanting this to go well. Because God, if it went well

Eddie pointed to himself, mouthing the word ‘me’ with just the most comical look on his face. Steve let out a small puff of laughter.
“Yeah
 I’m like, kinda totally gone on you, man.”
Eddie was shaking his head ‘no’. Steve put his hands gently on both of Eddie’s cheeks to stop him as he nodded his own head ‘yes’.
Normally, he’d be worried about encroaching on Eddie’s space like this, considering tonight he had shown himself to be especially flighty. But the way Eddie was gripping his wrists, Steve probably couldn’t have backed off even if he wanted to. And he really didn’t want to.
“Eddie
 you’re fun. And you’re funny. And you help me take care of the kids. You look out for other people, and I like how you're always singing under your breath, all the time. And how you’re so
 just, passionate with the stuff that you care about. And — and you’re hot.”
Eddie gave him a bewildered look.
“The uh, bad boy thing it’s
” he huffed a breath, “it works.”
“Uh
“
“What do I gotta do? To prove it? C’mon,” he asked quietly.
Eddie's eyes immediately darted down to his lips. Just like they always did when Steve got him close. Only now, maybe he can finally do something about it. Steve smiled.
“Yeah?” Steve asked in a small, intimate voice. No one else was around to hear, but still, Steve wanted it to be just for them.
Eddie looked hypnotized by the way Steve was bridging the distance between them.
Steve kissed him, soft and slow and perfect. Eddie melted into it immediately, and they kissed like that in the dark for a nice, long while.
Steve pulled back to see Eddie’s reaction, finding he had gone completely frozen. His eyes dazed with shock.
Oh god, Steve might’ve broken him

Steve held him by his cheeks again, gently tilting his lips up so he could land one more kiss.
“Eddie?” The two of them just looked at each other.
A moment passed. And then another. And then Eddie was back online and had Steve pushed up against a tree. Steve groaned when his back connected with it. He likes that way more than he should.
Eddie’s forehead was pressed against Steve’s. He had his hands all over Steve, touching and caressing and roaming over all the uncharted territory of his face, his neck. Like he didn’t know where to start now that he had permission, so he settled for everywhere at once.
“What the fuck. What the fuck, Harrington?” Eddie muttered before kissing him. This time it was Steve who melted. Eddie pulled back, leaning away from him.
“You're not fucking with me, right?”
Steve shook his head ‘no’, losing the fight against a far too honest smile.
“Fuck,” Eddie whispered again. And then they were making out again, and Eddie was licking into his mouth, and his touch was restless, relentless, pressing into Steve’s skin, hands finding their way into his hair, under his shirt; and there’s that electricity.
It left him tingly all over. Steve moaned low.
“M’sorry I yelled at you.” Eddie pressed the words into Steve’s mouth.
“Make it up to me,” Steve panted.
“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie said, still repeating himself, and Steve could feel a warm breath on his lips. It smelt like cigarettes and cheap beer, but tasted like something that fell out of heaven.
Eddie’s hands slid down the curve of his back, slipping into the back pockets of Steve’s jeans, squeezing hard. Steve jolted, his breath catching.
“Fuck, I’ve always wanted to do that,” Eddie groaned, sounding agonized by the feeling.
Steve chuckled, winding his arms around Eddie’s lower back and dragging Eddie against him. He widened his stance just enough to coax Eddie’s thigh into the space between his legs so he could grind down on it.
Eddie leaned back to watch him do it, directing Steve against his thigh with the hands cupping him firmly from inside his jeans pockets. His eyelids were heavy, and there was something dark and hungry behind them.
“Fuck, Steve. That’s fucking beautiful, you know that?” Steve made a noise in the back of his throat, pulling Eddie against him — demanding another kiss.
Steve could feel Eddie getting hard against his hip. It hit him with a full-body shiver. He knew Eddie had to feel what this is doing to Steve, too. And that also made him shiver a little bit.
“Eddie, wait - “ Eddie retreated just enough to nestle his face into Steve’s neck, placing soft, almost apologetic butterfly kisses into the sensitive skin.
“I’m getting carried away, aren’t I?” he said, without even pausing.
“No, me too,” Steve struggled to say between too big, heaving breaths. “I wanna do this right, Eds. Take you out, pick you up in my car, let me buy you dinner.”
Eddie pulled back to look at him. He had that look again, eyebrows drawn together like Steve was a puzzle he might never figure out. The difference was, this time he allowed some of that vulnerability he was so terrified of seep out through the cracks.
Then slowly, very slowly, the corners of his mouth started to rise. He was smiling mostly with his eyes, though. It was so fucking beautiful Steve felt his whole chest clench tight.
“Tonight doesn’t count,” Steve said.
Eddie laughed brightly. “No?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Beer isn’t dinner.” Eddie kissed him again, slow and languid and simmering so hot that Steve felt his insides start to boil from the glow. “Wanna romance you for real. Please?”
“Fuck, Steve. How are you supposed to say that and expect me not to fuck you right here on the ground?”
Steve jolted, his abdomen clenching in white, hot want, Eddie’s words and the gravel of his voice sending a sharp thrill down his spine.
Eddie leaned back a bit, grimacing.
“Right, I don’t know if you’re - if you’d be into, uh -“ Eddie trailed off, unsure. Steve huffed out a laugh, leaning his head back against the tree. Still breathing hard, he looked at Eddie from down the slope of his nose. He let his eyes roam lazily, checking Eddie out. Taking in his messy hair, his shiny pink lips, his broad-shouldered leather, his pretty face, and the expression on it that was so incredibly horny it kind of took every scrap of Steve’s willpower not to do something about it. The corner of Steve’s panting mouth twitched up.
“You want to? Fuck me?” He said it almost like a challenge. Eddie laughed, like that was another one of those things that came with a ‘duh’. Like it should be obvious.
“I am but a man. And you
 are
” He let his sentence trail off again, because he knew he didn’t have to elaborate. His eyes said it all, the way they roamed slow down Steve’s body.
He squeezed Steve’s ass again and pushed his thigh up, trapping Steve against it. Steve choked on a sound that died in his throat.
“Fuck. What is even happening...” Eddie said, closing his eyes. “I feel like I’m about to wake up from a dream right now with the world’s least ignorable hard on.”
“Dream about me often, Munson?” Steve asked, lolling his head smugly, really just joking around.
“Fucking - Yeah. Dude. Like, a lot. Fuck, the amount of times I’ve gotten off thinking about this exact
” Steve’s eyelids went heavy, his lips parting in a small exhale. He could feel his breathing start to flutter. “Sorry, too much?”
“You’re the one who better not be fucking with me this time.”
“You have no idea how close I am to just dropping to my knees and blowing you right here, just like, instinctually.”
“How close exactly?” Steve raised a lecherous eyebrow. He couldn’t help but blush a little. This morning, his highest hope was that Eddie liked him back —
That Eddie had been dreaming about him sucking Steve’s dick? Yeah. That one might go to his head a little.
Eddie laughed and hid his face in Steve’s neck again. Steve wondered if that was just an Eddie thing — something he could expect more of
 if Steve played his cards right.
“Fuck,” he muttered against Steve’s skin. “Could you tell?” Steve made a questioning noise, nosing at Eddie’s big frizzy mop of hair. His shampoo smelt like clean, fresh pine. He let himself breathe in deep, already addicted. “About my big stupid crush on you I’ve had since forever?”
Steve bit his lip, pressing his cheek into Eddie’s skull. God, he felt like such a fucking doofus smiling like this with his dick rock-hard between them.
“Okay, I’m worried you really are fucking with me now,” Steve laughed. Eddie shook his head ‘no’ against Steve’s skin.
“Since high school,” he grimaced, leaning heavily into him. “Not once did I ever actually even let myself consider that you’d ever
. Shit
. I can’t believe I blew up at you like that. God, I’m sorry I’m such a fucking dick
”
“You liked meeee,” Steve laughed. He was barely listening anymore. Eddie had been crushing on Steve in high school! That had got to be like five points for the You Rule board, at least!
Eddie reached a hand between them, squeezing Steve’s cock. He squeaked in surprise, trying to resist the urge to find further friction.
“By the looks of things, you like me well enough too,” Eddie said, nipping at his ear lobe.
“Hey. Stop it, stop that,” Steve said, wriggling in his grip. “I told you. I really wanna do this right.”
“Gonna wine and dine me, Harrington?”
“Can I?”
“Depends. You put out on the first date?”
Steve chuckled.
Eddie emerged from the space between Steve's head and neck. His eyes were soft and warm, and he had the dopiest lopsided grin.
“What do you take me for?” Steve said, pretending to push Eddie away with no real force behind it. He wanted to keep Eddie right here, in his arms, solid and warm on his chest, smiling just like that for
 for however long Steve could manage to make him feel loved. Reminding him how much he deserves it, the loving.
“Fine. But I call next. You want romance, Harrington? You better be prepared for the whole nine yards. I’m talking flowers, I’m serenading you at the door - because yeah, I get to pick you up for date two. Oh, I’ll be pulling out chairs
 and opening doors, laying down my jacket to help you over puddles . All of it, till you’re just sick to death of it. Just you fucking wait
”
“I suppose I could learn to live with it
” Steve said, rolling his eyes before laying one last kiss on Eddie’s stupid, perfect grin.
fin ~
Merry Holidays Sunflower!
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iheartmapi · 5 months ago
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Vicious
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Alexia Putellas x Reader
Summary: After Spain’s match against Germany, Alexia injuries her knee. Having to take a health break from playing irritates her, Y/n tries to cheer her girlfriend up to no avail, they fight and Alexia leaves
she’s gone for a long time so you go looking for her.
Angst with happy ending.
TW: crude language, degrading language about oneself, ACL injury
Word count: 1,691
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The sun was setting slowly behind the city landscape, the warm tones slowly turning into various shades of violet and dark blue almost reminded you of the way Alexia’s mood drastically changed after her ACL injury.
You stood in the kitchen of your shared house, occasionally looking behind you to see your moody girlfriend sitting on the couch in the living room, her injured leg perched up on a small stool, you were making some tea, the electric kettle buzzing, two cups were on the counter, for Alexia’s tea you had went with a blend of chamomile and lavender, it was advertised as “calming” and that’s one thing she definitely wanted right now.
As the kettle got done with heating the water up you swiftly poured it into the cups. You carefully put them on the coffee table and finally sat down next to your girlfriend. The silence went on for maybe like two minutes..during the few past days it felt as if you were walking on eggshells around her, you turned your head to look at her and smiled even though she wasn’t even glancing in your direction, only looking into emptiness with her brows furrowed and arms crossed almost like a small child that didn’t get its candy. “Hey, don’t worry so much I’m sure you’ll heal quickly, why don’t you drink some tea-“ You were about to finish your sentence but Alexia opted to cut it short “I don’t want tea right now” Well that was rude
but you shouldn’t be so hard on her, after all you knew how difficult dealing with this injury was for her, so you kept on trying, trying to cheer her up. “Oh
well how about we see what they’re playing on the TV? We can always watch some show or movie or anything really-“ Alexia sat up straighter, irritation clear in her eyes “Can you quit it with the tea and TV? Or better, just quit trying to cheer me up, it’s annoying” she barked at you, “Alright, Jesus
sorry for wanting to be nice” you answered calmly but it was evident that you were offended and perhaps getting annoyed with how unapproachable she was being lately.
“”Nice”? For fucks sake Y/n! Do you see my leg? I’m useless, and I’m supposed to be a ball of sunshine just because you want it?!” She waved her hands around like a maniac “But why would I expect you to get it” she scoffed, you turned to look at her again your eyes narrowing “Seriously? Am I some subtype then or something?“ Alexia looked away, running away from your gaze that was demanding an explanation “I didn’t say that” she answered more quietly now “You kind of did though” you argued, “Oh my god can’t I just live in peace for one goddamn minute?! Here you go again, making a problem out of nothing, it’s like this every time something isn’t in tip top shape
it’s tiring Y/n, I swear you’re so difficult for no reason” that kind of hurt, you were appalled by her outburst “It’s not my fault, don’t you think it’s hard for me as well? Especially when-“ You bit your tongue before you could finish that sentence, maybe it was true and you were really making a problem out of nothing..but you had your emotions too, and Alexia shouldn’t be expecting you to be fine every time she gets enraged like this.
“Especially when what?” She repeated your words, her tone sharp, you took a breath not wanting to answer that, “Especially when what Y/n!” She said once again, this time nearly yelling, “Especially when you’re such a vicious bitch everytime you’re mad!” Quietness fell upon the both of you, before Alexia suddenly got up from the couch, slowly though as to not make her leg worse..but even for her it was clear how hasty she was trying to be with her moves.
“Where are you going?” Your eyes were trying to run after her, she waddled towards the front door “Doesn’t matter” she fumed, you didn’t follow her at first, but as you heard the sound of jingling keys you stood up as well and rushed to the front door, surely Alexia was leaving.
“Alexia?” Confusion crossed your face, and then worry and regret for your earlier words “Alexia come on! I’m sorry I didn’t mean it!” She didn’t answer your pleas, and just left
you sighed as the door closed.
She was a grown woman, you couldn’t just stop her from leaving the house if she wanted to..you sulked onto the carpet beneath you, hands covering your face, why the hell did you say that? You were definitely too rough on her..but at the same time what were you supposed to do? There was nothing you could do now, you were just going to wait for her to come back home, after all she couldn’t be out for too long, especially with a leg like that.
So here you were now, sipping on your tea as you sat and welled in your own sadness, eyes glancing at the empty cup on the coffee table that was supposed to be Alexia’s..It’s been probably three hours now, and there were no signs of life from Alexia, you picked up your phone; the lack of messages or missed calls from your girlfriend was no surprise to you, you picked your best friends number, Mapi, you had to talk to someone when there was no one in this empty house filled with bitter tension.
“¡Hola, tía!” Mapi’s voice echoed from the other side, “Hey” you answered, a small smile on your face, which was heard in your tone but the overwhelming sadness took it over, Mapi could easily recognise that, “Is everything alright? You sound very down in the dumps” you weren’t sure how to answer, eventually you just sighed and told Mapi about what happened earlier with Alexia.
“And then
she just left the house, it’s been three hours I’m starting to worry, I mean- what if she like fell down and hurt herself even more or something?” You said “You know how she can be, I’m sure she’s fine, she can’t stay mad at you forever Y’know?
especially not you” Mapi said with her cheery voice “I have to go and look for her” you answered seriously “Have you seen her? Do you know where she can be?” You then added, looking for any kind of answer for someone in reasonable humour “Nah
sorry, just be careful ok?” The girl attested “Yeah..I promise I’ll be” the two of you said your goodbye’s and you hanged up..you grouched, trying to think of ANY place Alexia could be right now.
Then one thought came rushing to you like an arrow, what about a specific football pitch she always went to after lost matches? You figured; if she was gone for so long, and you didn’t know where she was then it wouldn’t hurt to drive there and see for yourself.
You literally bolted to your car, and just drove
fifteen minutes passed and you arrived at the spot, the football pitch was set in the outskirts of the town, here it was quiet for a change, the sky was now dark since so much time has passed
as you looked around the place you could understand why this place brought a sense of comfort to Alexia.
Through the tall fence you noticed a figure sulking on one of the benches, as you entered the pitch, it became apparent to you that it was Alexia..thank god you thought first, at least you knew she was safe.
You sauntered over to the bench, the melancholy, regret and anger all mixed together into one confusing combination hanging in the air.
The two of you didn’t say anything for now, instead you just sat yourself next to her on the bench, once again Alexia’s gaze was far and blurry she was just simply staring nowhere. “Alexia
” you kept it quiet not wanting to cause any more arguments today. Finally, your girlfriend looked at you with something else than annoyance and silent resentment.
“Please, let’s go back home” you asked half-whispering, her chest rose as she took a deep breath, it’s like she wanted to but didn’t at the same time, maybe going straight to the point wasn’t the first option, there we’re definitely some things the two of you needed to say to each other. “I’m sorry
I know it’s hard, I know how useless you must feel right now..I really just wanted to make you happy, I hate seeing you like that..that- that I’m just willing to try anything to make it better” you started, Alexia turned to you at once her eyes almost glassy “I’m..I’m sorry too Y/n I just don’t know what came over me..I guess the irritation took over me, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you” she answered “I don’t know why I did that, but I just
I don’t know, it’s my whole life, and now with this stupid knee I’m just stuck home, and I just feel like I’ve got no other purpose” she almost teared up, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into an embrace “Alexia
you know that’s not true” you whispered “Injuries happen, you’ll get back to playing in no time I’m sure” you added, a quiet sob was heard, it was unlike her to be so vulnerable
but you appreciated that she was able to show that side of herself with you.
Pulling away, you placed a kiss on her temple, “You’re right, let’s go back home” she said wiping the traces left behind by some tears with her sleeve.
You got up and offered her your arm, she took it and the two of you slowly made your way towards the exit of the pitch.
“I’m sorry I called you a vicious bitch”
“No, don’t apologize, you were right then
I guess I was a bit of a bitch” she smiled
“I’m sorry for calling you annoying” she then added more seriously
“You were being honest then too” you grinned as well and the two of you chuckled.
“I guess we’re a good match together”
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(Thanks to @kshvue099)
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disgustingtwitches · 2 months ago
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A Rose In Harlem
You're stuck in a romcom with your new asshole neighbor, Simon Riley
Masterlist
PART 1
A rose in Harlem starts to bloom

***
Simon despises New York. But, truth be told, he hates every big city; they're all too loud, too crowded, and too filthy. Too prone to tragedy and attacks. He much preferred the solitude of the countryside, miles of quiet stretching in every direction. As long as he had one of his squad mates snoring close by and the soft chirp of crickets, he could sleep far better than he ever did now.
Because right now, someone decided that playing Shakira at nine in the morning on a Sunday was acceptable. The ceiling shook with every kick of the bass. Simon stared up at the ceiling, frustration gnawing at his patience. He considered himself a patient man, but his sleep was sacred. He barely got any as is; nightmares he refused to acknowledge, waking up in cold sweats, insomnia from irregular missions. He’d fallen asleep just as the sun rose. And now it was
 9:01 AM. He groaned while he rolled off his mattress on the floor and stretched, muscles tight as ever.
Throwing on some sweatpants and a hoodie, he headed next door, ignoring the little doorbell with a camera on it.
He pounded on the door, adjusting his mask. Nine bangs and the music finally stopped. A feminine voice came through the speaker,
“Can I help you?”
“Your music’s too loud.”
There was a pause.
“Welcome to Harlem,”
That was all he heard before the music up again-louder than before. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath in. Go to your happy place, his mandated therapist told him. He doesn't have a fucking happy place. His childhood home? His shitty flat back in London? In his new, somehow shittier apartment in New York? He thinks that the back of his eyelids are the happiest place he knows of, just blank and dark. On some days he wishes that he'd stay in that darkness for good.
He clears his throat and opens his eyes, looking at the stupid little camera in front of him. He pounds on the door again, harder this time. The door seemed to flinch under his fist. The music didn’t stop this time, just lowered.
“Jesus, you knock like a cop.”
The voice on the other end sighed, annoyed. The fucking audacity.
“Lower your music. Surprised no one else has complained.”
“Because they know how to mind their business. Keep banging on my door, and we’ll have an issue.”
Simon laughed internally. Did she really just say that? He was big enough to make any threat against him ridiculous. Or maybe the camera makes him look smaller than he is. He leaned in towards the camera, finally acknowledging it.
“We’ll have a real issue if this keeps up.”
“Oh really?”
“Really.”
“You’re real bold, you know that? Coming in here, smoking those nasty-ass cigarettes, stinking up the place. Then banging on my door, telling me what to do? Go fuck yourself.”
Simon’s fist clenches as the music turns back up to full volume. He has half a mind to kick down the door and throw those speakers out the window. Maybe the listener too. But he was working on his temper, so as he walked out of the building, he looked up where the nearest hardware store was.
‱
It was nearly 3 AM when the drilling started. Right on the wall behind your headboard. What the fuck? You groan and cover your head with your pillow. Who the fuck is drilling at this time? You think for a moment, then remember that big fucker who was pounding at your door earlier. Of course, it's him; of course, he'd be the type of asshole to do some shit like this.
Ten minutes passed, and the drilling stopped. Thank God. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep again, it started back up. You bang on the wall repeatedly out of frustration. There is a moment of silence. Then you hear a few bangs back, mirroring your own before continuing to drill.
You feel like screaming.
“Piece of shit. Wanna wake me up in the middle of the night? Act like you don't have any fucking sense?”
You mumble to yourself, throwing on your slippers and a hoodie. The drilling keeps going as you walk out your door and head to his. You repeatedly press the doorbell indignantly. The whir of the drill stops. You brace yourself to face that hulking mass that you stared at through your doorbell app earlier. Fists clenched in your hoodie pocket and chest tight, breathing hard and fast, still worked up. You think of the right words to call him, something that would cut deep. But after a moment, you realize he's not going to answer the door. Pussy. You say to yourself before turning and storming back to your place.
It was quiet for the rest of the night.
***
You're disoriented when your alarm goes off, eyes blearily looking at the screen, trying to read the time. You drop your face into the pillow, groaning in exhaustion. Ishta wanted to meet you for coffee before work today, which means she wants to talk for at least thirty minutes. You contemplate texting her and calling off the rendezvous, but she gets in a mood when you do that. And you are not in the mood to deal with that today. You roll out of bed and get ready for work.
As if the day couldn't get any worse, the elevator's broken, so you have to use the stairs. Your mood sours with every step down, thinking of all the bullshit that's happened in less than 24 hours. Fucker knocking on your door, talking crazy to you, then waking you up in the middle of the night? Acting like he can do whatever the hell he wants. The hallway reeks of cigarettes.
You bump into someone while walking out of the foyer, distracted by your thoughts and phone, checking to see what time the train is coming. You almost apologize then stop yourself when you look up. It's him.
You're pretty sure he's wearing the same clothes as yesterday: a black hoodie and sweatpants with a face mask. Does he wear that because it's flu season or because he wants to hide his face? Probably the latter.
“You're gonna make people nervous running around like that.”
You don't try to hide your face of displeasure. He is unaffected, catching his breath slowly and deeply. His dark eyes lock with yours.
“Am I making you nervous?”
He asks in a tone that's almost taunting. You roll your eyes, taking a deep breath.
“No.”
“Then why do you care?”
His question upsets you a little.
“Because I'm a decent person,”
Is what you settle on. His eyebrow twitches. You don't like how heavy the air suddenly gets. You adjust your bag and step around him, rushing to the subway.
***
Ishta giggles zooming in on the man on your screen.
“He looks tall. And strong.”
You sigh, taking your phone back and tucking it into your bag.
“He's an asshole.”
“He's hot.”
“You can't even see his face!”
You groan, exasperated. This is the first time you actually get to lead the conversation, and the topic isn't even about you.
“I knew it was only a matter of time when I saw that stupid Chick-fil-A open up here. Now we have him running around like he owns the place.”
You sigh into your tea, trying to calm down. Ishta is enjoying this much more than you.
“They opened another one up at 181st too,”
Ishta smirks, leaning back into her chair.
“Do you think I'll be seeing any big, strong, mysterious men in my neighborhood anytime soon?”
She laughs when you make a face. Putting your cup down, you groan.
“He's British.”
Ishta waves her hand around, gold jewelry catching the light of the rising sun.
“Oh babe, he can't help it. You know, I heard it's a genetic thing.”
Her smirk turns into a wide smile when you chuckle at that. Maybe today won't be so bad.
Wrong.
You are blindsided coming into work, forgetting your very important presentation with the museum's benefactors. It takes ten minutes just to pull up the slideshow and they all seem unimpressed and bored. Halfway through, your manager calls for a quick break and meets you outside in the hallway.
“What is going on in there?”
She whispers in a harsh tone, leaning so close you can smell her ridiculously overpriced perfume. You bite your lip, avoiding eye contact.
“I'm sorry, my neigh-”
She pinched the air, manicured fingernails held up to your face.
“I don't care what you got going on, just don't embarrass me like that again.”
It takes all of your strength not to smack her hand away. She stares at you, waiting for a response. But you keep your mouth shut, knowing that if you open it you'll likely lose your job. She pulls back, straightening out her skirt.
“Try to be more engaging. And you look like hell.”
The rest of the presentation goes without a hitch, the benefactors perk up when you start spouting some technolect bullshit about the newest artifacts your department has been working on procuring. Your manager soaks in all the praise like she had anything to do with the newest developments in your department.
The lack of sleep is catching up to you when you're sitting at your desk, staring at the same email for twenty minutes, trying to remember how to tell someone to jump off a bridge professionally.
As per my last email,
You hold the backspace, erasing and writing the same sentence over and over again.
“RISD giving you a hard time with the Hiroshige prints?”
Ishta’s voice startles you, her tall frame hovers over your shoulder. You feel a headache forming right between your eyebrows.
“I don't know what they want from me, they seemed so eager to work with us before.”
“Their board of trustees got a new member, total cunt. The Met is having a hard time too.”
“What the fuck is her deal?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, nearing a total meltdown. Ishta places her hands on your shoulders, taking deep breaths.
“Just close your eyes and think happy thoughts,”
You roll your eyes but humor her, mimicking her breathing.
“Think of getting more grant money. Chocolate cake from the bakery down the street. And your hot neighbor's barrel chest-”
“Knock it off, he's so insufferable.”
You smile, playfully knocking her hand away and waving her off.
“I need to focus now, so go.”
She blew kisses at you while walking away and you turned back to your computer, a small line blinking on a blank screen.
Just following up on my email below. Let me know if I should be talking to someone else about this

After spending too much time writing your email, you leaned back in your seat, checking your phone absentmindedly, opening your doorbell app and playing the videos of whoever walked by. Miss Dowdy with her miniature pinscher, Nina bringing her groceries, a masked figure donned in all black tucking a cigarette behind his ear.
“Am I making you nervous?”
His words replay in your head, uninvited and relentless. You don’t like the way his voice makes you feel. It crawls under your skin, makes your stomach twist.
***
Your bed feels softer than usual when you flop down on it with a groan, slipping into deep sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You jump when you hear a bang. Groan when you hear another. Grit your teeth at the third bang.
Hammering. This jackass is hammering in the middle of the night. Blood boiling, it takes all of your strength to not scream and bang your fists on the wall like a madman. Your head hurts from clenching your jaw while you slip into your slides and storm next door.
You press the doorbell rabidly. It takes a solid minute before the locks click and the door swings open. You stare at the tattoo sleeve that peeks out from under the hoodie he rolled up to his elbow before looking past him and into his bare apartment. It's clean but empty and cold; there is a mattress and a huge TV on the floor, a single chair at a small table, some weights, and a milk crate. He leans against the doorframe, blocking your view.
“Evening.”
He’s insouciant, lighting a cigarette as he addresses you, his calm cutting deeper than any words. Your vision blurs with red, fists trembling at your sides, shaking with the force of your restraint. He catches it, and the corners of his lips twitch upward, like he’s savoring the storm he’s pulled from you. It takes everything in you not to lunge at him, but the bitter knowledge of how futile it would be keeps you rooted in place.
“You're an asshole.”
The words make him hum in acknowledgment, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke into his apartment.
“Don't know what you mean. You're being very hostile to me right now, angel.”
The disparaging pet name sends you over the edge, you snap.
“Don't act stupid. You keep doing that shit and I'll take that dumbass hammer and
”
You keep going like this until your anger subsides, blood no longer molten, just under a simmer for now. His face is stony, eyes unnervingly dark and devoid of any emotion. You wait for his response, the silence stretches for longer than you're comfortable with. He looks down at your chest briefly.
“Chilly out here, huh?”
He finally says, twisting his body to grab an ashtray from the countertop next to him. You furrow your eyebrows, confused.
“What?”
Then you glance down-and your stomach drops. You forgot to put on a bra before coming out. Mortified, you cross your arms in a desperate, clumsy motion. The shame burns hot, but it’s fleeting, quickly overtaken by a rage that feels twice as strong now. If that’s even possible. He cuts you off before you cuss him out (again).
“Start the music later and I'll stop.”
You want to argue. Be stubborn. Lie just to spite him and wake him up bright and early next weekend. But you’re too damn tired. And he’s too damn good at making your life miserable when he wants to. So you sigh, rolling your eyes with the kind of exasperation that feels like defeat.
“Fine. Yes. Whatever. Just stop banging on the fucking wall.”
He stubs out his cigarette, shoving the ashtray aside like it’s an afterthought. He turns, stretching lazily, his arms braced against the doorframe, looking every bit the smug bastard he is.
“What’s the magic word?”
“Fuck you.”
That gets him. His split lip twists into a crooked grin, sharp and mean, but somehow entertained all the same. For a moment, it throws you off, and you realize this is the first time you’ve actually seen his face. All of it. Every nasty scar and shadow he hid underneath that mask.
He snaps his fingers and points at you amusedly.
“Yeah, that’s the one. Night, angel.”
And with that, he shuts his door, leaving you in the hallway alone to stew in your frustration.
You tuck your annoyance away while lying down to sleep, you've spent enough time stressing over that man and you'll be damned if he messes with your sleep anymore than he already has.
***
"A mattress on the floor and some weights? That's it?"
Ishta's voice crackles through the phone, entirely too enthusiastic about the details you're sharing. It's clear her concern lies more with Mr. Asshole than with you. She's already connecting dots you wish she wouldn't.
"You know guys like that always have good dick,"
She says, tone smug.
"All they need is a bed and a pull-up bar or something. The rest takes care of itself."
You sigh, leaning on the windowsill and opening the bedroom window, letting the cool air hit your face.
"Is dick all you think about?"
"Maybe if you got some decent dick in your life, you'd be less stressed. How do you think I keep so calm?”
“You said it was kickboxing last week.”
You wedge the phone between your shoulder and ear, twisting the cap off a bottle of rosé. She continues,
"Well, that too,"
Her voice is light and breezy, like this is just common knowledge.
"But it's all about balance—therapy, exercise, and, you know, some mind-blowing se-ex."
She drags the last word out, sing-songy and teasing, the grin in her voice unmistakable. You can picture her lounging somewhere, phone in hand, not a care in the world. You roll your eyes and take a sip, the tart sweetness of the wine softening your irritation.
"Dick is more trouble than it's worth."
That sets her off, laughter bubbling through the phone. It’s the kind of laugh that makes you soften; it’s contagious, disarming, and you hate how it pulls the corners of your mouth up despite yourself. She catches her breath,
“Oh, please. You just never got good dick.”
“I've gotten good dick!”
“Not recently!”
You finally give in, a reluctant laugh slipping out, satiating her smug amusement before you bid her a quick adieu and hang up.
Putting on something soft and slow, you hum along, the melody wrapping around you as you sip your wine. The night feels calm, city heat radiating from the sidewalks finally cooling down, loud music being played a block over. Leaning out the window, you take in the cool air, only to startle when you spot him sitting on the fire escape, smoke curling lazily from his cigarette.
“Jesus fuck! ”
You jump, heart pounding as you clutch your wine glass.
He looks at you, unbothered, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he takes a slow drag. You’ve seen his scarred face before, but now you really take it in: the crooked nose, proof of who knows how many fights; the slit through his eyebrow, jagged and uneven; the deep-set eyes that seem to pierce right through you; and a jawline that looks like it could cut glass.
He shifts, catching you staring, and for a moment his brow furrows, like he doesn’t like it. But then, he talks, voice low and calm, smoke puffing out between his words.
“That true?”
He asks, breaking the silence as he exhales a plume of smoke.
You blink, caught off guard.
“Is what true?”
He flashes a smile, like he just thought of a joke.
“You never got good dick?”
Your face gets hot,
“Do you usually listen to people's conversations?”
“Only when it pertains to me.”
“How do you know I was talking about you?”
“You familiar with a lot of men who sleep on the floor?”
You twist your face, disbelief etched in every feature.
"No. I am not."
"Yeah, didn't take you for an easy lay."
He tilts his head, a flicker of smugness dancing in his dark eyes.
"Need some good dick?"
You cringe, the audacity hitting like a slap to the face. He shrugs, unapologetic, like he's just offered you a drink instead of an indecent proposal.
"Offer stands. You know where I am."
"Unfortunately."
You mutter, disgust laced in the single word. He drinks up your venom, savoring the bite in your tone. He places a hand on his chest, feigning hurt.
“You wound me, angel.”
Does he ever take anything seriously?
“Are you always such a jerk off?”
He points at you, cigarette dangling between his fingers.
“You know, you like calling me every name under the sun, don't you wanna know what it actually is?”
“What? Your actual name? Thought you preferred ‘asshole’.”
He snorts,
“Might as well, seeing as you've got that down pat.”
He cocks his head, shadows cutting across his face, deepening the scars and crooked edges of him. His face was rough, but you always liked character—distinct features that tell a story.
You don't say anything, trying to hide your flicker of curiosity by sipping your wine, but he sees right through you.
“Simon. Be sure not to wear it out. Yet.”
“I like ‘asshole’ better.”
“Does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?”
He stands, towering from your perspective as you perch on the windowsill. He stretches, a casual movement that feels anything but. Your eyes betray you, catching on the faint trail of hair that starts at his belly button and disappears under his waistband. He’s definitely doing this on purpose.
“Night, angel.”
He winks, self-satisfied.
“Bye, asshole.”
Your voice has softened, more playful than biting. He flicks the butt of his cigarette onto the street below before looking down at you.
“Good girl.”
The words are tossed down like a gauntlet, casual and deliberate, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. Your stomach twists, warmth spreading before you can clamp it down. You frown, annoyed—at him, at yourself, at how easily he gets under your skin. You sit back, swirling the last drops of wine in your glass as you watch him slip through his own window, vanishing into the dark. You hate the way his words echo in your head.
You're not gonna fuck your neighbor. Don't fuck your neighbor.
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