#oh sweet jesus why are there two tags.

[correctrvbquotes]

Doc: An A.I. fragment? That I remember. Hey Simmons, remember that A.I. I had for a while? That thing was crazy.

The Meta growls and approaches Doc

Doc: Yipes!

Washington: Halt. Meta, stop!

Doc: Wyaa! Simmons, help me!

Washington: You, what did you just say?

Doc: Tht- tht- tht- tht tht, that I had one of your A.I. units?

The Meta grunts

Washington: Stand down. You said had. Where is it now?

Doc: Gone.

Washington: Which one?

Doc: Uh, uh ub, the mean one.

Washington: Its name. Did you know its name?

Doc: Uh, O'Malley. I mean uh, Omega.

Washington: Well that one's been accounted for.

Doc: I-I only had it for a short time.

Washington: Well then good. You know what to look for. I need a complete scan of my friend here. And I would recommend you don't use any needles. He hates needles, and we wouldn't wanna make him angry, now would we?

[pedrospatch]

fall into temptation | three

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high. 

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter. 

His youngest daughter. 

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still. 

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit. 

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none. 

Still. 

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation. 

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him. 

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told. 

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs. 

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.  

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you wore underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,498

Warning: stress, yelling, fighting, kisses, insecurity, self doubt, language, suggestive, whipped cream

A/N: Things are getting are getting spicy now!! Y'all aren't ready for part four!! A reminder, of you want to be included in the tag list YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One, Part Two, Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

The smell of cedarwood, one you used to love, was now suffocating you like a toxic gas. Your eyes blurred in shock as Toji pressed his chest against your back. Letting you know this was real and you weren't in a drunken haze.

“Are you listening to me?” Toji spoke again, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “I told you we need to talk.”

A year and a half ago, the old you would have given in, allowing him to give you any explanation he pulled out of his ass. You, however, had grown in your time away. You didn't have to listen to him.

“I don't want to talk to you.” Your voice trembles, not in fear, but in a boiling rage that was settling in your chest. “Get the fuck off me.” The disbelief in his eyes is almost comical, but he doesn't move. “Get! The! Fuck! Off! Me!”

Your ex listened this time, promptly stepping back and holding both of his hands out in front of him. “Jesus fuck, sorry. But I'm serious about talking to you.”

A scoff of disbelief is the only answer you gave him as you washed your hands. If you kept your body constantly moving, you wouldn't freeze up again. Despite your best efforts, your traitorous hands continued trembling. Unfortunately for you, Toji noticed this, his eyes lingering on your hands before drifting to your face as you dried them off.

“Do I make you that nervous?”

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?!” The rage finally boiled over, like hot milk on a stove. “Nervous?! You think I'm nervous?!” You stormed forward, jabbing your pointer finger into his chest.

Your rage and finger jabs only have Toji rolling his eyes. His much larger hand shot up, grabbing and squeezing your wrist. His skin on yours made you feel a certain way. That contact was something you craved before, something you felt like you needed. Now? That contact made your stomach churn with nausea.

“Ya’ done lying?”

“Let me go.”

“No, I asked you a question. Are ya’ done lying?” Toji steps forward, crowding you against the wall. “Because we both know you're lying to yourself. You are nervous; you've been nervous since you stepped foot here in Kyoto with your friend.” His words stung like lashings from a whip. “I make ya’ nervous; that's why you've been avoiding me. And I don't like being ignored.”

A rage burned in your eyes as he waited for you to respond. How dare he corner you and act like you were the problem! You yank your wrist away, glaring up at him.

“That friend of mine is my boyfriend! And I'm not nervous around you. I can't stand you. Being around you makes me sick.”

“Oh, that's rich. Why is that Y/N? Why do I make you sick?”

“What makes me sick?! Toji, did you forget you broke off our engagement a month before our wedding? You broke my heart! Being around you fuckin’ hurts; do you not understand that!? So what you see as nervousness is me trying to heal!” Toji’s eyes widened as you continued your rant. “So that’s why I have no desire to talk to you! I don't care what you have to say!” But knowing Toji, he wouldn't back down so easily. “But you won't leave me alone unless you say whatever the fuck it is you want to say! So what is it, come to gloat about your life as a married man? Come to show me a picture of your pretty wife?”

“Watch it.”

“Or did she find out about your gambling problem and can't handle it? So you want me back so I can take care of us?” You had fully intended for that to hurt, but your insults just bounced off him. A smirk turned at the corner of his scarred lip.

“You think I'd actually want you back?”

His words stung like a million scorpion stings. It knocked the air out of your lungs as you felt your stomach drop. Toji slowly came to the realization of what he had said, his smirk falling as he saw the tears in your eyes.

“Y/N, fuck, I didn't mean it like that.”

You shoved your way past him; your heart thundered in your ears as you grabbed your sweater and bag off your chair. All of your friends were far too drunk to notice the state you were in, waving bye as you headed for the door, dialing Satoru’s number. Hot tears flowed down your cheeks as you tried to keep some composure.

He picked up on the first ring. “Our first drunk call; I'm so excited to hear all the cute things you're gonna say.” When Satoru doesn’t hear the commotion of the bar, his teasing tone vanishes. “Y/N?” God, he sounds sincere, like he might care for you. “Sweetheart, what's wrong?”

“T-Toji’s here, and I—” a sob rips through your chest, “I can't do this.”

“Where are you?” You listen to him shuffling a door opening and closing.

“Outside of the bar.”

“Is he around?”

“N-No.”

His breathing was shallow; the background was breaking in and out. Was he—running? Why would he come running to you?

“Good, stay there; I'm on my way.” The line went dead, leaving you standing there, staring at your phone.

The inn was nearby, so it shouldn't take him long, maybe a ten-minute walk, maybe faster since he was running. But he couldn't come soon enough. Your head kept turning toward the door to the bar, anxiously waiting to see if Toji came out. God, you prayed he wouldn't.

Your chest was constricting, and your eyes blurred as you fought against the tears threatening to escape. You didn't want to cry more. Because it was a waste of time, energy, and tears. There was no sense in crying over something so silly!

“You think I’d actually want you back?”

His words were on a loop. Slicing into your still bleeding heart, cutting new wounds, deeper ones. Which was so stupid! You would never get back to him! Even if he asked you to. You two had grown apart, your relationship toxic. So why did it bother you so much? Words from a man that hadn't been in your life for so long!

You glanced towards the night sky, the stinging feeling slowly turning numb. You knew deep down why it hurt. A reason that made you feel sick and weak. Like some fucking pathetic character from a soapy book.

If Toji didn't want you, who would?

A hand gently grabs your shoulder, turning you around. You turn, expecting to look up to the almost magical blue eyes of Satoru. Only you can find dark blue eyes. You step back, only to have Toji grab your purse and yank it, pulling You back towards him.

“Leave me the fuck alone!!” Toji flinched at your broken plea. “Haven't you done enough tonight?!”

“Look, I’m sorry! I didn't mean it like that!”

You fight against every urge to punch him. “Oh!? Okay, what did you mean when you said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back?’ Because it seems like you meant it to me!” Your purse falls to the ground as Toji pulls you closer. His hands clamp down on your upper arms to prevent you from moving away.

“Will you shut the fuck up for five damn minutes!?”

More tears stream down your face; your eyebrows knitted together pathetically as he bent down slightly, forcing you to look up at him. There was no use fighting it. He wasn't going to stop; you were trapped.

Satoru was breathing heavily as he turned the same corner he'd walked with you earlier. When he did, he froze in his tracks, seeing you and your prick of an ex standing outside. Toji was squeezing you, yelling something in your face. Satoru’s heart clenched when he saw the way your eyebrows pinched together. You were distraught, visibly upset, and you—you were crying.

Something inside Satoru’s chest snapped, and he bolted forward, rage painted over his features. “Hey!”

Your head whirled towards his voice, Y/H/C hair, tear droplets flying. He swears it happened in slow motion; fuck, you were even pretty when you were upset. Your face softened, the disdain melting away like snow in the spring. All because he was there, knowing that he had that sort of effect on you made his heart race. Making you happy was all Satoru had wanted to do.

Something he had never felt with clients before. Because the more time he spent with you, the more Satoru got to know you, the less you became another client on his calendar. To him, you weren't just a number, a dollar in his bank account, were Y/N.

His Y/N.

Not this fucking assholes. Not anymore! Satoru grabbed Toji’s wrist, forcing him to release you. Your ex-fiance glowered as Satoru pulled you to stand behind him. When your hands clung to his shirt, he released his vice grip on Toji’s wrist.

“You again.” Toji sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, me, the boyfriend.” Satoru crowded Toji, the two men face to face. “I’m guessing you didn't hear me the first time.” He eyed your ex up and down. “If Y/N wants to talk to you, she will. But as you can see, she doesn't, so fuck off.”

Satoru backed off as you buried your face into his back. He knew you were crying. Still, your body was trembling, hands clinging to him, keeping you grounded so you didn't break down. The state you were in irked him the wrong way, and his fist clenched, longing to hurt the dick who'd hurt you as much as he’s done to you.

“I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and Y/N. So you fuck off.”

“I'm Gojo Satoru, heir to the Gojo family business. I'm also dating Y/L/N Y/N, and I plan on being with her for a very long time! Got it?! Good now, if you’ll excuse us; I’m taking my girlfriend out for dinner, asshole.”

Satoru felt your grip loosen around him, a little gasp leaving your lips. “T-Toru.” A nickname, you gave him a nickname. God, he felt like he could fly.

“I got you, let's go.” Turning around, Satoru started leading you down the sidewalk.

He barely made it a foot away before he was yanked back by the collar of his shirt. Both fists shot up, ready to fight. Toji instead shoved your purse in his face. “Some boyfriend, you are almost leaving without her bag.” Toji waved at you as he headed back into the bar. “We’ll finish this another time, Y//N.” Satoru glared at him until Toji was inside; the second he was gone, Satoru grabbed your hand, leading you down the street.

You didn't say a word, but your smaller fingers intertwined with his, allowing him to lead you away. He pulled into a ramen shop, helping you in a booth before sitting across from you. You were wiping at your eyes, but more tears kept rolling down your cheeks. Satoru’s heart shattered seeing you so upset like this.

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccuped, “I god, I'm sorry, Satoru.”

“No, don't apologize.” He reached out, replacing your hand with his own. His thumbs gently brushed tears away. “What happened?”

You laughed, but it wasn't your usual happy laugh. No, this laugh was full of sorrow. Satoru didn't like it when you laughed like that.

With a breathless sigh, you leaned into his hand. “Toji cornered me in the bathroom. He kept wanting to talk, and well, things were said.” Your lips brushed over Satoru’s palm as you spoke. “In the midst of my anger, I asked if his wife found out about his gambling problem. And if he wanted me back to take care of him like I did. Jokingly, of course, and he—” Your bottom lip quivered. “H-He uhm, god, it's so stupid—”

“It's not stupid, please tell me.”

You took a deep breath, “He said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back.’” Your voice was so fragile as you repeated those pain-ridden words to him.

“Are you kidding me?” Satoru’s other hand cupped your other cheek. Holding your face gently as he watched as your face contorted with emotional pain. “This is the part where you tell me you're joking, right? That he didn't say that shit to you?” The mind-numbing silence was the answer to his question. “That motherfucker, I should have knocked him out when I had the chance.”

“I-I didn't even mean it, ya’ know? I wouldn't get back together with him.”

“Good, because there's no way in hell I would allow you to get back together with that asshole. You deserve so much more.”

Your Y/E/C widened and glittered under the lights at his words. “You think I deserve more?” Satoru nodded, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. The look on your face was full of hope, a look Satoru had never seen grace your beautiful features before. But that light faded just as fast as it appeared.

It was doubt; you had been hurt so much in the past that you doubted the genuine words he was saying.

”Hey, I don’t say shit. I don’t mean.” Satoru whispered.

”I know, I just, I’m so confused.”

”Confused because you’re drunk?”

”No, I’m pretty much sober now.” You sighed, pulling away from his grasp. “I just, I’m conflicted.”

”Conflicted over what?” He cocked an eyebrow as you flushed. “Tell me.”

You gulped down some water before running a hand through your hair. “I just, us.” Satoru perked up. “I know I hired you to be my wedding date and all. But I like you.” You chugged more of the water down like it gave you courage. “And it’s not only because you’re super fucking hot. I also like talking to you, god I love talking to you.” Satoru’s cheeks flushed, watching you closely. “But what is the cherry on top of the sundae of you being everything I’d want in a partner is the fact that you came running for me today.”

”Y/N—“

”You dropped everything and came running to me. Like a scene from a Rom-Com.” Your nails clanked nervously over the glass, your gaze drifting toward the awe-struck Satoru. “I know I hired you, and this is your line of work. But I can't stop thinking about the kisses—mmmph!”

Before you could finish your last word, Satoru grabbed your face, kissing you deeply. His fingers gripped your chin but shifted to hold your cheek in his hand, cupping it gently. With wide eyes, you slowly kissed him back, melting against him.

Satoru slowly pulled away, his thumb moving down, caressing your bottom lip as he looked into your eyes. “I’ve never felt like this about a client before.” He panted softly.

”Really?” You smiled wide as Satoru hummed happily.

”That day we talked on the phone, I knew there was something different about you. Something I want to explore.” You giggled, tears forming in your eyes as he wiped them away. “So, what do you say we order dessert here for a little date?”

You looked around before shaking your head. “No.” Satoru’s face went pale as he looked you over, searching for an explanation. “The dessert here is shit, let’s go back to the inn, and I’ll make us something?” Satoru's breath was full of relief as he stood up, grabbing your hand tight.

”You are such a brat.”

Despite being a brat, Satoru followed you back to the inn. He watched with curious eyes as you moved around the clean kitchen. You were pulling out mixing bowls, cream, and chilled sheet cake. Your tiny hands so gracefully washed strawberries, your touch gentle as if they would fall apart if you handled them any other way.

Everything you did was done with skills he did not possess. Slicing strawberries, cutting the vanilla cake into the perfect symmetrical cubes. Satoru found himself under a spell as he watched your every move. God, you looked so gorgeous in a zone like this. Your smile, the way you move with purpose, focused on constructing the dessert you promised him.

You peeked at him from the corner of your eye. He grinned as he rose from his seat, striding towards you as you poured heavy whipping cream into the stand mixer before switching it on at medium speed. Satoru had a certain gleam in his eyes as he oh’d and awed at the cream inside the mixer. He was so fascinated, and he looked like a child in a candy store.

You tapped his shoulder, handing him a small vial. “Want to help me? You can put the vanilla in.” Satoru eagerly took it, opening it. He sniffed the bottle before looking down at you.

“Give me a hand?”

“Sure,” your hand slowly ran over the top of his, “just do a little bit.” The two of you poured some vanilla into the mixing bowl. A rich smell wafted up in the air. “Was this just an excuse for me to touch your hand?”

“What?” His tone was full of faux confusion. “No, never.” He quickly put the vial of vanilla down, his fingers interlacing with yours as he pulled you into his side. “What's the next step, chef?”

“We add in sugar.” You worked your culinary magic, sweetening the whipped cream. “And that is how I make my whipped cream; I use it at the bakery.”

“I love the whipped cream at the Ichigo Cafe.” Satoru groaned out, looking into the bowl. “So fluffy and sweet!”

You tapped your fingers on the bowl. “Why don't you taste it? Tell me if it's sweet enough for you. Mr. Six packets of sugar in my coffee.” He turned to face you, resting his hand on his hip with a smirk.

“I am not at all ashamed of my likes, Y/N.” he pulled the top of the mixer up. “I like my treats sweet; I am the Gordon Ramsey of desserts!”

“Satoru, watch out for the switch!”

Satrou smacked the switch while scooping a finger full of whipped cream. The whisk attachment spun around several times, splattering the two of you with bloats of sweetened cream. Satoru quickly turned it off, looking around at the white mess.

A big blob of whipped cream fell off his nose, smacking into the metal table. The sound, his eyes slowly glancing at it, and the stunned look on his face knocked over your giggle box. Your head tilted back as rich, warm laughter flooded the kitchen. Making Satoru melt as he wiped the whipped cream off his face, licking it off his fingers.

The sight of his fingers dipping into his mouth. Had you choking on your laughter? Cerulean eyes burned as he slowly pulled his finger out, smirking. His thumb brushed out your lip, smearing whipped cream over it. The action had you breathing heavily.

“Tastes sweet, but I think you're sweeter.” He leaned down, his lips brushed over your cheek. “Ten times sweeter.”

You closed the distance this time. Pusjingnhis back against the table. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him down and deepening the kiss—the taste of your whipped cream lingering on his tongue. Your sudden boldness had Satoru stumbling, eyes wide as you shoved Your tongue in his mouth, much like he had done to you earlier.

He whined, shutting his eyes tight as he grabbed Your hips, pulling you tight against him. “You're so beautiful, god Y/N.” He whispered in between heated kisses. “I think I started falling for you since that first phone call.” His honesty had you whining against his lips as he sucked and nipped at your bottom lip.

“Satoru~”

“God, I want you; I want you so bad, Y/N.”

Your heart lurched into your throat as you pulled away, staring into those blue eyes you were falling for. Satoru wanted you. He legitimately wanted you. Not just to take you out on a date, but he wanted you in ways you hadn't been wanted in a very long time. Ways you told yourself and Satoru you didn't need. But the desperation in his kisses, how his tongue moved against yours, and the hard bulge growing in his pants had your heart thundering, utterly breathless, and oh-so-wet

“Toru.” He groaned, trailing kisses over your neck, his hand squeezing your hips. “Toru.”

He pulled back, shutting his eyes tight as he rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he sighed, “I’m sorry as much as I want you. I don't want to rush you.” Your hands trailed over his toned stomach, fingers undoing the button to his jeans.

“Toru, take me to our room.”

Tag list: (AGE MUST BE IN BIO!!)

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira @faeryminnyx @tqd4455 @harmonyflora @volkins181-blog @noukstmblr @lovely212 @stinkinstuffie @desihopelessromantic @witchbybirth @sonicsolos @lilbiguy @supsiii @rentheannihilator

[pastlivesxpastlie]

⋆˚₊ show me what you are ⋆˚₊

enemies with benefits vessel x f!reader

summary: you despise your friend of a friend vessel, and he despises you. but you quickly learn you have more in common that you ever thought.

7.4k words

tags, head's up, etc: SMUT, soft sub!vessel, soft domme!reader, lots of antagonizing one another, enemies to lovers, established enemies, casual arrangement, making out, idiots in lust, sexting, masturbation (m + f), praise, dirty talk, pet names (puppy, mommy), cockwarming, cowgirl, pronebone, squirting

a/n: I'm nervous about this one. I've been working on this before I started feeling depressed and I just want it out on the world. Also, in the (paraphrased) words of @rat-that-writes "he could never hate me. I'm too hot."

You’re minding your business at a cafe when he comes in. You lock eyes like you normally do when you happen upon each other. Blank, dead eyes. Face so flat it’s not even a scowl. Sighs. Vessel. A friend of a friend of a roommate of a friend. And a thorn in your side. Ok yes he’s very smart…and witty…and talented…but it doesn’t make him any less arrogant and annoying to be around. You two run in the same circles but that doesn’t mean you hang out. You just exist, for better or for worse, in the same space. No one could understand why you and him didn’t get along. You two weren’t so similar that it was grating, but you also weren’t so different that you were unable to find common ground. But there was something in the way of you two connecting. Of feeling anything other than hate. 

You look back down at your book until you hear the chair across from you scrap across the floor and someone slump into it. 

“I need you.”

You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. You look up at Vessel and notice he’s staring at you expectantly. 

“Say something,” he says somewhere between a plea and a demand. 

“What are you talking about…you ‘need’ me?”

He looks down. “Uhm, well, you see…”

“Ves…spit it out.” You’re trying to keep your voice down as more people come into the cafe. Why couldn’t you have had this conversation at the party you both attended the night before? 

“I…fuck. I have…needs and…”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” You roll your eyes and crack your neck. “It’s 10 am…”

“No, let me…finish. God. I…have needs and I don’t really…want to look far. To get them met. Do you understand? Uhm…I..”

Is he asking for…?

“Use your words.”

He doubles back a little and licks his lips. Why do his eyes look watery? “Yeah. Yeah I'll use my words. Uhm. I was wondering if you’d be interested in exploring something sort of…loose with me. No strings.”

You laugh out loud from shock. “Is this a sick joke?”

Oh his little heart breaks when you laugh. You can see it. His sweet face drops. “No…no oh my god. I would never joke about this. Look. Hear me out. I…hun I am desperate. I need to just…” he puts his hand to his forehead… “I need the companionship…and the release…but I don’t have it in me to look for a relationship. Not right now and perhaps never.”

This is the first time you’ve seen him vulnerable and quite frankly you could get used to it. There was something about his voice that was different. Calm. Normal. Sincere. But you still feel that pull towards aggression. Instigation. “And someone you actively despise and harrass is your top pick for a fuck buddy?”

“I know we argue a lot!” he barks back. You shift uncomfortably as a couple at a nearby table glare at you both. Vessel clears his throat and lowers his voice. “We don’t get along. And what I’m asking for is a bit much…maybe we just…pretend for a bit? Every once in a while?” He gulps and shakes his head. “I’m genuinely pathetic, I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m being a fucking knob.”

You cross your arms and consider what he’s saying. “So you’re asking to have some kind of…situationship with me…without ever trying to be nice to me first?”

He wipes his hand down his face and groans. “I…fuck it. Yeah I am. I am here groveling and asking you to sleep with me every so often so that maybe I don’t do my own head in. And, also, I just thought maybe…since you’re…pent up and shitty like me. Maybe you’d like to have some fun every once in a while? It would be mutually beneficial. Our mouths would be busy, eyes closed. Maybe we wouldn’t even know it was the other.”

You scoff. “What is that supposed to mean? Pent up…” you straighten in your seat. But you knew exactly what he meant. You were high strung a lot, and Vessel made an excellent target for your frustrations. How could two shit stirrers find any kind of solace with each other? But…you didn’t have any other prospects banging down the door (or you). You put your hands up in surrender. “Ok. Ok. I’ll bite. Yeah…fun would be nice…”

“Right…yeah, yeah. Because I get the impression it’s been a minute for you and…”

“Dude, come on!” You interrupt. 

“Look,” he shakes his head and looks away, “you’re a nice girl when you want to be. And maybe if this arrangement is with you…someone I don’t really see often or whatever…” he finally looks you in the eyes.

~

That next Friday you’re in his flat for the first time. You sit on the couch awkwardly as he brings you some water and plops beside you. Ves bites the inside of his cheek. No one has really made any moves but first times are always awkward right? No matter what was going to happen tonight, it would be a first of some sort. The first time you’re nice to each other. The first time you really touch each other. “You look pretty.” He says sheepishly. 

You look down at your baggy band tee and short yoga shorts. “Don’t lie to me.”

“My god just take the compliment. We’re here just trying to have a good time and…”

“Ok ok. Thank you…Ves…that’s sweet of you to say.”

He turns a bit more towards you, searching your face. His eyes trace your body head to toe as he tries to stifle a small smile. This was his idea and yet he still doesn’t want to show you how much he likes looking at you. Being around your pretty self. You suddenly start to feel nervous as he scoots closer to you. He curls his long legs up underneath him and gently touches your arm. You study his fingers like they’re some harmless little bugs before bringing your gaze back up to his face. He’s not ugly. No. You just never think about his looks because he’s so annoying to you. But here you both are, looking at each other in quiet fascination. Your breath hitches.

“Why me, Ves?”

“Why not you?” Vessel rolls his eyes and moves a little closer and puts his hand out tentatively near your thigh. You gulp, pulling his hand to rest on your smooth skin. His hand rubs gentle strokes against you and his breath deepens. “You feel so good. God.”

“Yeah?”

He bites his lip and looks at you so dreamily. You chuckle. The world stops for what feels like the hundredth time since you’ve gotten here. You feel your head spin a little as he looks at you with what you want to call “desire,” but how could you two ever feel anything other than disdain? Vessel clears his throat slightly. “You can back out…before everything changes…”

“Everything’s changed already, Ves.”

His hand moves up your thigh and squeezes, kneading your soft flesh. He hums contently when you move closer, nearly on his lap. You were wrong when you said everything had already changed. It actually changed the moment you two instinctively moved closer. Not a kiss, but a hug. At first it was tense. Like siblings being told to hug it out. But soon the awkwardness wasn’t the most distracting thing. It was how he felt to you. Sure he was lanky and toned, but he had a softness. A gentleness in how his arms pulled you close and enveloped you. It made you feel like the tiniest thing. And you could tell he enjoyed it and wanted to relax. As he loosened up, he held you closer. He breathed you in. You swear you could fall asleep until he drags cheek and nose up your neck…it reminded you of an animal scenting something. Or maybe he wanted your essence on him. He starts to speak in a barely there whisper and then clears his throat.

“May I, please, start kissing you?”

You gulp. The hug alone aroused you, and the thought of kissing him made you feel completely brainless. “Yeah,” you whisper thickly. 

Vessel places small, gentle kisses in the crook of your neck, taking his time and breathing deeply between each peck. His lips are naturally pouty and feel so soft on your skin. He lets his lower lip drag up to your jaw before placing a delicate kiss right by your earlobe. You would say you don’t know what to do with your hands but they move on instinct. One gently squeezes his waist as the other traces lazy patterns on the back of his neck. 

“I love how your nails feel on me,” he whispers. He sounds like a different person. He’s actually lost in you…and you would know because you’re lost in him. You let your hand drift up to his hairline where you begin to scratch his scalp. His head falls back; his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. You chuckle softly and move both hands to his hair. Eventually you’re in his lap but you’re hesitantly to really relax. “I’ve got you. Have a seat, love.”

You start to feel nervous and the nasty voice in your head that says you’re not worthy and perfect for this kind of situation gets louder. “Is it because I’m easy? Do you think I’m easy?” You blurt out. So many times you’ve been taken advantage of and it wouldn’t even surprise you if this was one of those times where you were in the right place and desperate. 

Vessel’s eyes open, and he looks at you completely lost. He leans forward and helps you cross your legs around his waist. “You… darling…are one of the most difficult people I’ve ever encountered. It must really mean something if you’re here…in my flat…nestled on my lap. And I’m grateful. Thank you.” He begins kissing your neck again but with more fervor this time. More need. Your back arches as his kisses become wetter and his hands knead your plush thighs and ass. It’s no use. You give in to instinct and gently move his face to yours but you both stop. Your noses touch but the realization starts to set in. As quickly as you came together, you’re pulling apart.

“This isn’t the move, is it?” You ask, getting off his lap and smoothing your hair back.

Vessel inhales and rubs his face, groaning. “No. It was a mistake. Besides, you gave me that look.”

“What look?!”

“Oh don’t play dumb. You know the look. The one where you watch me flounder when you could help me.”

You scoff and stand up. “Wow you’re catching on. That’s how I always look at you.” You start to walk towards the door when you turn back to him. He hasn’t left his seat on the couch and doesn’t seem to care to do so. You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling. Arousal, but also annoyance at how quickly the mood changed. Certainly it was Vessel that ruined it, right? You feel that familiar stirring. To project. To rile him up and tear him down. 

He stares back at you. “You’re as pathetic as me. Don’t forget that. You wanted this too. You probably still do.”

Him being both right and cruel about it ignites a white hot rage inside you. You want to scream at him

ask what you did to deserve this from him. To ask him why he makes himself so easy to hate. But instead, you leave. 

...

A week later you’ve kept your weird interaction with Vessel in the back of your head but until then, you couldn’t give two dicks. It was the weekend. And it wasn’t like you to be at a bar like this. Metalheads. The hottest, tiniest goth girlfriends you’d ever seen. You felt out of place but your friends said “noooo we should go! It’s something different to do.” So you put on little black dress and Dr Martens and said “fuck it.” And you were glad you did because a new environment also meant new guys…and to your surprise you actually got some positive attention. 

You found yourself chatting with a guy at the bar as you waited for your drink. He was friendly and handsome enough; you had the ugly thought that maybe he was one of those metalheads who had never actually spoken to a girl, but that was quickly forgotten when you started a thoughtful conversation about a series you both like. And it wasn’t one of those conversations where a nerdy guy dominates and info dumps and corrects you like a jackass. It’s just…enjoyable. He finally starts warming up to you a little and lets his hand graze yours, laughing at your reaction when a sludgier song comes on. You bite your lip and giggle a little, flirting with him saying, “maybe I need someone to help me appreciate metal a little more.” Your hands briefly touch again, and he leans a little closer…letting his free hand lightly touch your waist. You play coy and back up a little. It looks like he’s about to get his phone out before his eyes trail up and behind you. You’re wondering what he’s looking at until you feel a looming presence and a wide hand rub against your back and shoulder.

“There you are, gorgeous. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

Your jaw clenches into a tight, fake smile. That accent. You look up at your uninvited guest.

“Hello, Ves. I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

The cute guy you were talking to looks confused and maybe a little sad. Fuck! You facepalm and groan as Vessel waves to him nonchalantly. “Heya…alright, mate?” His voice is dripping in sarcasm. 

Your brain scrambles. “He just means I’d been up here for so long I forgot about the friend group” you say trying to save face. “Not just him. Definitely not.” Vessel squeezes your hip in feigned affection which makes the guy tsk, roll his eyes, and walk away. “Wait, I’m serious,” but he’s already gone. You scoff, ready to pummel Vessel who was easily a head taller than you and more than capable of overpowering you if you tried. You actually liked that guy and thought something was there.

“What the fuck was that?” You ask, eyes shooting daggers into Ves. 

He snorts and shrugs. This is no big deal to him. “That guy was a loser.”

“So?! What do you care?”

“Oh come now, babes. You would have annoyed that bastard to death…he could have never kept up with you.” That shit eating grin. God you could just slap it right off of him. You know that he would leave you alone if you just…didn’t respond. Ignored him. But something kept telling you to egg him on. To react.

“You’re such a dick,” you say, rolling your eyes and walking away. You make it halfway across the bar when he grabs your arm. 

“HEY! I came over to talk to you. Don’t walk away from me.”

“Wow, and how inviting you seem right now! Sabotaging my night and grabbing me. Is this the only way you can get girls near you?”

His brows knit together and he stands closer to you…so much so you’re looking straight up. “Sabotage? Did you like him that much? If you really, really wanted to go home with him tonight then why are you here with me? Also…” he leans down to whisper, “I didn’t have to do much pulling and prodding to get to you mine last week.”

“What the fuck do you want” you sneer. But you find yourself wanting to stay put. The warmth radiating from his tall form. His cologne. The intensity of his gaze. Your attempt at a makeout session last week suddenly replayed in your head very loudly. You snap back to reality when Vessel huffs with a terse laugh and looks away. 

“I hate to say it but…I wanted to ask you something. Ask you…for something…again.” You search his face for understanding. He can’t even look you in the eye but you can tell he’s humiliated. Tail-between-the-legs humiliated. Little-boy-caught-by-mommy humiliated. The pause is heavy. The ambient noise in the bar fades away when he looks at you. He tries to find words but they aren’t coming. “Fuck. Never…never mind, it's stupid. Have a nice night” He lets go of your arm and storms away. 

You’re left there with your jaw on the floor. Usually this tall arrogant nerd wouldn’t shut up giving you a hard time. Now he’s running away. Without thinking, you follow him outside the bar and call out. 

“Ves, what the hell was that?” You hate to say it but you actually feel concerned. Like you have to finally put down your senseless grudge and actually talk to him. “Are you ok?” 

He looks out down the street. It’s a busy Friday night. Folks bar hopping, getting Ubers, whatever people who like each other do downtown, but it feels like it’s just you two. Your eyes bore into him, and he finally looks down at you. Blankly, but at least he’s looking at you. “I know how we can make the…‘situation’ work. 

“Oh? Other than bothering someone else?”

“Do you know what? This is your problem. You’re mouthy and always antagonizing to try to keep some hold over me…and I want all of it. I need you to keep being that way with me. Please.” His voice has dropped to a gravely murmur as his hands shake in clenched fists at his side. 

You two stare at each other for a moment too long. It’s uncomfortably intimate. You’re having a conversation without speaking and it eats at you. You should not want this. Not again. Not him. “What do you mean?”

He fidgets. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Are you kidding? You’re really going to stand here and ask me for something again without defining any terms? Without playing your part in whatever this sick little thing is?”

“If it’s so sick then why are you blushing? You blushed like that when I kissed your neck in my flat. You’re like me. Come on.”

You cock an eyebrow, realizing slowly what he means. “You like this…don’t you? Being put in your place?”

“You haven’t actually done it yet, but…if you did…we’d all feel better. Even if for a brief moment. An hour. An evening. Just…please,” he takes on that same pleading…groveling tone again. He means it. “I can’t…for lack of a better word and I know it’s stupid but…I can’t ‘show up’ and turn my brain off if we’re…equals or something.. So please…where do I belong? Tell me.”

The idea that this…dummy who antagonizes you wants to submit to you breaks your brain. But wait. 

“How did you even know to ask me about this, hm? Did you ask around…maybe even try to snoop on my socials?” Your voice isn’t harsh, but it isn’t gentle. Strict. Probing. 

The way he looks down and rubs the back of his neck, which suddenly looks biteable, is adorable. He gulps. “I uhm…I’m sorry…but I..”

You bite your lip and chuckle as he shifts from one foot to another. A couple walks past and gives you both a once over, which makes you stand closer to him. If he wants to feel claimed, you can try. Being in his personal space where everyone can see.

“I uhm…I heard you talking not too long ago…about…” he lowers his voice “about subby guys and…well..”

“Wooooow….so… been eavesdropping, eh, bub?”

He opens his mouth and only a little whimper comes out. “I’m so sorry.” He keeps looking down, but you reach up and guide his chin so he looks at you. 

“What a resourceful boy…” you say in a sticky sweet voice. “You were just dying to find something out to the point that you decided to sneak around? Was it fun? Little puppy sniffing around for clues…hm?”

Oh the blush that covers his face. The way his eyes sparkle. You know exactly when he overheard you wax poetic about submissive men to your friends at that party…because you knew he was there. You wanted him to hear…because you had your suspicions too. “Answer my question. Dig up your bones for me…did you have fun with your little secret mission?” 

He breaths shakily and bites his lip. Finally he nods…and gives you a big cheeky grin. “Yes ma’am.”

“Eh don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ Makes me sound old.”

“Oh sorry sorry uhhh I don’t mean to…”

“Ves…my goodness…it’s ok. You didn’t know.” You chuckle softly and feel like you’re looking at him for the first time. “Don’t be hard on yourself. And that’s my first order for you.” 

His back straightens a little and his pouty lips curl into a shy smile. “I can do that.”

“Good boy.” You can see his pupils dilate…his breath catch…his heart swell. Oh to be your good boy even though you despise him. 

Something inside you has snapped. Suddenly this insane “mutually beneficial” arrangement excites you. Having casual sex with someone you don’t like in the name of “some fun” was ok, but seeing now that he was naturally submissive made your head spin. This you could work with. 

“I will take a crumb. Honestly. Anything you’ll give me…even if this is the last time we talk about it and it falls through again…”

You put your hand up to stop him. “Stop that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winces when the word leaves his mouth. 

You smirk and brush his hair back a bit. Your nails lightly scratching his forehead. He wants to purr. To roll his eyes back and feel your nails all over him. 

“Look at you,” you whisper, letting your nails trail over his cheek. “Such a big baby. Aren’t you?”

“Let me take you home…please. Please…”

“No. Hmm. No, I don't think so. Not tonight.” 

He pouts a little bit but nods. “Yeah…yeah ok.”

“Mhm…be patient for me. Can you do that?”

He nods and bites his lip. You can tell he’s excited. “When we’re not like…playing or whatever…you don’t have to treat me any differently. It can be our secret. As we were, yeah?”

You take your time with this. You two rarely see each other as it is and like hell you’d mess with him in front of others. So things develop over texting and the occasional late night phone call…but usually texting. Talking on the phone leads to tone policing. Arguments. It’s best to just keep things borderline anonymous. 

Ves: are you too busy for me?

It was 10 pm. You were drinking wine in your underwear watching Scream. Technically, yes, you were busy. But you knew why he was texting and maybe it would be fun to indulge. 

You: I guess not. What do you need?

The response is instant. He was waiting for you.

Ves: nothing really. 

Ves: just wondering about you 

You: what about me?

Ves: what you’re doing. what you’re wearing. if I’ll ever actually get to be your good boy. feels like you want me at arms length all the time. Is that part of the fun for you?

What seemed like a fun flirty conversation has now turned somewhat emotional. You sigh, desperate to get things back on track. As you try to formulate a response, you get…oh.

The video’s thumbnail is dark, but you open it anyways. You hear blankets rustling and music being turned down as it becomes clear what he’s sent you. He’s laying on his back in bed; the blanket is pushed down to right below his belly button. You’ve never seen him shirtless…and now that’s all you want to see. Yeah he works out but he looks soft. Kissable. You can imagine how fun it would be to kiss down his neck to his tummy, telling him how pretty he is…making him feel small and fuckable. He starts talking…you can tell he’s nervous.

“Maybe this is too needy…too pathetic…I don’t know” he strokes his free hand mindlessly up and down his stomach, “but you like this. Maybe you want me to act out. Just tell me…please… Do you want me like this? Desperate…completely stupid…” As his voice trails off, he moves his hand down to his blanket-covered waist and palms…

“Oh shit,” you whisper as the outline of his cock comes into view and he speaks again. 

“I want you to want this…please…can I be needy for you?” The video ends just as he lets out a soft, breathy whimper. 

You compose yourself…or try to…and respond. 

You: look at you. Are you comfy in that big bed?

Again, the response is instant. 

Ves: yeah but I’m lonelllyyyyy. 

You: just pretend it’s me, sweetheart.

Ten minutes pass. Wait. Why are you sad he didn’t respond? Why do you care? Why…*ding ding*

Ves: ok, I did it. did I do good?🥺

Another text. A picture. What. A. Sight.

His hand concealed his now flaccid cock… but fully on show was his cum covered tummy. You choke back a moan and grasp your blankets. At this point you’ve forgotten who you’re texting and quite frankly you don’t care. 

You: such a good boy 🐶 you’re a hot mess, aren’t you? 

Crickets. Fucking. Crickets. You don’t hear from him for three days. You keep telling yourself it’s ok and not worth thinking about because you hate each other. It’s just mindless fun. Nothing personal. But then…it dawns on you. You’re technically in charge. 

You: come over  Ves: why? You: why do you think? be here at 8. don’t be a brat  Ves: 🧎‍♂️🐶 see you at 8

Right on the dot, he’s there. You’re hoping this doesn’t end the way it did last time. Necking in his lap before you came to your senses. But the energy is different. He stands close to and studies your face.

“What should I call you? When we’re…you know?”

“What feels natural? Other than ma’am…” you chuckle. Aw. An inside joke. 

He bites his lip and blushes. Why is he doing sweater paws with his hoodie? Such a slut. 

“I can think of one but…” he stammers, “not quite brave enough yet to use it.”

“That’s ok.” Your hands drift up to his chest, where you start to play with drawstrings of his hoodie. “Let me get you some water…do you need a snack before we get started?” 

He considers for a bit but shakes his head. “I can wait until you’re done with me”

You suppress a whimper. He’s in his subspace for you. Get it together. Also, easily entertained much? 

All he said implied was that he’d need sustenance after whatever you do to him because you’ll use him for all he’s worth. Very normal! Not worth whimpering over! “Let me show you my bedroom.” 

You gently pull let the hoodie’s drawstrings bounce as you let go of them. When you step inside your room he chuckles a little.

“Squishmallows eh?”

You give him a playful sneer, although any other time you would have laid into him. “Better get comfy with them if you want to do this.”

He’s already on the bed, shoes kicked off. He grabs one that looks like a shark and holds it to his chest. “Genuinely…your bedroom is really cozy. Thanks for having me over.” He says this as if it was any other conversation, but then he licks his lips a little. “I’m just going to lay here until you need or want me to do something. Is that ok?”

Well. You’re already straddling him before he can finish. “What have you been doing the past three days…hm?”

“I uh…” he stammers and looks up at you with watery puppy eyes. “Working. But…there were some things I didn’t do…”

“Yeah like talk to me.”

“Tsk. Stop. Just because we’re doing this doesn’t mean I’ve become a complete nympho. Honestly.” He rolls his eyes and looks away. “I was going to text you tomorrow anyways. I haven’t touched myself since that night we texted…haven’t…” he shifts under your weight and you feel a slight throb.

“Oh…is three days a long time for you? Hmm?”

He chuckles a little and squeezes the shark. “It’s…” he snorts when he laughs and hides his face. You move his hands and he chuckles a little more. What a beautiful sound. You realize you could recognize it anywhere and be better for it. “Yeah yeah yeah. It's been a long time for me. It’s usually everyday. Twice.”

“You gave up…six orgasms…for me? Of your own free will?”

“I wanted to do eight, gorgeous. I really did. But you texted and…”

“Well who said you were cumming tonight?”

He takes a deep breath and his eyes roll back a little. “My mistake.”

“No no no.” You lean down and kiss his forehead. “You did the right thing. Saving yourself up for me.” Your kisses trail down to his jaw. Fuck his soft and smooth. You gently nip at his earlobe and chuckle softly as he whines with pleasure. “You know what you are?”

“Hmm?” He lets out hazily. 

“A good boy. A good puppy. Coming when called. Obeying.” Your nose trails against his and you think for a second that this will be a repeat. You two will snap out of it. But he squirms again and pouts.

“I can be so good…please…”

“I’m not even doing anything to you yet…”

He groans as you slide off him and start palming his crotch. 

“Do you know how many times I got off thinking about that video you sent me?”

His cock bobs against your touch as he groans pathetically. “N-no…no idea. It wasn’t much…” 

You start to stroke him. Oh he’s needed this. His hips buck up into hand as he white knuckles the stuffed shark. Mumbled pleas fall from his pretty lips as you ask him what he’s hiding in his sweats. Your fingers slide under his waistband. His moans are whiny and whimpering. 

“Such a puppy.”

You slide his sweats and underwear slowly…just enough to free his cock. You gasp aloud. “Oh my goodness…Ves…look at you. Look. HEY.” You snap a bit to get his attention. His head is lolling back and you haven’t even touched his uncovered cock yet. “I said to look.”

He looks down and groans again as your manicured hands stroke him. You bite your lip and think about how exquisite it’ll feel inside you. The shark squishmallow is put to the side, and he comes up on his elbows. “Mmm..mm…your hands are so pretty. S’soft. Fuuuuck.” Your strokes are gentle and steady. His hips buck to control the pace but you gently flick his tummy. 

“Good boys don’t take.”

He pouts and settles into your bed. He seems to be enjoying himself. His legs twitching, his moans coming more often than not. But you wanted to play. You wanted his brain off. For now he was yours. You stop stroking. “Ves. Look at me.”

He whimpers when you stop and raises his head. The whimper turns into a strangled sob as the long string of spit from your lips coats the head. Your slow, teasing, wet strokes make his face contort like he’s sobbing. “Fffffff….uuuuCK! M-m-mmmm…mommy please.” You freeze and look up at him. 

“What was that?”

His face is all panic. “Oh my god oh my god no I’m sorry. It just slipped out…I’ll…fuck…no I’m so sorry.”

You lean forward and shut him up with a tender kiss on the lips. You allow his hands to trail over your ass and breasts, letting his touch linger a bit too long over your nipples. When you pull away, he’s blushing like crazy with hazy, dreamy eyes. “You’re such a good boy,” you whisper.

“T-thank you…mommy.” 

You slip out of your clothes and relish in his gaze. For the first time you don’t feel like he’s here to be your biggest critic…and you don’t need to mouth off to him. He looks at you with a dopey little grin. “Are you going to use me?”

You chuckle softly as you straddle him again. “You could say that. Make you my little boy toy. Would you like that?”

His whimpering keeps him from answering, probably because you’re teasing the head of his cock with your already wet pussy. “God…please use me. Please…it���s what I’m good for…I’ll make you so happy mommy I promise…please!!”

You blush and forget yourself for a bit when he brings one of his hands to his face. He looks adorable. He needs to be held. He needs kisses. “Give me a hand, puppy. Hold yourself still.”

He reaches down and holds his cock as you slide down. He hisses in pleasure and whines as you moan from the stretch. You grasp his chest as his cock disappears into your pretty pussy, your head thrown back and mouth wide open. Vessel’s breath is coming hard and fast as he touches you. He’s bottomed out inside you and he doesn’t dare move. You haven’t told him to. He needs to be good. The past three days won’t have been worth it if he fucks this up. 

You reach back and pat his thigh. “Bend your legs, puppy.”

“Yeah…yeah ok…” he groans out as he obeys. One hand holds his waist while the other trails under his hoodie. He whimpers and bites his lip as you toy with his nipple. 

“Lift your hoodie.” He lifts it only to expose his stomach but stops there. You tsk and pull it up so his chest is uncovered…mmm. “Look at my pretty boy…” you whisper as you kiss across his chest. You take in the warmth and natural scent of his skin…how he tastes under your little licks across his nipples…the texture of his skin between your teeth. A delicious chain reaction occurs when his cock throbs hard against you after leaving teeth marks on one of his pecs. “You’re being so good. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.”

He looks at you hazily. You’ve only been cockwarming him, and he’s already empty headed. He nods dumbly but then yelps when your pussy clenched around him. 

“Tell me what you thought about that night…when you made the video.”

He gulps and holds you close to his chest. His cock is buried in your tight pussy but he doesn’t dare move.

“I..heh…I thought about being your seat. Your human mattress.”

You kiss and suck on his neck, admiring the red marks already decorating him. “Oh? You like being squished?”

“I thought about something like this. But you’re…you’re fucking me. You lay on my dead weight and then…” his cock throbs inside you and he whimpers.

“Shh I know,” you kiss his temple and nuzzle his face gently. “It feels so fucking good, huh? You like being under me like this?”

“Mhmmm…so safe…mm soft…fuck!” He holds on to you like he did with the shark plushie, his fingers pressing into your flesh desperately. He grits his teeth as he throbs inside you and whines. “Y-y-you’re so…tight. What the fuuuuuck.”

All this time you’ve been covering his face with kisses, grabbing his chin every time he tried to hide from your affection. His heels dig into your bed as he tries to keep himself from squirming and fucking you.

“Can you be still? Hm?”

“Ye…yeah. Yeah sorry…you just…aahhhh fuck…”

“Use your words, Vessy.” 

His eyes roll back and his back arches slightly. “Don’t call me that…makes me feel little…”

“I do have you pinned down…don’t I? You’re the one squirming.”

His eyes are glassy as he pouts. “Are you enjoying this? I…I…don’t feel like you are…”

You consider this for a second. 

“I don’t want to keep going if you’re not…” His eyes are desperate. “You need this too…fuck…please tell me you need this. You want this right? Please I’ll make you feel so good…if you just bounce on it a little. Please please…I’ll be such a good boy. You can lay on me and…and…I’ll just be a toy. I can take it…let me show you.” 

You don’t even realize you’ve started fucking him. Your hips roll gently, and he lets out an almost pained moan. His hips meet yours and your eyes roll back.

“Fuck…puppy…” your head and vision go a bit fuzzy as he bucks into you and…oh dear.

“Shit shit shit…I’m…I’m sorry…I’m cumming…baby…baby…” he bites his lip and looks up for reassurance as his hands mash you down further on his cock. He hates that he came so fast, it’s clear, but fuck it feels good. 

“It’s ok…cum for me…” you whisper. 

He lays back and catches his breath. You don’t move…his spent cock still trembling in your pussy. He whimpers pathetically.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. He’s clearly not just coming off his high. 

“Fuck I just….” He closes his eyes. “That’s so embarrassing. We barely did anything and I just…came like a fucking virgin. Go ahead.” He covers his eyes with his arm, “make fun of me. Tell me how pathetic I am.” Wow. He already wants to go back to normal.

“No. I don’t think I will.” 

You’re still on top of him. Cockwarming him. You gently move his arm and look at him softly. His lips twitch. Not to kiss you, but to try and smile. 

“You feel nice on me,” he whispers. “I really like your body. Even…even before we started this. Thought you were pretty.”

You chuckle a little and rest your chin in your hand. “Not sure why.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do you know why I hate you?”

You shake your head and let out a little laugh. 

“It’s because you’ve made me realize I don’t have to be miserable. That I could be someone to someone else. But that requires…change. Taking care of my…stupid self. Being better. I can’t have you. You don’t want me as I am. Honestly. I’m a wreck. It’s better for you to hate me and only see me as a plaything.”

His hands trace lazy patterns on your back. How strange it is to have this conversation while he’s inside…but that doesn’t bother you as much as his confession does. 

“Vessel. Jesus. I…Ves…I can’t stand you because you’ve never been nice to me. And now you’re saying it’s because you like me too much, yet not enough to get over yourself?”

He winces and sniffs. “It would be easier, getting over myself, rather than trying to not feel something for you.”

You move his face so he’s looking at you again. “Do you want to leave,” you ask. “You don’t have to stay longer than you want.”

Ves cups your face and tries to steady his breathing. “No. No, I don't want to leave. I want to stay and pretend I’m not me for just a little while. Is that ok?” You stare at each other…your breathing syncs…your eyes search other’s face. He strokes your face and purrs softly as his cock begins to stiffen again. Each time it throbs, you whimper, which in turn makes him chuckle softly. His hand slides down to your ass. “I need you. You’re the only one I want to…be with like this.”

“You don’t want this with someone you love.”

His eyes bore through you. He huffs and bites his lip, leaving an indention you swear would break skin. “May I please…may I please fuck you again? Properly. The way you deserve.”

You gasp softly and nod. “Would you like to be on top, puppy?”

His inhale is shuddering and sharp as he nods dumbly. You slide off him and lay beside him on your stomach. Ves seems confused.

“A-a-are you sure? From behind?”

You nod and beckon him closer. He slides off his sweats but you tell him to keep the hoodie on. “How hard are you for me?”

Leaning against you between your legs, he lightly taps his cock on your ass. It’s heavy and feels warm against your curves. He kneads your plush ass and whines a little. “So lucky…I am such..a…lucky…fucking…boy….fuuucckkkk.” He presses into your gushy pussy with a long, pathetic moan. You press against him, and his grip on your hips becomes shaky. “GOD you’re so hot….fuuccckkkkkk.”

You chuckle and moan as he thrusts gently…just trying to create some friction without completely losing his mind. He leans down and you feel the draw strings of his hood tickle your back. You reach behind you.

“What is it?”

“Come here, puppy,” you whisper softly. When he does you’re able to grab the drawstrings…anything to keep him in place. Leash him. Your fingers grip the collar of his hoodie now, and he collapses into you. “You going to be good? Stay right here for me, hm?”

He can’t even speak…he just lets out whimpers and moans that sound like sobs. You can only gasp with each thrust as he blubbers about it feeling “so..so..so..fucking good.” He whines into your shoulder as you pull him closer but the hoodie. “Please…let me…let me touch…please…”

“Mhm…” you let out weakly as he ruts into you. His hand trails down and under you towards your clit. You buck back into him as his nimble fingers find your clit. Cumming on your tummy never came easy, but with an eager lover, you think now it could happen. No matter who’s fingers it was rubbing your puffy clit between his fingers. 

“Mm…baby…baby let me bad. Please I know…i know…i know… I’m good boy but please let me bad…”

You grip your pillow and groan as your pussy quakes around his long cock. He takes this and your slutty, high pitched moan as consent. He takes your wrists in one hand and grips them roughly. You would be concerned about bruises if you weren’t seeing stars from the way his cock’s head rubs against your g-spot. He lets out something like a growl as he fucks you faster and harder. You’re mashed into the bed and cumming for the second time as he grabs you tight and bites your shoulder. You yelp and moan pathetically.

“Ves you’re so bad….you’re so…fucking naughty….” You’re cumming again as you lift your ass like you want him to mount you even deeper. He takes a break just to feel your orgasm squeeze him and to catch his breath. You let go of his hoodie, and he quickly rips it off. A sharp spank lands on your ass…he hisses with pleasure as he watches the skin of your ass cheek pinken before he lands another on you. 

“May…may I roll you over…please” he asks as he pulls out of you and rolls you over. It’s almost adorable how he toes the line between the asshole you know and a precious submissive boy. He spreads your legs, putting one up against his chest as he presses his cock back into you. One hand grasps your tummy and the other holds your ankle for leverage. “You’ve ruined me…” he moans as your name falls from his lips. Over. And over. And…over. He nibbles and kisses your ankle as he presses hard on your squishy lower tummy. His gasps come hard as it’s quite clear he’s reaching his limit.

“Ves…you’re gonna make me…fuck…I’m…”

“That’s it. Please…I want to see it…I need it…you’re so …ffffucking gorgeous….” he grabs you harder and rams into you with a powerful groan, his eyes wild as he exhales and bites his lip. “You’re…you’re going to cum…so….FUCKING hard on me…you won’t be able to cum again without thinking about me…Fffffuuuhhh”

His face contorts as his second orgasm ripples through his entire body. The thrusts become short, hurried bumps against your pussy as your back arches. You begin to rub your clit in rough, hurried circles as he fucks his cum hard into you. His eyes are misty as he mumbles about what a pretty angel you are…how good you’re taking his dick when…oh god…

A few moments later, he’s pulled out of you, looking down at the mess you made. You had never…ever squirted. And this…well…Vessel did that. You had no energy to hate. To be mean. Everything was different now. “I…wow…”

“Ever done that before?”

You lay back and catch your breath, wiping your watering eyes, shaking your head. “No…so…thanks I guess.”

He rubs your thighs and chuckles. “You’re amazing. Do you know that?”

You smile up at him and chuckle.

“Christ, what?”

“You’ve ruined it.”

“Oh…fuck off..ruined what?” He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“My plans to die alone and hate you forever…thanks a lot.”

“Likewise, sweetheart.”

[tojipie]

BABES i love ur writing sm ugh can i request a how prisoner toji met the love of his life? mwah thank you

prison bf series linked here !

content: (p in v smut, car sex, fluff, angst, fem!reader)

you met toji on a weeknight during the short time you worked as a waiter in the city.

the restaurant was empty, save for him at a table in the corner. it was 30 mins before closing time, and the older man showed no signs of leaving. whether that was to your chagrin or your delight was still unclear.

“so that’s the foie gras and the bottle of La Grande Dame?” you ask sleepily, setting the meal down with a shaky hand.

“that’s right.” the raven haired man tells you, pouring himself a glass of the ridiculously pricey wine. “thanks kid.”

to say that you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified. the man in front of you was gorgeous, broad with raven hair and a deep scar running the height of his lips. you’d be blushing if it weren’t for the fatigue that’d settled throughout the length of your body. 9 hour shifts were no joke.

toji glances over at you, taking in the tremble of your hands. you’re a sweet little thing, probably new to the college you attend, working past midnight to pay off whatever you still owe from last semester.

“hey.” he whispers, motioning to the table, “sit down for a little.”

you glance around the restaurant in horror, he’s not talking to you right? he can’t be. you slowly let him lead you into the chair that lies opposite to his, sighing at the relief you feel in your thighs and shoulders.

“thank you.” you mumble, laying your head down on the cool wood of table. he chuckles at that, watching you rub the aches from your neck and shoulders. you don’t care who sees, much less if this interaction costs you your job.

“tired?” he teases, pushing his plate towards you.

“have some, pretty girls need to eat.”

“mm no thank you. i don’t like duck.” you mumble, letting the deep bass of his laughter lull you right to sleep.

you were fired within minutes, that much is obvious. doomed to hand in your little name tag and apron while the raven haired man bickers with your manager at the door.

“you call yourself a businessman? you work her like a fucking dog and you think that makes you a pimp or something? i told her to nap. she fucking needed the sleep!”

you tug on the sleeve of his suit jacket, urging him to follow you out the door. toji sighs, running hand through his hair.

“it’s ok.” you tell him, “i was gonna quit before spring break came anyways.”

sleeping on the job at a Michelin star restaurant probably wasn’t the best course of action. though it wasn’t all bad, you did end up receiving the best fuck of your life that same night.

“oh my god—fuck! oh my god.” you pant, digging your fingernails into the driver’s seat headrest. the raven haired man ruts into you from below, wrapping both hands around your waist to use as leverage.

“shit, you’re a nice piece of ass kid.” he mutters, reaching down to rub your little button with the pad of his thumb. you feel your stomach erupt in flames at the crude compliment. why hadn’t you tried fucking customers before?

you hang onto the back of the seat for dear life, wailing as you drip all over his thighs.

“look, that’s all for me?” he asks, pulling your cheeks apart to see where the two of you connect. the older man leans forward to suck on your neck, voice shaky with the force of his impending climax.

“you’re gonna make me fucking cum, you know that? fuck.” the way he holds you so sweetly deeply contrasts the filth he spews right into your skin. you’ve never been this cock-drunk in your life, babbling nonsense in the back of a horrifyingly spacious bmw while a man you met an hour ago pummels your cunt open.

it’s quiet as the two of you drive back to your place. toji’s suit jacket is draped around your shoulders, shielding you from the frigid night air. the windows are cracked to let the cold in, no doubt to try and get all the glass in the car to unfog.

jesus. you just want to go to bed.

“this is me.” you tell him, gathering your bag from the floor to enter your apartment. the raven haired stranger slips you a card with a number on it. you pocket it and thank him, giddy at his implication of seeing you again.

“i had fun tonight.” you tell him shyly, leaning over to peck the scar on his mouth. he groans, pulling you towards him to kiss your forehead.

“you take care of yourself ok? no more dead end jobs.” you nod, kissing him again.

“here.” he says sternly, slipping a rubber-banded roll of cash through the opening in your purse.

you pause, stomach turning sour at the gesture.

“i’m not a hooker, you don’t need to pay me just because we had sex.” you mutter, digging in your bag to give the money back.

“you know that’s not why i gave it to you.” he tells you plainly. tucking a loose strand of your behind your ear.

“do what you need to do, pay off what you need to pay, and then call me so i can take you out on a real date.”

you pause, looking at the ground shyly.

“ok?” he asks.

you nod, reaching to intertwine your fingers.

“ok.”

tag list ! <3 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies

[marybeatriceofmodena]

What did Andrew Lloyd Webber do to make Patti Lupone upset? Sorry, saw your tags and i was curious

Oh.

Oh honey.

You sweet child.

Anyway, get ready for one of the most infamous showdowns in all musical theatre history, with the guy who writes the straightest musicals on Broadway (derogatory) and the one and only, the matriarch, the queen, two three-time Tony award winner Patti LuPone.

So, Andrew Lloyd Webber was basically kind of a boy genius in his prime - he met his future collaborator Tim Rice when they were 17 and 20 respectively, he wrote his first big hit, Jesus Christ Superstar, at 22, with Tim Rice writing the lyrics. And it was kind of a big deal at the time because the topic was controversial (you know, the Passion with rock music), but also because Broadway wasn't that far off from its golden age and let's just say the music and style were very different from, say, My Fair Lady. Or The Sound of Music. Or Funny Girl. It was basically the Rent/Hamilton of its time. (Yeah, Stephen Sondheim was around at that time, he worked on West Side Story which was revolutionary in of itself, but he's kind of an oddball in this case. You'll understand why later.)

Their real follow up (I'm not counting Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for a variety of reasons) was a little musical called Evita, which you might know mainly because of a song called Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Or at least, your mom has probably heard it once at the very least. It's that song that's oversung from a musical while being out of context along with I Dreamed a Dream for Les Misérables. Or Memory from Cats.

Evita tells the story of Eva Peron, the wife of an Argentinian dictator, who basically screws her way to the top and ends up becoming the mistress of Juan Peron and the most beloved woman in her country through guile and deceit. Yes, I know the historical accuracy is very much debated but I know jackshit about Argentina's history except the bare basics so don't come at me. It was first produced in the West End in London, with Elaine Paige in the role, but because of Equity issues, she couldn't reprise her role for the Broadway production. So a Julliard graduate who was mostly starring in David Mamet plays got the part instead, and that was Patti LuPone.

Patti... did not have a good time during Evita, because the part is basically the kind of score where you can tell the composer is used to writing male parts, but most female singers have a two-octave range (yes, you got Julie Andrews who used to have a three-octave range, and many others, but they're exceptions), so she struggled a lot. That being said, if you listen to live recordings of her, you wouldn't be able to tell, and it got a lot easier later on. But she had this to say:

"Evita was the worst experience of my life. I was screaming my way through a part that could only have been written by a man who hates women. And I had no support from the producers, who wanted a star performance onstage but treated me as an unknown backstage. It was like Beirut, and I fought like a banshee."

This is from Patti's autobiography, which she wrote in 2007 - 8 years after shit with ALW went down. With all that said, she won a Tony Award for Evita, and she pretty much became a musical theatre household name from then on. She played Fantine in Les Misérables, Nancy in Oliver!, Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes. Meanwhile, ALW's next big hits were Cats (I'm not even kidding, Cats was a hit), and, you guessed it, The Phantom of the Opera, which he wrote in part to showcase his then wife Sarah Brightman's triple threat talents.

So, you need to understand before I continue that ALW, from my perspective, has always had a bit of an inferiority complex. He's basically associated to writing these commercially successful musicals that show a big spectacle but aren't ultimately substantial. I'm not sure I entirely agree with that, but I do think that if he didn't have Hal Prince, Maria Bjornson, Charles Hart and Gillian Lynne backing him up for Phantom, it would have probably been a Rocky Horror Picture Show knockoff people would have forgotten about pretty quickly. This is what I mean:

Yep, that was Phantom before any of the people I mentioned above (and Michael Crawford) were really involved.

Remember how I said Stephen Sondheim was an oddball? The thing with him is that his musicals weren't always commercially successful, but in general, in part thanks to being Leonard Bernstein's protégé, he was generally pretty well-respected and it was considered that his work was bringing musicals to a whole other level. Without Sondheim, you wouldn't have Jonathan Larson, and you wouldn't have Lin-Manuel Miranda. I am convinced ALW is resentful of that, and when you stop and think about it for more than 10 seconds, it's so obvious he REALLY wants to be Sondheim or at least command the same level of respect, but that's a story for another day.

So, after Phantom, ALW had other musicals that followed that either got a meh reception or outright flopped. Then there was Sunset Boulevard, which is based on the movie of the same name with Gloria Swanson. Despite all of her griefs for Evita, Patti LuPone agreed to partake in the musical as Norma Desmond, for its production in London, with the promise that she would transfer to Broadway once that production would open. And overall, after a string of flops, Sunset was actually doing pretty well.

HOWEVER. One day, while reading the gossip column of a newspaper, Patti found out that contrary to what she was promised, Glenn Close, who was meanwhile starring as Norma in the Los Angeles production, was to play Norma on Broadway. That was a complete surprise for her since no one on the production team had bothered to tell her it was happening - and keep in mind that for the news to come up the way it did in a gossip column, it probably would have necessitated a delay of a few weeks between the producers and the newspaper, which would have given them plenty of time to break the news to Patti. And Patti kind of needed the leg up because she was pretty bitter that a) Madonna was cast in the Evita adaptation instead of her; b) they actually lowered the key to fit Madonna's voice range, and she still had to expand her own to be able to sing the (lowered) score. And trust me, Patti is mad about it to this day.

So of course, she trashed her dressing room, the cast and crew weren't even mad about it because they were as shocked and angered as she was by the news. Patti sued Andrew Lloyd Webber for breach of contract, namely for 1 MILLION DOLLARS (yup, those are the real numbers), won, used the money she got from the lawsuit to get a swimming pool, which she called (and I SHIT YOU NOT) the Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool. Since then, Webber is dead to her, to the point rumor has it she had part of a building blocked during an event so she could get out of it without coming across Webber, because she hates him so flipping much she doesn't even want to be in the same building as the guy.

(There's also drama that happened with Faye Dunaway who was supposed to replace Glenn Close after she went from Los Angeles to Broadway, except they abruptly closed the show down after Close left, but that's a story for another day)

So with all the bad press, and with ALW forced to pay 1 million dollars for Patti's lawsuit, that led Sunset's productions to close earlier than expected. ALW has stayed around since, with... mitigated output, so to say. The lowest point for a lot of people is Love Never Dies, the sequel to Phantom, which some people love, and that's fine, but it didn't do well with either critics nor fans of the original show, which ALW is EXTREMELY BUTTHURT ABOUT. And like, there are so many stories I could tell about LND alone, but I will share my own crack theory about it, since it does relate to the ask.

Anyway, buckle up.

So. There have been jokes going around for years that the Phantom in LND is basically ALW's self-insert, where he displays to the world that he's totally not over Sarah Brightman leaving him (in part because making Phantom kinda ruined their marriage lmao), despite, you know, having married since. (Aaaaaakward.) So LND basically becomes this really uncomfortable therapy session where a man writes a self-insert musical about how his ex-wife made a big mistake of leaving a sensitive artistic soul such as himself. The characters from Phantom who appear in LND are all more or less unrecognizable as a result, and one who gets it worse (in my humble opinion) is Meg Giry, who was basically Christine's sweet and loyal ballerina friend who basically went into the Phantom's lair on her own to save her friend despite the danger. In LND, she's basically a bitter hag (because ALW hates women, guess Patti was right about that), who really likes the swim and even has a stripping vaudeville number about it, written in universe by the Phantom, no less.

For comparison, here's Don Juan Triumphant (the Phantom's opera in the original):

And here's Bathing Beauty (the vaudeville number):

Yeah, so... do you see why people hate LND already?

And that's not the only thing with Meg! She's also pining for the Phantom to pay attention to her and threatens to drown the Phantom and Christine's secret love child when he makes it clear that he's gonna love Christine for EVA AND EVA.

So, with everything we learned today about ALW, would someone like him view someone like Patti LuPone as some sort of crazy, bitter diva who's obsessed with him for whatever reason? Absolutely. Would he be petty enough to insert Patti LuPone into his self-insert musical, which gave us the version of Meg Giry we got in LND? Of course. Why does Meg love to swim so much and why does she drag Gustave out ostensibly for a swim? Is it a dig at Patti's Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool? Maybe.

I kind of hope we find out one day if that theory is true. And maybe start a kickstarter so Patti can add this painting from the 2004 movie in her collection.

Fun fact: during the process of casting for the 2004 movie adaptation of POTO, ALW allegedly suggested Patti LuPone to play Carlotta... only for Joel Schumacher to have to awkwardly remind him that they were not on speaking terms. The idea was therefore promptly dropped.

[angelcakestarlet]

salvatore

richie jerimovich x reader - richie makes carmy regret hiring the cute young waitress

wrote dis quick, messy, nd did not look over it but enjoy! :>

"so um look, natalie is going to be training you this week alright" carmy informs you as he sifts through a pile of papers scattering his desk. "you ever serve before?", "for a few months yeah, it's been getting me through college so" you twiddle your thumbs nervously. the restaurant was certainly... intimidating? going to school in chicago you had stopped by a couple times for lunch or drunk off your ass after the club. even while slurring your words you could remember how fucking good that sandwich was. even if most of it was puked up in the bushes out front.

"yo, cousin!" an abrasive voice comes stumbling through carmy's office door without warning, "sugar is out here telling me some bullshit about you hiring servers? look we don't need that shit. a sandwich comes out i fucking hand it to them, boom. why are you gonna pay some dipshit to do it for me?". you turn around to face the loud voice, being met with a tall, tan, buzzcut typical line cook with a deep accent. "jesus fucking christ, one of these 'dipshits' is standing in front of you richie." carmy yells back, obviously pained to have you witness that. "ah shit-" richie steps back to get a full length view of you, taking you in. his gaze felt like an intrusion. "i'm sorry, doll, richie jerimovich." he envelopes your hand in his calloused and rough one, introducing himself. "you know what i'm sorry, cousin, anyone with a set of eyes would hire her too" he snickers, with his hand still atop yours he takes his eyes away from you to acknowledge carmen. "cousin, get the fuck out, you fucking creep!" signaling for the door. "oh my god" richie sighs dramatically, "i'm stating the fucking obvious alright, you need marcus to come in here to tell you the same thing? yo, marcus!" carmen rushes to shove richie out the door, "i'm sorry, i couldn't help myself! look, you're beautiful, sweetheart!" he lets out one last compliment. you giggle to yourself and the man making a spectacle of himself.

carmen shuts the office door and sighs, rubbing his forehead with his tired hand. "i'm sorry, he's... he's a fucking jagoff." you appreciate the apology, but having worked in a restaurant has you accustomed to the snickers and comments from line cooks and customers alike. most of the girls usually brush it off, leaving them disgusted and a distaste for the job for the next few hours. but, your guilty pleasure has become using it to your benefit. free food from cooks, more money from tips, etc. you're sure you could work richie to your benefit just the same. "don't worry about it, he seems... nice" your ease settles carmy and he snickers, "you could say that i guess".

you follow natalie around the restaurant for the next few hours as she takes you through the front of the house and back, introducing you to everyone and all the standards. when five o clock hits, she lets you go, handing you an apron, a t-shirt. and a name tag. thanking her and setting out to find the back alley for a quick ciggy. you find richie lighting a cigarette in the dimly lit alley, "can i bum a cigarette?" you sit down beside him, smelling the smoke clinging to his shirt. "its your first day and you're asking me for shit?" he looks over at you and you notice his evident wrinkles, veins in his neck, and tired eyes. "pretty please?" you look up at him, turning your whole body to face him with a sweet smile on your face. he rolls his eyes playfully, "you know what you're doing huh?" he says as he pulls one more cigarette from its box. "open." you scrunch your eyebrows, confused at his request. his eyes shift to your lips, taking two fingers and tapping your cheek signaling for you to open your mouth. "come on," you separate your lips and he places a cigarette between them, lighting it swiftly. you feel your cheeks get warm, from the cigarette or from his words you don't know (yes you do). "thank you" you say quietly, still stunned a bit. "you know you're gonna ruin that sweet face smoking" he coughs through the lit cigarette. "oh are you telling me what to do now, richie?" you lean back, eyes entranced by the way his hands make the cigarette almost look like a lollipop stick. "a girl like you is probably looking for someone to tell her what to do, sweetheart". as you're trying to figure out whether that just pissed you off or turned you on, carmy bursts through the back door. "cousin, what the fuck are you doing?! we need you in the kitchen, now please! and leave the new girl alone, jesus" carmy yells as richie stomps on what's left of his cigarette and puts his hands up in defense. "i'm coming, fuck off. it was a pleasure, babe" he shakes your hand and makes his way inside. you peer at the closed door, listening to the muffled argument carmy and richie have in front of it. great first day.

[targaryenluvs]

MAKE YOU STAY / EDDIE DIAZ

PAIRING: Dark!Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Your attempt to leave Eddie won’t work, because he won’t let them, or you.

WARNINGS: Obsession, guilt trip, jealousy, possessiveness, sexual content, manipulation gaslighting & entrapment.

WORDCOUNT: 2.3K Words

A/N: Happy season 7 launch!! I got inspired slightly by @megalony and her new Dark Evan series go check it out!!

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

Life with Eddie use to be everything you could ever dream of. Whether it be slow mornings getting ready together, sharing a shower and helping Chris get ready. Or an absolute hurricane ripping through your home whilst the three of you stumble over each other to get ready after a sleep in.

No matter the time of day, you loved whatever you were doing, as long as they were by your side.

And Eddie’s protectiveness use to be just another aspect of your relationship you loved, until you opened your eyes.

It use to be small, his anger.

An incessant colleague reaching out for tips and aid in a new project, you being a senior member meaning it wasn’t uncommon for people to reach out to you. You were one of the best workers at the company, well respected and loved as well as brilliant. And always willing to help someone in need.

He use to love that about you. Until it followed you home.

Chris was currently at a friends house, leaving the two of you to an inside date night, “Now on what planet would I ever sit and watch four movies with the title ‘Die Hard’. You sure as hell can’t die that many times.” Eddie shook his head as you refilled each of your respective glasses.

“Sure you can, just ask Chimney.” You gasped before swatting Eddies arm, “Be nice! And put on our show.” The murmuring voices of your favourite characters was more than enough to lull you into his arms, content washing over you. Your ringing phone however, was ready to disturb the peace Eddie had longed for all day.

“Let me just grab this.” His hand scooped your phone up before you could, “Just get it later.” His dismissive tone made you frown, “Give me my phone, please.” You leaned over to snatch it, walking into the hallway. Eddie couldn’t help but massage his temple, did you seriously chose a phone call over peace and quiet in his arms?

He hadn’t noticed how often you picked up your phone, until it interrupted him. It happened often. When the two of you were cooking together, soft music and ambience long forgotten. Almost falling asleep, cuddling, and out of the blue the world was falling apart without you. Eddie thought he could handle it, you were needed, that wasn’t your fault, right? But what he also couldn’t handle was the secretive nature.

Why did you always walk away? Were you hiding something?

And now you were coming home later, clanging into the house at 11, or 12. Sometimes even later. “Where were you?” Eddie stood by the door as you hung your jacket, “Jesus, you scared me E.” His arms were crossed, shoulders tense as you made your way to him, a smile too wide for his liking. “Work ran late, m’ sorry.” As you walked away, his hand caught onto your wrist.

“Ow, let go.” Eddies grip loosened as you retracted your arm, soothing it, “What is your problem?” You looked up to view a sweet smile, “Nothing, just worried about you. When you didn’t call, I got so scared. This world, it’s scary Y/n, you know that, especially during these times.”

Your eyes watered involuntarily at his saddened demeanour, “Oh Eddie, I’m so sorry, I should’ve called. That’s my fault, forgive me?” Your arms came around his neck, before trailing down to his chest, playing with his name tag. “I forgive you, I can also think of a way you can make it up to me.”

His smile was mischievous, and intentions impure. “Oh? And what would that be Mr Diaz?” His hand was heavy on your back and slithering lower by the second, “I think we have an appointment with a bed tonight.”

“I have work tomorrow, so do you.”

“Cmon, for me?” His eyes were pure evil, and you were more than happy to give in, even if you were tired. Really damn tired, but he wanted you, so you should give in right? You did give him a fright. “Take me away Diaz.”

If you’d noticed the signs earlier, maybe you could’ve gotten away. His jealousy, when it did rear its head, was an ugly shade of green.

A late night, again.

Eddie had been by the door for 10, sitting for 20, pacing the kitchen and stress-eating for another 10 before he finally settled into bed. Wide awake of course. The opening of his bedroom door caused him to stir. He watched as you slowly moved around, placing your stuff away, putting your phone on charge and then changing.

He sat upright as you yelped, “Eddie! You scared me, again! Why are you sitting in the dark?” His face was drained of warmth, skin cold to the touch. “Was waiting for you, again.” You frowned at his words, “Baby, you know I’m late these days. Better for you to go to sleep than wait up.” He shook his head, burying his head into your stomach as his body relaxed. Your hands raked through his hair gently, “I think you should consider working from home.”

Your hands stopped in their tracks, working from home? The last time you worked from home was during lockdown, and you’d driven yourself half mad. “Why is that?” Eddie glanced up at you, “You’re barely home, Chris misses you, I miss you. Don’t you want to be with us?” You took a deep breath in before smiling, “Of course I do. I- I’ll see what I can do baby.”

His hands quickly dragged you into bed, “Knew you’d understand amor.” Eddie rested his head in the crook of your neck, his hands slowly making their way underneath your shirt.

“Sweetie, I’m tried.”

“I missed you.” You relented, letting him continue. It seemed to be all you were doing these days, bending backwards and over to please him, literally.

The first time you noticed his behaviour was also when you realised you needed space. Not that he’d give it to you. A new coworker, Harry, had invited not only yourself, but your friend Aleya and Jack out to lunch.

He was a nice guy, very eager to learn and never scared by a little constructive criticism. The only problem was probably his overbearing cologne, very pungent? Intense?

You’d also been driven to work that day, courtesy of your boyfriend. You were working shorter days now, completing about an hour or two of work at home now. It had taken some adjusting, after a few forgetful days and about a million texts from Carla with an impatient Chris at home waiting for you.

You spotted Eddies truck pull up as you wrapped up your conversation with the your three lunch goers, “And that’s me, I’ll see you guys on Monday. Thank you so much for lunch!” You reached out to Aleya for a side hug, the same for Jack and a normal hug for Harry. “Tell Eddie there’ll be a fire at my house later tonight, and he better bring Evan!” Jack joked as you waved him off.

Jack may or may not have a huge crush on Evan.

You hopped in, quickly chucking your purse and files into the back seat before kissing Eddie on the cheek. “Hi! How was Chris’s school?” Eddie shrugged his shoulders, “Fine.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his shortness, “Something wrong?” He turned onto the highway, knuckles tightly gripping the wheel, “You smell like him.”

“Like who? Harry?”

“That his name?”

You rolled your eyes, “No, it’s actually his father’s, middle name Jesus. Care for some wine Eddie?” Not once, had Eddie ever been physical. But raising his voice? Oh that was fair game.

“You think you’re funny huh? Having lunch with other guys and taking the piss outta me?”

“Nothing happened baby, it was lunch. He’s new and trying to fit in and I’m being nice. There’s nothing to worry about I swear.” The silence permeated in the truck, causing the hair on your arms to raise. You hated the silent treatment wholeheartedly.

“Whatever.”

His change in demeanour could flip like a switch, you always assumed it was him putting up a front. But when Eddie showed up the next day, flowers in hand and looking his sharpest, you were forced to reevaluate. “God I wish my boyfriend was that sweet.” Your project partner whispered as you sighed, “That’s Eddie.”

Even your boss wanted you to go with him, “Take the day off sweetie, you deserve it.” And with a pat on the back and a million swooning interns drooling over Eddie, you were sent on your way.

“I got these for you Y/n/n.” Your favourite flowers, arranged perfectly and smelling divine. Your hands wrapped around the bouquet, “Thank you Eddie, they’re perfect.” His smile caused your heart to race, he looked amazing. The Eddie with you that day was incredible.

His infectious laughter, perfect smile and the sweet nothings he whispered into your ear. That, was the Eddie Diaz you knew and loved. A gentleman, who had eyes for only you. Which is why you couldn’t help but wonder, what made him change? How was it possible to go from absolutely furious and unnecessarily jealous to an angel?

You didn’t want to know, and you didn’t want to stay around long enough to find out.

Maybe it was the date, or the fact that you felt as if he deserved an explanation face to face. Either way, if you’d known better, you would have made it away.

“Eddie, we have to talk.” The two of you were currently sitting on the couch, favourite show playing in the background. Eddie hummed along, a slight acknowledgment to your words. “It’s, about us.” Eddie turned the volume down, your sentence piquing his interest.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think, we should break up.”

And with six words, Eddies entire world came crashing down in front of him. What on earth were you talking about? “What did you say?” The smile on Eddies face was anything but sweet or reassuring, a bad attempt at keeping his composure. “You’ve been acting, odd, to say the least.” You stood from the couch as he followed in pursuit, all the way to the kitchen.

“I feel like, all that we’re doing lately is either fighting or sleeping. Every time I come home, you have something to say. Whether it’s about my later nights, about who I was with or what I’m doing on the phone. It’s like I have no privacy at all. I cannot keep a single thing to myself. And if I try to? You blow up at me. I mean last week for example, I tried my hardest to not argue with you by walking away. And all you did was follow me around the house, it drove me crazy. Showing up to my workspace when I tell you I can get more done without random lunch dates. I’m a grown adult but you treat me like a child. And if I stand up for myself I’m cheating. It makes no sense at all Eddie. And I tried to make it work, but I feel like you’re controlling me. I even reduced my hours, because you asked. I moved in even when I wasn’t ready, because you asked. I need a break.” You took a deep breath after your monologue, needing a second.

Turning towards Eddie, he stared straight at you. “I had no idea you felt that way baby. I’m so sorry, I never meant to do any of it. I love you so much, I can’t help but worry. After everything we’ve been through with Shannon,” And there it was, the guilt. It was blinding, clawing its way through you. Shannon. He’d already lost someone he loved, and Chris lost his mother. No wonder he was always to protective over you.

“Hey, I’m not leaving like Shannon okay? What happened was a tragic accident, and I promise nothing like that is going to happen again Eddie.” You immediately engulfed in a hug, his head resting against yours, “I don’t want to loose you, I don’t want Chris to loose you.” Eddie muttered repeatedly as you closed your eyes.

Chris walked into the room, thirsty, tired and curious, “Is something wrong?” You immediately detached yourself from Eddie, wiping away your tears, “Nothings wrong sweetie, did you need something?” He nodded before turning around and walking to his room, “We’ll talk later yeah?” Eddie whispered into your ear before moving ahead.

Sniffles came from underneath Christopher’s blanket, “You alright buddy?” Eddie asked, patting his hair down, “Water.” You watched as Eddie swiftly made his way to the kitchen whilst you sat down, “You need anything else?” Chris’s hand slowly lowered the blanket before smiling your way, “No thanks mum.”

And as quickly as he spoke, he turned over to sleep again. Your eyes were probably protruding out of your head, shock filling your senses. “Mum?” The word sounded foreign on your lips, but apparently comfortable enough on Chris’s.

“He called you mum.” Eddies voice was low, most likely as astounded as you based on the look on his face. You got up slowly, aware of the sleeping boy. You couldn’t help but smile, and kiss his forehead before making your way to Eddie. “I can’t believe it.” Eddies hand came up to wipe away the stray tears before pulling you in and kissing your forehead, “I can.”

“You’re apart of this family baby, always have been.” His words seeped in as he guided you to your bed, whilst you were stuck on autopilot. Chris viewed you as a parent to him, that’s how common you were in his life now, a constant for him to fall back on. He loved you, almost as much as you loved him. Your words weren’t forgotten just swirling in your head, how the hell could you ask for a break now? With this new huge responsibility?

Eddie knew, of course he knew. He was the one encouraging Chris to call you by your new name. Because if there’s one thing Eddie knew he needed, besides Chris?

It’s you, and he’d do anything to make you stay.

[fluff-lover]

The one that got away (part 2) | Wolverine x fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend broke up with you. Luckily your neighbor and good friend Wade is there to cheer you up. And his good looking roommate is a bonus.

This is based on this Reddit story

Read part 1 HERE

Warning: mature language, Wade Wilson being a menace. Bad writing (please remember English is not my first language, so if you notice something odd please write to me privately).

Note: writing Wade is HARD! Also I couldn't find the owner of that gif, so if it's you let me know.

Tagging @aheadfullofsteverogers because she asked nicely :3

Your days got a little bit better after Ben took his things from your place. Even though you could afford rent on your own, you began to consider getting a roommate, just so you wouldn't be alone, but you weren't in a rush. Instead you focused on your work, your friends, and making your apartment feel like a home again.

You would hang out with Wade and Logan every now and then, when they weren't off somewhere fighting crime, or whatever it is that they do. It didn't take long for Mary Poppins to steal your heart and you offered Al to take care of her whenever they guys were gone. Having the little dog around made your day better: you took her on walks and bought her little outfits and snacks. This little lady was definitely living her best life.

Slow but surely, life started to feel less glum. You knew it would take you time to heal from Ben's betrayal, but you didn't lose faith in love. At night, when the loneliness reached its peak and you wanted nothing but to curl in your bed and cry, you'd remember Logan's words and take comfort in them. 

“You deserve a real man that knows he’s the luckiest motherfucking on this earth, and every other earth, for having you.”

After that day things seemed to shift. You were in no rush to get into another relationship, but there was something about Logan that pulled you in. He could be a real grump around Wade -to be fair, Wade loved pushing Logan's buttons- but you've seen him being sweet to Laura, polite to Blind Al, and even gentle with Mary Poppins. But most importantly, he was a gentleman with you. Always kind and considerate, he would pull out the chair for you, offer you a drink or food whenever you stopped by, wrap you in a blanket during movie nights, and so on. It was so nice to be taken care of, to know there were still good men out there -probably in another timeline, but still counted-.

On Friday evening there was a knock on your door and when you opened you found your favorite mercenary on the other side. 

“Hey Wade, what's up?”

Wade looked all giddy and bounced on his feet.

“I have a massive favor to ask you.”

You made a face.

“Oh-oh, why do I get a bad feeling about this?” you joked.

“Vanessa and I are going to the movies tonight and I need you to come with us.”

You blinked, confused.

“Alright… why? I'm not saying no, but I don't understand why you want me there. Wouldn't I just be getting between the two of you?”

Wade sighed dramatically.

“Believe me, the last thing I want to do is have a group hang out when I'm actually trying to get back together with her. I would rather stick needles under my fingernails. But we're taking things slow, it has to be casual, chill.” He shrugged.

“I thought she was dating someone new?”

“She was but I know from a good source that he ended things with her.” 

You looked at him suspiciously.

“And your source is…?”

Wade looked around awkwardly.

“Okay, alright, I'll admit it. I left a horse's head in the guy's bed with a 

note.”

“Jesus, Wade!” You groaned.

Wade’s eyes softened and looked at you defeated.

“What other option did I have? They’re doing a special screening of Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, and It’s her favorite!! Please? I don't want to do this alone. I would probably do or say the wrong thing, you know me!” He had a point there. 

You took pity on the poor guy, and you took pride in being a good friend. That being said, you could still have a little fun.

“What's in it for me?” You asked.

“Whatever you want! I can get Petter to give you a really good deal on a Honda Odyssey!”

You shook your head, laughing. 

“Endless tampon supply! I'll tattoo your face on my ass, anything you want!”

“Pass.” You said and Wade groaned. “Why don't you ask Logan?”

“I did, he said I could go fuck myself and that he doesn't want to be a third wheel. But he said he would come if you come too.”

That took you by surprise.

“He did?”

Wade hummed and nodded.

“Pleaseeeee?” He insisted, giving you puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.” You said defeated. “But you owe me.”

Wade drew a cross on his chest and smiled.

“A Deadpool always pays his debts.”

-

There are fates far worse than death…

… like chaperoning Deadpool on a date. 

Logan couldn’t believe what his life had come to be. Of course, his life on this earth was much better than the one he came from, people didn’t hate him, he was well respected. He was THE X-Men. All in all he should be happy.

But dear lord, Wade had a way to make every waking second psychological torture.

He hoped you would say no to Wade’s invitation, not because he didn’t want to see you, but because despite his tough exterior, the idea of going to the movies with his cute neighbor terrified him. He hadn’t been on a date since… he couldn’t remember when. And while he could tell there was chemistry between the two of you, he also knew that you were coming out of a long lasting relationship. Not to mention he didn’t think he was boyfriend material. He was the “worst” Wolverine after all.

So when Wade walked in with a massive smile on his face, hands rubbing together like some sort of evil genius, Logan knew he was fucked.

Dopinder drove you to the cinema, making a quick stop by Vanessa’s to pick her up.

The ride there was pretty joyful, you all tried to put Logan up to speed on Star Wars while he sat quietly on the passenger seat. Meanwhile Wade was sandwiched between you and Vanessa, but he didn’t seem to mind, if anything he liked it.

Once at the cinema, Wade and Logan went to get the tickets while you girls were on snack dutty.

“So…” Vanessa started when you two were alone. “You and Logan?”

“Me and Logan, what?” You asked.

“Wade told me he saw Logan leaving your apartment the other day, looking a bit… indecent.” she said with a wink that made you laugh.

“Wade surely likes to gossip!” You chuckled. “Nah, it wasn’t anything like that. He was there to scare Ben away…”

It felt really good to have a friend you could talk to about these things. You had been dying to tell someone about that evening with Logan. The way he felt protective about you, and how he tried to intimidate Ben.

You couldn’t help but giggle like little girls as you told her about the red lacy teddy he found, your face warming up as you did.

“He really did me a favor with Ben. He made me realize I can do better.” 

“Of course you can do much better than Ben.” Vanessa agreed. “And certain X-Men would be a great step up.” she added bumping shoulders with you.

“Oh please! There’s no way that’s happening. He is way out of my league.” You replied.

“Shut up, you can’t really believe that! He clearly likes you.” your friend insisted. “He scared your ex away, told you you deserved better, he even saw your lingerie and liked it!”

You felt your face getting even hotter.

“He was just being nice.” You mumbled.

Vanessa rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“You’re so blind.” 

“Yeah, I think his hotness melted my retinas.” You joked. “Seriously, he’s way too hot to be two centuries old.”

Meanwhile Wade and Logan were in line to get the tickets, and of course Wade couldn’t stop yapping.

“So, when are you asking Babycakes out on a proper date?” He asked and Logan just growled. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on! You obviously like her! And she likes you too. I don’t know why, you’re pretty grumpy. Must be those amazing abs…” Wade rambled. “Don’t pretend I didn’t see you doing the walk of shame the other day, you slut.”

Logan elbowed him. Hard.

“Nothing happened.”

“Nothing R rated, you mean, but something definitely happened.” Wade went on. “I can’t always be your wingman, you know? Tonight is the first step, but after tomorrow you have to start asking her out on your own.”

Logan frowned, confused.

“What the fuck are you going on about?”

“For fucks sake!” Wade said dramatically. “You really think I need you to hold my hand while I take Vanessa to the movies? Hell no! We dated for years, we were engaged at one point.”

“That’s it.” Logan said furious. “I’m leaving.”

“Wait! No! Come on!” Wade pleaded.

“You lied to me.” Logan snarled. “For some fucking reason I decided to do something nice, just once, for you when you asked for help, and this is what I get.”

“Exactly!” Wade said, completely missing the point. “You get to go on a little date with the cute neighbor you have a crush on.”

“I don’t have a crush.”

“Whatever you say, Wolvie. Now shush, they’re coming!” Wade said before turning to you and Vanessa as you approached them, arms full of candy and snacks.

“Everything okay?” Vanessa asked as she noticed Logan shooting daggers at Wade.

“Just peachy.” Logan growled.

-

Vanessa and Wade were sited a few rows ahead of you, giving you a clear view of them as the movie played. Vanessa looked ahead, and you could picture her reciting each line by heart. 

But Wade? He didn’t watch the movie, he watched her. Your heart melted as you saw your friend quietly -and not so quietly- pinning for this woman. It was like he was trying to memorize Vanessa’s face, every single part of it.

You sighed, wishing someone would look at you like that.

Surprisingly Logan seemed to have a good time. He hoarded a bag of Sour Patch, which you found fitting. Every once in a while your hands would touch as you both reached for some popcorn, and you felt so silly thinking there was a sparkle there, as if life was some sort of rom-com. But you just couldn’t help it. He was handsome, strong and mysterious, yet so kind to you.

“Why is the green puppet talking like that?” He asked at one point. You giggled.

“Yoda? Oh he’s just like that, he’s very wise tho.”

“Eh, he’s creeping me out.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, but suddenly stopped when a man in a row behind you rudely told you to shut up. You made yourself  small in your seat, until Logan turned to the man with an intimidating look.

“Don’t tell her to shut up. You shut up, you fucking asshole.” 

The man backed off, clearly afraid of him.

When Logan looked back at you, you were trying hard not to laugh. 

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“Never stop laughing, gorgeous.” He said before lifting his arm and placing it over your seat, around your shoulders. You smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.

A few rows ahead, Wade had a massive smile on his face.

“I cannot wait to be Wolvie’s best man at their wedding!”

-

Once the movie ended you and Logan joined Wade and Vanessa outside the movie theater. The two of them had a sickly sweet look on their faces and you could tell they were still very much in love despite having broken up.

“So, um…” for the first time ever, Wade Wilson didn’t know what to say.

“How about you walk Vanessa home?” Logan told him. 

Wade quickly got the hint. Vanessa simply smiled and took Wade by the hand.

“I’d like that.”

You said goodnight and parted ways. Once you were far away from them you turned to Logan.

“That was very sweet of you. Helping Wade like that.”

Logan shrugged.

“I guess I’m just tired of hearing him whine and complain about being heartbroken. I swear, if I have to hear Careless Whisper one more time…” He groaned.

“He really likes Wham!” You chuckled before grabbing him by the sleeve of his jacket and pulling him to a side. “Come on! We’re getting ice cream!”

Logan was a “mint and chocolate chips” kind of man, while you were all about the sugary toppins. Ben used to tease you about it, saying you ate like a child, but Logan didn’t seem to mind.

While enjoying the sweet treat, you walked aimlessly through the night, talking about anything and everything. You told him about your childhood, your family and your job. He told you about the X-Men, about wanting to get a new motorcycle, and his work at the TVA. You wanted to ask him a million questions, but you knew he was a private man, so you stayed far away from touchy subjects.

Eventually you made it to the building and Logan, being a perfect gentleman, walked you to your door.

“Tonight was fun!” You smiled.

“It was but don’t tell Wade, it will go straight to his head.” Logan said and you chuckled. He then cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, as if he was getting ready to say something important. “If it’s not too much to ask, I would like to do it again.” Then he rolled his eyes. “Minus the other two, of course. As lovely as Vanessa is, Wade can be…” he said annoyed.

You laughed.

“I know what you mean. I would like that too.” You saw Logan visibly relax and then smile. He had a beautiful smile, so much so it made your knees go weak. “So… it’s a date?” You asked with a teasing tone.

“It’s a date.” Logan said with a nod.

You felt giddy, like a teenager about to go to prom. Without even thinking you took a step closer. Loga’s mind seemed to go in the same direction as he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you even closer. He started leaning in, but suddenly stopped.

“I… I haven’t done this in a long time.” he confessed in a whisper, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“That’s the thing, gorgeous. I want to, I really do.”

You placed your hands on his forearms and slowly moved them up to his shoulders. 

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, then. Close your eyes.”

He did as you told him, and then you leaned up and pressed your lips gently against his. It was a simple and sweet kiss, but it was the right step towards something bigger.

Logan felt your lips curl into a smile against his. He could sense the scent of your shampoo coming off your hair. He felt your warm hands caressing his shoulders and neck. Your breath against his face, your heartbeat against his chest…

And it feels like home…

That little kiss turned into another, and then another, and then mutated into something deeper, more passionate.

Logan’s hands felt huge on you, one palm covering most of your waist, the other moving up to the back of your head, pulling your hair sensually.

You were about to let out the filthiest, nastiest moan when you heard a door open and your name being called.

You and Logan pulled apart and turned to your door. There, standing inside your apartment, was your ex-boyfriend, Ben.

---

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Of toppings and fillings

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 19

Prompt: Dessert

Rated: M

Tags: Established relationship; Idiots in love; Competitive idiots, to be more specific; Sexually explicit language; Sexual innuendo; Eddie is a little shit

It starts out innocently enough. Steve is lounging on the couch, Eddie sprawled on top of him. On the television, some home-making show is running, but Steve has dropped into a pleasant doze and isn't really paying attention. 

Until Eddie says, “Man, I could go for some of that right now.” 

Steve blinks at the screen.

“And there it is,” chirps the host. “Crispy meringue with that juicy filling underneath, which is the perfect mix of sweet and tart. With this delicious dessert, your family will-” 

Steve huffs. “It probably isn't half as good as my nonna's recipe. Her pies were the best.”

“Hah!” Eddie exclaims, propping himself up and ignoring the pained groan when his elbows dig into Steve’s ribs. “That only shows you never tried my granny’s baking.”

“Ugh, get off me,” Steve wheezes. He tries to shove Eddie away, only he’ll have none of it, and within seconds, things escalate into a full-on wrestling match. “Are you trying to insult my nonna’s baking?” 

“My granny’s baking,” Eddie purrs, pinning Steve’s wrists over his head. His breath fans over Steve's face, soft and warm. “Would fuck your nonna’s baking against the kitchen counter like a little bitch, and your nonna’s baking would enjoy it.” 

Steve sputters. Eddie smirks. 

Steve feels his teeth grit. 

“Oh yeah?” Prove it, Munson.” 

*

“Okay,” says Robin. “Walk me through this again. He shit-talked your nonna, so you made a bet on whose recipe was better? You’re supposed to whisk it, dingus.” 

Steve groans. His wrist is hurting. There’s dough stuck in his hair. “Yes, Robin, for the fifth time. Why is that so hard to understand?”

“Why is it so hard to understand the difference between whisking and stirring?” she snaps, making to snatch the bowl from his hands.

“Hey,” Dustin bellows. He’s standing next to Eddie, who is furiously attacking his own bowl with the hand mixer, bits of filling spraying in all directions. “No cheating, he’s supposed to do it alone.”

“Cut him some slack, Henderson,” Eddie says, tossing a grin in Steve’s direction. “It’s hard, getting a proper filling all on your own.” 

Robin slouches back against the counter, hiding her scowl behind nonna’s cookbook.

“It seems a bit excessive is all I'm saying. You could’ve bet for money, like normal people? How am I ever supposed to eat anything from your kitchen again, knowing that you’ve been on your knees in here, scrubbing dough off the floor, clad in nothing but a frilly apron, have you thought about that? It’s unhygienic, Steve!” 

“Jesus, shut up,” Steve hisses, throwing a frantic look at Dustin. Luckily, he’s busy shouting at Eddie about tempering the eggs, whatever that means. “And for the record, I’m not losing this. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was ten years old, while Eddie … I’ve seen him burn SphaghettiOs, Rob. There’s no way!” 

“Cooking is different from baking, though,” she says. “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. Say, is it supposed to look like scrambled eggs?” 

“Whoops,” Eddie says, knocking a bag of flour off the counter with his elbow. “Leave it, Henderson. I’m sure Steve won’t mind cleaning it up later.” 

Steve growls, throwing his whisk down so hard it bounces off the counter and hits the nearest wall.

“C’mon, let’s get this thing in the oven.” 

*

“Esteemed jury,” Eddie declares, setting his pie down next to Steve’s. “This is it, the moment of truth. Two pies have entered into this contest, but only one shall emerge victorious, forever determining who-” 

“Quit it,” Steve says. “Or are you scared to admit defeat? Your topping is as flat as your ass.”

He nods down at their creations. The perfect golden tufts of meringue crowning his own, and the unimpressive, brown crust on Eddie’s.

Eddie grins. “Why don’t you leave your verdict on my topping skills for later, big boy?” 

The kids, who’ve been following the exchange with swiveling heads, frown. 

“Are you still talking about pie?” El asks. “It doesn’t seem like you’re still talking about-”

Robin sighs. “Just cut them and get this over with.” 

Steve nods, grabbing one of the knives from her hand while Eddie takes the second. 

“Look at this and weep, Munson,” he says, cutting a slice and lifting it out of the pan for everyone to see. “Perfect, homemade lemon meringue pie. Crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, just as it should-” 

The topping slides off. A chorus of ooofs goes through the spectators.

“Erm, that’s okay,” Steve says. “I’m sure it still tastes fine, it's just-” 

The filling dissolves into a puddle. It lands next to the soggy pile of topping with a wet squelch. The ooofs turn into eeews. Robin cringes. 

“Yeah, no offense, dingus, but I’m not eating that. Gives me icky mouth feels just looking at it.” 

It’s Will’s voice that makes them both turn around.

“Oh, wow! That looks delicious, Eddie!” 

“Thank you,” Eddie says as the kids scramble to hold their plates out to him. With a large smile in Steve’s direction, he hands a particularly large slice to Will. A perfectly shaped slice of bright yellow pie with a beautiful, firm topping of meringue on top. It’s snowy white under the brown crust. 

Steve drops the knife. 

“But I don’t- …” he mutters, sinking down into a chair with wobbly legs. “How did you- … You don’t even know how to cook!” 

“I don’t,” Eddie smiles indulgently, sliding him a plate. “But I’ve been watching my granny bake since I was tall enough to peep over the counter.”

He presses a fork into Steve’s hand and a kiss to his cheek, patting his shoulder as he saunters off towards the kitchen. 

“Enjoy your pie, sweetheart. I’ll get the cleaning supplies from the closet. The apron, too.” 

Steve gulps around his first bite of pie. 

More holiday drabbles

Looks like his nonna’s baking isn't the only thing that's gonna get fucked.

[eddieandbird]

Irresponsible—

Your neighbor, Eddie, introduces you to his cat.

tags/warnings: fluff | 1.4k words | genderless reader | cat/pet mention

———

With a flick of your keys in the ignition, you switch off your car, continuing to hum the song that was recently played on the radio. You got out, then shut the car door with your hip. You were going to head inside the house, but your steps were halted by the sound of a high-pitched whistle.

“Hey, kid!” A low voice called out to you from across the street.

Eddie stood there in his driveway leaning up against his van. He slowly waved and clapped his hands together as he pushed himself off the van door.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” His head gestured toward his trailer, beckoning you to come over.

You raised a brow and then approached him, your arms folded across your chest. You had been Eddie’s neighbor for a couple of years and you’d hardly said a thing to each other, even in the hallway at school.

“Yeah, sure. What’s up, Munson?” You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Is that orange cat yours?” Eddie pointed back to your porch.

Sure enough there your cat was, stretched out and laying on the front steps. You pouted at the little guy, thinking he looked so sweet taking in the warmth of the late afternoon sun.

“Oh yeah, that’s Arthur,” You chuckled. “Why?”

“I got something you might wanna see,”

You followed Eddie up to the trailer door and waited at the bottom step. He quickly dipped inside and returned with a cat in his arms, its body mostly tucked into his denim vest.

“This little girl is Scarlet,” He smiled wryly as he showed her off.

“Hi Scarlet,” You gasped softly as you leaned in to pet her head. You could feel your heart melting as you looked at her, the black ball of fluff she was with two giant green eyes peering from out of the fur. Eddie chuckled as he watched you interact with Scarlet, her tail flicking happily from the attention. He hadn’t seen her be this responsive in a couple of days, but he chopped it up to her seeing someone other than him and Wayne.

“She’s a real sweetheart,” he murmured, giving her head scratches. The cat glanced at you with big curious eyes then returned to her owner.

“She looks like trouble,”

“More like a headache,” Eddie smirked. “She keeps me up at night, I tell ya.”

“Yeah, Arthur is quite the menace too. As you can see, he prefers patrolling the house rather than staying inside in his comfy cat bed I spent way too much money on,” You shook your head, pointing back to him with your thumb.

“Yeah about that…” Eddie’s words were hesitant and elongated. “That’s actually why I wanted you to meet Scarlet. She likes wandering outside a lot too, but recently I noticed she’s been all weird and clinging to my side and well-”

Eddie held Scarlet up before him, letting her feet dangle underneath her. The position of the animal revealed that she wasn’t simply abnormally fluffy as you thought, but her belly was also extended.

“Oh, no fucking way,” Your voice was strained with shock.

Eddie awkwardly nodded, his gaze shifting between you and Scarlet. He gently pushed her belly to show how just round it was. You pinched the bridge of your nose in response.

“Yep,” He beamed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “She’s pregnant.” He then shifted her in his arms so she could lay back down comfortably.

“She hasn’t been eating as much lately either,” he went on. “I think she’s due any day now.”

“Jesus Christ,” You scoffed, shaking your head.

Your head whipped back to glare at your cat who was peacefully snoozing away, his head resting on the stair railing. It was ridiculous to be annoyed with him for this, but you found yourself a bit disgruntled anyway.

“Arthur, you slut!” You yelled as if he was able to feel shame. You sighed after your fit of laughter died down. “Listen, I really apologize for my irresponsible cat,”

A light flush dusted your cheeks as you held them in shock and horror. You knew this was a thing that all animals did, but you still could not believe that this had happened to you and a neighbor. Eddie smirked at your flustered state, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Hey, it takes two, you know,” he lifted Scarlet to his face and kissed the top of her head.

“It’s not just your cat that’s an irresponsible dumbass.”

He set Scarlet back down on the ground and she quickly sauntered over to rub against your legs, purring softly. You crouched down to run your fingers through her dark hair, a wry smile playing on your lips.

“What are we going to do, Scarlet, huh? We can’t have a dozen mini black and orange devils running around here. You guys will take over the whole trailer park,” You babbled, sighing when you felt her rubbing up against your calf.

“We can’t keep them all, right?” You asked him with a suspicious squint. You needed him to agree with you.

Eddie seemed like a guy with a good head on his shoulders, but you also knew he had a reputation for creating trouble himself. It was almost concerning how many times you would peek out your front window and see him stomping out a fire or falling off of his roof.

To your relief, Eddie gave a disapproving look, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

“Hell no, we can’t keep them all,” he declared.

He leaned back against the wall of the trailer, rocking his cat back and forth.

“As much as I love my little demon-” He began with a huff. “The idea of having a bunch of kittens running around? Sounds like a nightmare. That’s way too much chaos, even for me.”

He scratched the back of his neck. It was as if Scarlet knew she was being talked about as she trotted her way back inside the trailer.

“You got that right. We barely have a grip on the cats we have now,” You zoned out for a moment, picturing the scene and shivering at the thought. “I guess we gotta figure out what to do with the kittens before Scarlet pops. What do people even do when their cats are pregnant?”

Eddie shrugged, his mind suddenly blank.

“Dunno,” he said, then gave himself a small whack to the head. “I knew I should’ve picked up a book from the vet or something. All I’ve done is feed her extra and give her extra cuddles.”

He frowned, clearly frustrated. You found it kind of endearing that he joined you in your turmoil. The situation was as humorous as it was vexing.

“What about you, kid?” He raised a curious brow. “Any suggestions?”

You shrugged back, a frown creeping up on your mouth. “Well first, I’m taking Arthur to get fixed. I had no idea he wasn’t. He was a stray I took in at my last place,”

Guilt fell heavy on your mind as you recalled lying to your parents about where you actually found Arthur. You had told them it was given to you by an old friend, but really you found him sniffing around some dumpsters at the mall.

“Maybe we can ask around town if anyone is interested in newborn kittens?” You looked up at him, scratching your forehead.

Eddie nodded along as you spoke, mulling over the idea of giving away the kittens. He had a soft spot for animals but knew that keeping them all just wasn’t an option.

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “Let’s put up some flyers or something. See if we can find good homes for them.”

“Sounds good to me,” You nodded.

“Awesome. I’ll grab some supplies tomorrow. You wanna come over and make the flyers with me?” Eddie asked, looking hopeful with his wide eyes and raised brows.

Your mouth hung open in shock for a second. “Yeah? Yeah. Tomorrow. I’ll definitely stop by,”

Your voice was breathy, sounding completely foreign to you. You cleared your throat. Eddie perked up at your agreement, a boyish grin slowly spreading across his face.

“Cool,” he said in a tone that tried to mask his excitement. “Just come over whenever. I’m pretty much free all day after school.”

He tilted his head, observing you closely. Your sudden change in demeanor didn’t go unnoticed, but he chose not to comment on it. Instead, he smiled slyly.

“Looking forward to it, kid.”

“Me too,”

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Dating Barty Crouch Jr ◼ HEADCANONS

Requested: No

Characters: Barty Crouch Jr. (+ y/n)

Warnings: NSFW mentions, English is not my first language

A/N: Oh my sweet Barty. I think I'll write a one-shot based on these headcanons one day. This will include also the pre-dating stage as well. SORRY FOR THE TYPOS. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Enjoy! ^^

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

At first you guys were great friends, but you secretly had a crush on his best friend Evan, who you were also great friend with

And, unbeknownst to you, Barty had been in love with you for years

But after his best friend somehow broke your heart, Barty was there for you

He would discreetly hold you hand or have an affectionate gesture when Evan and his girlfriend would be there together, and also in public 

He would spent most of his time with you - as Evan has now become insufferable - doing homework, studying, reading or just talking

Every time he goes to Hogsmeade he brings back your favourite sweets or a gift

The more time you guys spend together, the closer you grow, and you realise Barty is even more awesome than you thought he was 

He truly is the kindest, and sweetest boy ever 

Little by little, you’re less affected by Evan’s relationship thanks to Barty’s presence and support

You know he has a difficult relationship with his father, so during holidays, you accept to spend half of the holidays at his house, and the rest at your horse

And you constantly tell him that it’s not his fault that his father acts like that

He gets along so well with your parents, they adore him and basically ship you guys 

That’s when he stays at your house that you first share a bed, and sleep while holding each other

And, without you realising it, it happens every night after

You also start to cuddle in the morning, and after class 

He gives you nicknames, like “sweetheart” or “love” 

And sometimes put his arms around you

Once you’ve completely forgotten about Evan, you wonder why you didn’t realise that Barty was right here the whole time 

You realise one day that Barty is now the most important person in your life

One day, you get drunk at a party and accidentally kiss him, and, despite not wanting to take advantage of you, Barty can’t help but kiss you back

The day after, Barty thinks you don’t remember the kiss, but you do. You’re embarrassed about it, but you soon realise the kiss was an expression of your growing feelings for him

But the difference is, you loved an idea of Evan, while you love Barty for who he is

But after a while, when Evan breaks up with his girlfriend, he tries to get closer to you, but you put boundaries 

But while you know you love Barty, you can’t help but be scared he won’t return your feelings and you’ll end up hurt again

BUT when Evan confronts you and Barty about what’s going on between the two of you, an argument between them follows, and Barty ends up screaming that he loves you

Once Evan leaves, you tell Barty you love him too and he kisses you - telling you he’s been craving to kiss you again 

You guys naturally start dating afterwards, and the first night together is spent kissing, cuddling and enjoying each other’s embrace

Everyone is surprised to learn you two are a couple - Evan more than the others, and he’s actually pissed - but they’re happy for you

Barty is the cutest boyfriend ever, like a labrador 

Totally fine with PDA, will always hold your hands or have an arm around your shoulder 

Overprotective 

He’s always kissing your cheek

Tries to make you laugh during lessons - succeeds most times

Will go anywhere and do any activity with you

Sex with him is a bit rough but still very romantic 

He loves praising you ( “Fuck, baby, you feel so good. So, so good”) - and has a praising kink

He LOVES fingering you

Jealous sex doesn’t really exist, but he will keep you up all night if he gets jealous

His aftercare is cuddling, kissing your temple while praising you, and a bath most of the time

Sex means a lot to him, and he’s so thankful you trust him enough to let him share that with you

Loves to shower with you - and most of the time it doesn’t even end up with sex 

Can’t start/finish his day without kissing you and telling you he loves you

He absolutely loves to sleep in your arms, with his head on your chest or belly and his arms around you

He also loves to put his head on your lap 

Deep down he’s very insecure, and is afraid you will leave for someone better 

Gets depressed when you’re mad at him

Gives you the best gifts on your birthdays, anniversaries, or Christmas 

Since his father probably works on Christmas day, you invite him and his mother to your hose to celebrate it, and it’s the best Christmas ever

He loves how you get along with her 

Won’t probably join the Death Eaters because he doesn’t want to disappoint you, and doesn’t want to put you in danger

But if he does, he’ll do everything he can to hide it from you - and screams your name while in prison

Want to be tagged? Just use my Ask-Box!

Masterlist

Next projects

[bteezxyewriter12]

Play with Me

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 3.6k

Includes- Interrupted masterbation, masturbation, brief blow job, pussy eating, cum eating, voyeurism (Boys listen to them through door), missionary, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

Yoongi POV

“Fuck, yeah”, I moan, sitting in my computer chair

I stare at the picture on my phone, while my hand moves up and down on my cock

The picture is one of the pictures Joanne posted on her Instagram

She’s so fucking hot and beautiful

I’ve wanted her since I first saw her five years ago

She’s BTS’ makeup artist and she became one of our best friends

It doesn’t help that she’s downstairs somewhere

The clothes she’s wearing today, fuck

She doesn’t normally dress that way

I love any kind of clothes she wears

But today…

She’s wearing skin tight skinny jeans and a fucking tight crop top

Her gorgeous stomach is all on display with her tattoos and fucking sexy as hell belly button piercing

Her beautiful cleavage is all out because of the v-neck style of her shirt

Her ass is fucking perfect in those pants

I’d usually be downstairs, just drooling over her but I couldn’t take it

I had a hard on since she walked in two hours ago

I just had to leave and jerk off or I was going to die

It’s not just sex

I really like her a lot too

I mean she’s nice, sweet and hilarious

Fucking gorgeous

She makes me laugh all the time

Her personality is amazing

I fell for her a long time ago

“God fuck Joanne”, I moan as I continue to stroke myself

Fuck, I wish it was her doing it

But I’m too fucking nervous around her

I can’t even talk to her that much before I shut down

I don’t know what I’d do if I had the chance to be with her

No, I take that back

I’d probably fuck it up

“Joanne, baby, I love when you fuck me”, I groan as I get closer to coming

After this, I’m gonna go back downstairs

And probably get hard again

“Joanne, Joanne, Joanne”, I whimper moving my hand faster, my eyes burning though the picture on my phone

“Yoongi?”, I hear a voice by the door.

I stop in horror

No no no

Why didn’t I lock the door?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Yoongi?”, she calls again

I don’t want to turn to her

I want to go back to five minutes ago where my dumbass makes sure the door is locked

Slowly I turn to her, terrified to look at her

I manage to look up at her and I’m surprised that I don’t see disgust in her face

I see curiosity and…

Want?

What?

She comes inside my room and locks the door

Uh what?

What’s she doing?

“Were you jerking off to me?”, she smirks

I swallow hard and nod

Jesus, I can’t even talk to her

Pathetic

“Really? Do you do it all the time?”

I nod

Why does she want to know?

“It’s ok Yoongi”

It is?

“I touch myself thinking about you all the time”

My mouth drops open

What?

WHAT?

“Yyy..Yyyy”, I stutter

Fuck, get it together Yoongi

“Yyyyou do?”

“Yeah Yoongi. You’re so fucking sexy, why wouldn’t I think about you?”

I have no words

I’m completely blown away

I don’t know what to say

She walks closer to my bed

“I’ve been wanting to play with myself since I got here and saw you.”

She’s gonna make my head explode

I can’t believe she’s saying these things to me

“I saw you, so you can watch me if you want. I’ll show you what thinking about you does to me. If you want?”

“Yes”, I answer with no hesitation

Watch her touch herself to me?

Hell yes

She smiles and takes her shirt off

Oh my god

Her body is fucking gorgeous

She has more tattoos on her ribs

She’s wearing a red lacy see through bra and it looks amazing on her body

It’s barely holding in her large breasts

She unbuttons and unzips her jeans

She wiggles out of them saying, “Sorry I look stupid but these things are so damn tight”

Is she kidding?

“You dddd..don’t look stupid”, I manage to get out

She’s wearing a matching pantie lacy thing and I get so much harder

“Fuck Yoongi, your cock is so hard”, she says biting her lip, “It’s so fucking big”

Jesus, she’s trying to kill me

She’s still staring at my cock and she licks her lips

Fuck

I just want to throw her on the bed and fuck her hard

But I’m too scared to

She takes her bra off and I know my eyes bug out seeing her breasts

I just want to touch them

And lick them

And suck on them

Then she pulls her panties off

My eyes widen

Her body is perfect

Just perfect

I can’t handle it

“Do you like my clothes I’m wearing today? They were just for you”

“Ttttt.”

God, I have to fucking stop stuttering

How she makes me a stuttering mess is crazy

“They are?”

She nods

Fuck, she was trying to get me riled up- and it worked

“I thought they’d get you to finally notice me”, she says

Finally?

I’ve noticed her since the second she walked into our make up room at BigHit

She crawls to the middle of my bed and lays back on my pillows

I’m so fucking turned on, it’s insane

When she opens her legs, I almost fall off the chair

I don’t know how someone’s pussy can be beautiful but hers is

And she’s so fucking wet

“Thinking of you makes me this wet. All the time”, she murmurs

I let a moan slip out

“Fuck, even your moans are sexy”, she whimpers

I watch her move her hand to her pussy and start touching herself

God, how can I last watching this?

I’m ready to cum right now

When she moans, I fucking lose it

I have to stop myself from taking her right now

She moves her hand down and puts two of her fingers inside her pussy

“Mmmm Yoongi”, she moans

My mouth drops open

I don’t know what to do

Her fingers moved in and out

She brings her other hand to her clit and starts rubbing it in circles

“Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi.”, she cries, her head going back on the pillows, eyes closed

This is fucking amazing

I’m extremely happy that she does this to thoughts of me all the time

“Fuck me Yoongi. I want your tongue on me. Fuck”

Oh god

I want to put my tongue on her too

I’ve been wanting to eat her out for the longest time

“Yoongi, I want you to fuck me with your huge cock. Please Yoongi”, she moans, moving her hands faster

She’s breathing hard, sweating, small moans and noises coming from her mouth

She takes her fingers out of her, still playing with her clit

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”, she yells, back arching off the bed as she cums

I watch her cum run down her and fall on my bed

Jesus, that’s fucking hot

She keeps rubbing herself, yelling my name again, another orgasm taking over her

I can’t take it anymore

I want her

Now

She’s still playing with herself as I stand

I move on the bed, pull her to me by her legs and run my tongue on her pussy

Fuck

She tastes so fucking good

“Yoongi!”, she moans

“God, you taste amazing. I want to eat you out so much. Can I?”, I ask

She nods, “Yes, yes, Yoongi. You can do whatever you want to me”

Yes

She’s saying everything I ever wanted her to say

“But first”, she pushes me back, “You need to be naked too.”

She pulls my shirt off

“Fuck Yoongi, your body is so beautiful. So goddamn sexy.”, she gasps looking at me

I feel myself blush

No one’s ever told me that

I don’t have abs or a body like Jimin or Jungkook

But hearing her say that about me makes me extremely happy

“Take your pants off”

I immediately stand and take them off the rest of the way

Before I can get back on the bed, she's at the edge of the bed and putting her mouth on my cock

“Fuck”, I yell

She puts all of me in her and starts moving her head back and forth

I feel her tongue running all over me as she sucks

Fuck it feels incredible

I’ve never had a blow job like this

It’s never been so…phenomenal

She knows what she’s doing

She moans

She fucking moans while she’s blowing me

She likes it and is making noises like she’s tasting something amazing

That turns me on so much more

That she loves how my cock tastes

I can cum right now but I don’t want to

I want to eat her out, then fuck her so hard

Gently I move her back and off me, pushing her on her back as I kneel on the floor

I pull her legs, bringing her closer to me, putting her legs on my shoulder

I’m so excited to do this I’ve wanted this so much, for so long

My tongue runs up her pussy and I start sucking on her clit

“Yoongi! God!”, she cries

I noticed that she kept playing with her clit the whole time, so I know that’s a place she loves

I let go and lick her clit over and over

Then I move my tongue and lick up her pussy before sucking on her clit again

“Jesus Yoongi, your tongue is better than I ever imagined”

I smirk

I’m happy she’s enjoying it

I’ve never done this before

I usually just fuck the girl and that’s it

But honestly, she tastes so good and I love doing this to her

I glance up and see her watching me suck her clit

I smirk at her without letting her go and she moans

I love hearing her sounds

I use the tip of my tongue and flick her clit over and over

“Yoongi, oh shit, Yoongi”

Her hand slides in my hair

“Pull”, I command

She pulls my hair and it feels so good

I’m so turned on, anything she does to me feels good

From her breathing and moans I know she’s close

Then someone knocks on my door

“Yoongi?”, Hobi calls

I roll my eyes but don’t stop

I want her to cum

I need to taste it

I need to

“Yoongi? What are you doing? Why are you gone so long? And where’s Joanne?”, Namjoon asks

“Go away”, I yell, then lick her again

“Yoongi”, she cries

“What? Why? What are you doing?”, Jimin asks

Jesus are they all outside my room?

“D…Dddon’t…..stop”, she begs

“I won’t”, I answer quickly, then continue

“What are you doing?”, Jungkook yells

“Eating, go away!”, I shout

“Yoongi….Yoongi”, she moans

“Yeah baby, come on. I want it”, I groan

“What are you eating? All the food is downstairs”, Jin asks

“Cum Joanne. I want to taste it.”

“Yoongi fuck yes Yoongi!”, she screams, coming in my mouth

Holy mother of god, she tastes absolutely incredible

“Oh my god he’s eating out Joanne!”, Tae yells

“More Yoongi. More!”, she screams

I nod and continue to use my tongue on her pussy

Good that she wants more because I’m not stopping

“Ssss..she likes it!”, Jimin says

God, they’re so annoying

Can’t they just leave?

I want to yell at them but I don’t want to take my mouth off her

“I love it”, she yells, “Now go away! We’re not cccc…fuck Yoongi yes….coming out for a long time.”

I laugh against her and she shakes a little

“Fuck Yoongi, that feels good”

“They’re not coming out”, Namjoon repeats

She rolls her eyes, “Yoongi and I are going to fuck each other and be very loud. Go away!”

She’s fucking amazing and I laugh again

“Mmmm Yoongi”, she pulls my hair

“Let’s go. I don’t want to hear this.”, Jin says

I hear their footsteps as they walk away

Finally

I close my lips on her clit again

I suck, then let go, then suck again, then let go

“Yes Yoongi. Don’t stop! Don’t!”

I keep doing it, sucking then letting go

After a few more times, she snaps her hips up putting her pussy more in my mouth and screams while she cums

“Mmmmm”, I moan from how good she is

I slide my tongue inside her, licking her

She shakes and cums again, all over my tongue

It turns me on so much

I love how she tastes

She’s actually my new favorite thing to eat

I can do this all day

“Yoongi!”, she cries, “I want your huge cock in me. Give it to me. I want it. I want you”

Fuck, she wants it I’m giving it to her

I love hearing how much she wants me

Just as much as I always wanted her

I really love that she feels the same way

I get up and climb on the bed

She moves back so I have room

I grab her legs and hold them open

I rub her pussy with my cock and tease her, “You want it Jo? You want me inside you?”

“Yes Yoongi. Yes. Don’t you want to be inside me too?”, she asks, looking at me her eyes big and looking innocent - yeah right

“Yeah Jo. I want nothing more than to be inside you.”, I answer

“Then do it Yoongi. I want you so much.”

God I want her so much too

I slide my cock inside her, yelling from how good, how tight she feels

“Oh my God, oh my god!”, I shout

“Yoongi, ahhh, Yoongi”, she yells

“Jesus Jo. You’re so fucking tight and wet. You feel amazing!”, I praise her

She just makes moaning noises I love

I move back and thrust back in

“Fuck!”, I yell

I can cum right now, this second

I don’t know how I’m going to fuck her for long

It just feels so…..goddamn fantastic

No other girl I’ve been with felt like she does

No other girl has been so fucking tight

I love being in her pussy

I move again, faster, pounding into her, forcing myself not to cum yet

Making her scream and yell

“Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi. I love your cock. I love you fucking me”

I groan and keep moving

I can’t stop

I don’t want to

“Shit baby, your pussy was made for me”, I cry as I slam into her again and again

“It’s all yours Yoongi. Whenever you want. It’s yours”, she shouts

Yes, yes, yes

I want it

I want her to be mine, want to be the only one she fucks

I want her to be the only one who fucks me, want to be hers too

“My cock is yours Jo. My tongue is yours. Anytime you want them, you can have them. They’re only for you. No one else”, I blurt out

“Yoongi, god”

I thrust inside her and when I hit her spot, she screams so loudly

I love hearing her

It gets me off

“Harder Yoongi. Fuck me harder”, she yells

I nod and slam harder into her making sure I hit that place again

Another scream

Another slam makes her let out another scream

I thrust again and she screams my name, her pussy clamping on my cock, body shaking as she cums

Holy shit, the pleasure from her coming is unbelievable

The way she’s pulling on me is insane

I want to cum but I want to make her cum more

I love the way it feels

Every thrust keeps hitting her in that spot and within a few seconds she cums again

And it feels like heaven

More slamming causes another orgasm

And another and another

We’re both sweating so much but I don’t care

I’m so lost in her and I don’t want it to end

I pound in again and her back comes off the bed causing her to thrust her hips at the same time as me

She takes all of me so deep inside, I yell loudly

“YOONGI!”, she screams, releasing all over me and I can’t fucking take it anymore

Ecstacy floods my body and I cum so hard, deep inside her

I never came this hard before and it’s never felt so fucking incredible

“Yoongi, Yoongi”, she whispers my name over and over

I love hearing my name coming from her mouth

I want her to hold me just as much as I want to hold her

Just pull her closer to me and stay with her

I lay down next to her and she automatically turns to me, snuggling into me

And my arms automatically go around her and hold her close

I’m trying to breathe normally as thoughts race through my mind

I don’t want her to leave

I don’t want things to go back the way they were

I want her

I want her to smile her gorgeous smile at me, laugh when I say something funny, hug and kiss me all the time, tell me she loves me, hold her hand, just be with me

Fuck

Realization hits me right in my chest

I love her

I always said I didn'twant to love someone, it’d hurt too much when they eventually leave because of my career

I don’t know how or when, but I fell in love with her

Damn it

I know that she thinks I’m hot and sexy and that she wants sex from me

I don’t think she likes me like that at all

Definitely not love

I don’t know what to do

I want her so much, but I’m so scared to say anything

She puts one arm around my body, “Yoongi, I love being with you”, she sighs, “Even just laying here with you is amazing. Don’t let go”

I tighten my grip on her while my mind is screaming at me

’Tell her’

’Don’t let her get away from you’

’She wants you like you want her’

’Ask her to be yours’

’NOW’

“Uh Joanne, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah Yoongi.”, she answers

“Do you uh, wanna, uh….”, I trail off

“Yes”

My eyes shoot down to her and she’s looking up at me, smiling

God her smile is going to kill me one day

“Whatever it is, yes.”

“Uhh…”

She giggles and it’s the cutest thing in the world

“Just ask Yoongi”, she reaches up and strokes the side of my face

I close my eyes against her touch

I love the feeling

Force my eyes open, I ask, “Joanne, do you want to be with me? Like be my girlfriend?”

I’m so scared of her answer

“Yes Yoongi. A million times yes. I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been waiting for you for years.”, she responds

Years?

She’s wanted me for years too?

“Really?”, I ask

“Yeah Yoongi. I fell for you so long ago. You had such a bad boy image when I first met you and honestly in the beginning I just wanted to fuck you. My type of guy is more like Hobi. Hilarious, outgoing, silly.”

Hobi?

She liked Hobi?

She wants someone like Hobi?

“You weren’t like that but there was something about you. And after getting to know you, you’re everything Hobi is and more. You’re everything I could ever want”

I smile at that

“I’ve been waiting for you to notice me. I figured you would never because of all the beautiful idols you’re around all the time. Why would you want me, when you could have them?”

“I don’t want them”, I assure her, “I want you. I only ever wanted you from the first day I saw you. Yeah I just wanted sex first like you, but once I got to know you, I wanted you. And I still do.”

“Good because I want you too.”, she smiles

I smile back at her

“I love your smile Yoongi. It’s one of my favorite things about you. It’s so beautiful.”

My smile is nothing compared to hers

“Joanne…I love you. I love you so much you have no idea. I’m crazy in love with you. It’s always been you”, I blurt

Shit shit shit

I sound like such a pathetic idiot

“I love you too Yoongi. So much. I’m so in love with you, it’s ridiculous. You’re all that’s on my mind, all the time. It’s always been you too Yoongi. Always.”, she admits

I feel my face break into a huge smile as I lean to her lips and kiss her for the first time

Holy fuck

Fucking stars burst in my vision from her kiss

I absolutely love it

She puts her arms around my neck and kisses me back

When the kiss ends, she asks shyly, “Can we take a little nap? Sleeping in your arms has been one of the things I want to do the most with you.”

“I’d want nothing more than to take a nap with you Jo. It’s something I’ve wanted to do too, for a long time.”

She kisses me again and snuggles into me more

“I love you Yoongi”, she says

“I love you Joanne.”

I hold her close to me, her head on my chest, arms around her

I run my fingers through her soft hair, listening to her breath as she falls asleep

“I love you”, I whisper to her

Even though she’s sleeping, her arms squeeze me closer

I kiss her head, then close my eyes and fall asleep

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - V.2 - P.1

Characters: demon brothers, fem!MC and flirty! fem! NES (MC x NES)

Main Masterlist

Replaced MC AU/AU Masterlist (check the other versions and learn more about the NESs!)

Intro (gn!reader)

CW: rejection, abandonment, women flirt hard from my experience but this is mild i think, suggestive but also mild, lession 16 mentioned, MC is not stupid and deserves to vent, no comfort in this one folks, my favouritism is showing

A/N: Jesus Christ guys. On another note, for those who couldn't be tagged: please check if you can fix the problem! I don't mind sending you a private message, but it's easier this way :)

.

It was a surprise for Lucifer, somehow, seeing someone like MC so content with someone like NES. When one smiled, the other frowned; sweet and spicy; beauty and brawn. The brothers had naively thought having MC share her room was bound to cause problems, but how wrong they were.

Four months into the second year of the program, the two girls had already merged their closets, creating a unique style with their combined clothing. They’d also decided to use one of the beds for storage, sleeping together in the other. The first time that happened and all of them had to face Belphie’s resentment, Lucifer had feared for NES’s safety and even considered confining his brother in the attic again. Thankfully, and surprisingly, the younger demon had opted for the pettier option: ignoring MC altogether and treating NES like a rotten piece of furniture.

He was probably hoping for MC to feel guilty enough to completely ignore NES and come crawling back to him, but, as different as they were, both humans quickly became two peas in a pod, always walking hand in hand, shoulders brushing while exchanging secrets that no one else was allowed to hear.

Overall, the whole situation had become a recurrent topic in the brothers’ groupchat and, while Lucifer wanted to remain as nonchalant as ever, it was impossible to hide his opinions on the matter.

He wasn’t happy.

None of them were.

.

.

Mammon wanted her gone.

He wanted her gone now.

Who did she think she was, stealing MC’s attention from him and acting like she didn’t know what she was doing? Sitting next to her at every meal, massaging her scalp during movie nights and waking her up at odd hours because she liked ‘those late night talks’ in the kitchen?

What type of talks were ‘those’? MC could have them with Mammon; she didn’t need NES! She had him, after all. Her first man!

“Well, I’m her first woman then” answered NES the time they argued over who was gonna sit next to MC in class.

Who did she think she was?!

“Are you okay, Mammon? You seem upset”

And there she came, the bane of his existence, already dressed up in her RAD uniform and dragging MC by the hand. Both of them looked tired and Mammon realized with primal horror that no noise had come from the kitchen that night.

“Why are you so tired?! MC!”

Her only answer was a yawn, so NES gave herself the right to talk on her behalf; but not before handing MC some food for breakfast, of course. 

Although half of it was burnt, Mammon still hoped MC would like it.

“Oh, we were up for a long while, barely slept at all. Right, MC?”

She nodded, happy under the pampering, but her eyelids were half closed and she didn’t seem to notice she was eating her favorites. 

Mammon stared at them in shock and distraught before sparing a glance at Lucifer, who was too occupied checking his DDD and drinking his coffee to pay attention. Had he really looked at him, though, he would’ve seen a twitch in his brother’s forehead and a stillness in his eyes; he wasn’t reading at all.

“Then maybe MC and I could take a nap after class”

They all looked at Belphie, who had started to show an unusual interest in going to RAD those last few days. He was smiling like a kid in a candy store, already gawking at the idea of spending quality time with MC, or, at least, what he considered quality time.

His expression dropped, however, when MC shared a complicit glance with NES and smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry Belphie, but I already made plans with NES”

“We’re going to Majolish” added said girl with a sly glint in her eyes “MC saw some clothes and wanted an outside opinion” 

Belphie looked downright offended, but not as much as Mammon felt. What did she mean they were going to Majolish because MC wanted an outside opinion? He was there! He was literally a model!! Hell, even Asmo would've been a better choice!

“I’ll go with you!” he announced, not asking for permission “I’m a professional, you know? You should be thankful I’m even considering wasting my time on some dumb humans!”

The youngest demon rolled his eyes, but NES’s expression briefly flickered and that was almost enough for Mammon. Beside him, at the head of the table, Lucifer sighed. 

“Do what you want, but if you end up third wheeling, that’s on you”

MC laughed, neither confirming nor denying anything. NES watched over the brim of her mug, challenging them with unsaid words.

Mammon wanted her gone.

.

.

Famine woke Beel up, like always, so he went to the kitchen, like always. It’d been MC’s turn to cook that night and he was pretty sure she’d stored some leftovers in the fridge for him. It was nice, being remembered even when she was too occupied with NES to pay them attention anymore. It brought some comfort, as well as a small smile to his face.

But much to his chagrin, the kitchen light was already turned on when he arrived, and his mood soured when he saw what was happening. Beel’s heart dropped and plummeted through his guts, deepening the black hole in his stomach. MC was leaning against the counter, creating some concoction in a bowl, while NES hugged her from behind. Both of them waved at him when he made his presence known, getting no greetings in return.

“Hi, Beel! I left food in the fridge for you!”

He wanted to be happy and thank her for the trouble, but he wasn’t able to think properly, not when NES’s face was snuggled into the fluff of MC’s hoodie, hands sneaking around her waist and disappearing under the material.

What was she doing? Should he stop her? But MC looked so cozy… not uncomfortable at all. His throat closed at the same time his stomach roared loud enough to fill the silence in the kitchen.

“Beel, are you okay?” 

“You seem upset”

MC looked worried, but NES’s words crammed his mind. She’d said the same thing to Mammon that morning wearing the same self-satisfied expression.

Ignoring his needs and his emptiness, Beel turned around and left them alone.

.

.

MC was seething. Her thoughts were a mere blurr and a sting in her throat left her unable to speak her mind the way she wanted to do it.

Was he serious?

Were they serious? Those self-righteous hypocrites! 

“We think it’s for the best, MC” spoke Lucifer like she was a child too slow to get his point.

“She’s playing with you, honey! She’ll hurt you!”

The gall. The audacity. The… ugh!

She stared at Asmo baring her teeth, never a threat to them, but a gesture so uncharacteristic of her that it was impossible not to treat the situation seriously. The common room was silent, yet MC was sure every single one of them was able to hear the violent thumping of her heart.

“We’re doing this for you”

“FOR ME?” she screeched at Belphie.

A scream would’ve made her feel better, but she guessed the high pitch got her point across good enough, her anger reaching every corner of the room. The brothers stayed silent, eyes wide open and muscles tense, waiting for her next movement. Not even when she got up from her seat and paced they spoke.

“YOU DO THIS FOR YOU!” 

“MC, lower your voice”

“NO”

Lucifer glared at her, the red in his eyes glowing dangerously. MC wanted to keep going just to spite him, begrudgingly giving up in the end. She was close to crying out of frustration and her throat hurted, so screaming would only hurt her more.

“You were the ones that insisted so much on having another human exchange student” she reminded them, stopping in front of the fireplace and basking in the warmth for some comfort, pointing to the eldest brother with clenched jaws “You said it would improve the program!”

“She’s holding you back, distracting you and using you for her own entertainment!” intervened Satan before Lucifer could speak.

“Oh, because you were so altruistic last year! Treating me with all the respect I deserved! Totally not threatening me all the time or even killing me for selfish reasons! You’d never do that to me, would you?!”

They lowered their gaze, suddenly very embarrassed, and MC felt a part of her healing. Then she saw Levi’s glassy eyes and Beel’s defeated expression. Neither Mammon nor Belphie weren’t even looking at her anymore. And she could live without Belphie’s half-hearted apologies, but not without the brothers under a pact.

“I believe this is enough, MC. Calm down and we’ll talk again in the morning”

Lucifer got up, his voice completely neutral, but his eyes pleading and desperate. He started to close the distance, but she got away, walking towards the door without breaking eye contact.

“You were so on board with this, Lucifer!”

The tears swelled in her eyes. Hot tears breaking her a little more, fuelling her anger. 

“Do you really think I’m not aware of what she’s doing? We share a room, you morons! I've lived with her more than I’ve ever lived with you!” 

There was silence again, four of them looking at her with visible pain and the other three leaning against each other.

Fuck it then.

“It’s all good and awesome when you’re the ones in favor, but when I’m the one having fun, suddenly NES has to go away?! Do you hear yourselves?! I’m so done with you thinking I owe you anything at all, let alone my fucking soul! Half of our pacts weren't even born out of friendship, so hear me out and hear me well! Get your heads out of your asses and for once in your life: LEAVE ME ALONE!”

MC walked away, closing the door at full force and leaving them behind in more ways than one.

How could they ever get over this?

.

.

.

Taglist: : @stfuchaase @k1-an @meggs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006 @jonielunar @piercedddriver @cosmidaydreaming

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

Peach Pie

Here's my fic for @steddieexchange for @stitchdfox (thanks for the prompts! This was a blast to write) It's also a prompt fill for @steddiebingo round one -- two prompts: lake, and fluff Rating: EXPLICIT Tags: Phone sex, Omega!Steve, Alpha!Eddie, a/b/o dynamics, blow jobs, dry humping, praise kink, aftercare, fluff and smut, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, platonic soulmates robin buckley & steve harrington WC: 9969 Thank you so much @fkinkindagauche and @talanashta for the beta and all the omegaverse advice. The phone sex scene was largely inspired by WabiSabiPapi's Pillow Talk. A lot of the scent descriptions were inspired by how Gauche handled it in Hot Knife

Read the entire fic on Ao3

“He shoots! And he…” Steve mutters, willing the Swedish Fish he just threw to land in Robin’s mouth. It’s almost there…

Then Robin moves two inches to the left and the candy hits her on the cheek.

“Robs. It was right there! Why?”

“You try holding still when there’s something flying at your face!”

“How am I supposed to get this in your mouth without making it fly in your face first?”

“Like you’re any better at getting it in your mouth,” Robin mutters, gesturing to the pile of sweets strewn about the floor.

It’s a slow day at Family Video. Slow enough that they’re trying to figure out some party tricks to impress Vickie. It’s not going great. Steve sighs and crosses ‘food catching’ off the list.

“Ok. The list is getting kind of short. You sure you don’t want to try keg stands?”

“Yeah right, Vickie’s going to be so impressed when I fall and break my neck.”

“It could be a good bonding experience you know? Let her take care of you and everything.”

“Nuh uh, you’re going to be switching out my bed pans.”

The bell rings before Steve can think of a retort. Vickie walks in with her usual bright smile. The patch Robin gave her sits prominently on her right shoulder. Robin erps. Steve tickles her to give her some cover for the deep blush on her face.

“Hey,” Vickie says shyly.

“Hi,” Robin stammers. Steve backs up a little when Vickie comes up to the counter. He and Robin practiced for this. She even made him put on a little red wig so she can really immerse herself. And yet.

Steve watches the two of them awkwardly stammer out a few stilted lines about band, frustrated beyond belief. He knows Robin can talk to Vickie. He’s seen her talk to Vickie. Besides, Steve knows Vickie also likes Robin. Why else would she be renting a movie a day ? Who watches that many movies? Weirdos, or someone trying to get into the movie shop employee’s over-sized pants.

“So Vickie, what ‘cha doing this weekend?” Steve says, unable to stand it anymore.

“I…” Vickie takes a beat, like she’s searching for a cool answer. “I’m going diving,” she says.

“What a coincidence,” Steve says with a smile, “so were we.”

“We are?” Robin asks. “I mean, we are,” she corrects herself.

“That’s… that’s great. So we can… if you don’t mind me butting in that is,” Vicky mutters out with a bright smile.

“Oh please, we’d be honored to have your butt—ing in,” Robin says. Vickie laughs, somehow charmed. Steve smiles and backs off to go pretend to organize the sci-fi section now that the two are talking about diving and weekends. A shameful part of him chafes at the thought of Robin actually getting together with Vickie. There’s going to be a lot less sleepovers, movie nights, and going up to the city. Or maybe Robin will let him tag along as a forever third wheel. Whatever it is, as long as Robin’s happy…

Steve’s wallowing so deep in self-pity that he misses Robin coming up to stand behind him. He shrieks at the sudden sharp finger on his pits.

“Ouch, my ears,” Robin complains as if it wasn’t all her fault.

“Jesus, warn a guy next time,” Steve gasps. Robin doesn’t give him a second to catch his breath. She pulls him into a tight hug instead, squealing loud enough to make his ears ring. “I’ll take it that you have plans?” Steve asks, laughing.

“Yeah dingus,” Robin says, letting him go so she can punch him in the arm, “thanks, I guess.”

“Yep, so I should have a horrible stomach flu the day before and not show up right? Let you get some quality time?”

“Yes, yes, but actually…” Robin says hesitantly.

“Actually what? Robs, you’re not asking me to come to your first date are you?”

“Well the thing is…” Robin draws a circle with her toes, face flushed, “i’mafraidoffish,” she finishes.

“What was that?”

“I’m…” Robin takes a deep gulping breath. “I’m afraid of fish.”

“You had fish with me? Last night?” Steve asks, flabbergasted. How did he not know this before now?

“Right but it was dead… It’s the live ones. Can’t stand the thought of them staring at me,” Robin says with a shudder.

“Robs, but you’ve… dived before,” Steve says, “when my leg cramped up?”

“That wasn’t a dive,” Robin retorts, “that was just me jumping into lake water. Besides, I was too focused on, you know, thinking you might die?”

A wave of intolerably strong fondness washes over Steve. Sure, he was touched back then when Robin threw herself into the cold lake water with zero hesitation. But he didn’t know that she apparently had a phobia of fish in waters, and that lake was full of them. “Robs…”

“Nope, nope, zip it. You sap.” Robin says, pinching his mouth shut with two fingers. “That’s not important. What’s important is, you need to figure out how to make me comfortable with diving.”

“I don’t know… close your eyes or something?”

“But Vicky’s going to point out cool fish and stuff to me and I need to enjoy it! Not freak out about the thing looking at me!”

“I don’t…” Steve looks around the shelves as if it might give him an answer. “What if… what if we practice?” He finally asks.

“Practice?”

“Yeah. Let’s… we’ve got six days right? We’ll go diving every day. Get you used to it. Then by the time you’re going on a date with Vicky you’ll be a pro,” Steve says, getting more confident with every word.

“You think a week is enough?” Robin asks quietly.

“Yeah! You’ve never actually had fish staring at you right?”

“No, they’re usually dead by the time they get to me.”

“Yeah! So you just need to try it out first,” Steve takes her hand and presses it to his heart, amplifies his scent so it can waft over her. “Look, you already said we’re the same person. I’m not scared. You won’t be scared. You get it right?”

“Dingus,” Robin says, lightly slapping his chest and squirming her hand away. “Alright. Operation sleeping with the fishes is a go.”

********* The dive shop is tiny and efficient. Every available inch is stuffed with various… stuff that Steve figures must be important. The guy at the counter is strumming something nice on a guitar. He smells like campfire and something Steve can’t quite name. Whatever it is, it’s loosening up the anxious knot in Steve’s chest.

He put on a brave face, but honestly, he’s as nervous as Robin. Sure, he was on the swim team, but that was in a pool. The last time he tried swimming in the open waters, he got a leg cramp and Robin had to pull him out. He hadn’t gone into a natural body of water since. That’s why he got here first, to scope things out and figure out how everything’s going to go. Otherwise, she’ll smell his nerves, then he’ll smell her nerves and it’s going to make him more nervous then her more nervous and so on and on, creating a flywheel of shit until they’re both a puddle on the floor. But he’s going to be ready. He’ll talk to that dude and he’ll make a plan. Steve takes the time to look around the cramped shop before clearing his throat.

The guy starts. “Hey! Welcome to Lover’s Dive,” he says, spinning a little too hard on his chair. He ends up turning himself a full 360 degrees and has to adjust, cussing under his breath. Steve stifles a giggle. “Sorry, let’s try that again,” he mutters, facing Steve. “Welcome to Lover’s dive!… Harrington?”

“Eddie?” Steve gasps. “Mrs. Click’s class right?”

“Aww you remembered little ol’ me?” Eddie says, batting his lashes and flashing his alpha canines. “Funny. I don’t remember us exchanging a single word.”

“And yet, you remembered me,” Steve mutters, pleased but flustered. Of course he remembers Eddie. Loud. Bright. Sauntering on lunch tables and daring his basketball team to come and bite him. Tommy hated him. Steve couldn’t look away.

“I thought you moved?” Steve asks.

“I did,” Eddie says with a shrug, “but…” he clears his throat. “Anyway, I’m back. Wayne’s friend wanted someone to man the shop while he dives in the Carribeans.”

“That’s nice of you,” Steve says. Eddie responds to that with a big, dimpled grin.

“So how can I help?” he asks, “you just here for equipment? Or you want the guided tour?”

“Guided tour please,” Steve asks. “I’m going to be coming around quite a bit actually. Robin and I were hoping to get better at diving.”

“Robin? Robin Buckley from band?”

“Yep. You knew her?”

“Yeah, great musician. Gotta say Harrington, your tastes have changed since we last passed each other in those halls,” Eddie says, leaning forward. “You be good to her. You hear?” He pantomimes cocking a rifle.

“We’re not dating,” Steve says laughing.

“Is that a yet?” Eddie asks with a gleam in his eyes. “This the old Harrington special?”

Steve groans. “Dude, we’re not in high school anymore. You really want to harp about the old ‘King Steve’?” he says, making air quotes, “very conformist of you, just saying.”

Eddie makes a strangled noise and clutches at his chest. Steve leans forward, alarmed, as Eddie sinks to the floor.

"Eddie?" Steve whispers. Did he kill him?

Then Eddie shoots back up with a giant dimpled smile. "It's me! Back from the dead after killing the old Eddie, a judgmental conformist." He awkwardly climbs over the counter, so he can get right into Steve's space. There's only dimples and campfire. Steve stops himself from trilling just in time. "So, my friend, let's do that again. Welcome to Lover's Dive! What glorious times are you hoping to have with your friend in these exalted waters?"

Eddie’s eyes are wild. His hair is even wilder. He’s put on some muscles after high school. The veins on his forearms flex. But that lightness, the refusal to quiet himself down and fit in to a nice little mold… that’s all still there. Steve feels the blood rushing to his ears…

“Munson. He’s my best friend,” Robin snarls from the door, “don’t fuck with him.”

“Noted, Lady Buckley,” Eddie says, exaggeratedly backing away from Steve.

“We were fine,” Steve says hurriedly. Robin scared the shit out of Dustin that one time he got too snippy about Steve being slow to read. He knows Robin wouldn’t hesitate to drive an air tank into Eddie’s head and he does not need that right now.

“So, what can I get you? Friend birds?” Eddie asks.

“Your finest tour if you please,” Steve says, trying to remember all weird fantasy English stuff that Munson and the kids seemed to get such a kick out of.

[runninriot]

inspired by the prompt Love is being able to say you’re sorry and mean it by @eyesofshinigami for @steddielovemonth day 23

sorry, not sorry

wc: 1688 | rated: t | tags: Robin Buckley is fed up with her idiot friends, Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are oblivious and they’re bad at feelings, Love Confessions, Idiots to Lovers

„Why should I say sorry when he is the one acting weird. I didn’t do anything! It’s not my fault he doesn’t like me.” Steve looks at her, lips forming a bitchy pout, acting annoyed at her for bringing it up – like he really believes his own words and Robin is the one who just doesn’t get it.

Robin rolls her eyes.

God, she wants to strangle him sometimes. And Eddie, too. They are both so stupid, acting like they don’t like each other when everyone and their mother can see the longing looks they throw at each other whenever they are in the same room.

It’s been driving her mad.

They’ve been dancing around each other for weeks now, putting up fronts, acting like they just barely tolerate each other’s presence. Like they are forced to get along because of their mutual friends.

It’s bullshit. Sure, these two would’ve never met if it wasn’t for the little shitheads they both took under their wings (or maybe Dustin and his friends are actually the ones that took Eddie and Steve under theirs because the teens are clearly a lot more mature than these two idiots) but now that their worlds have collided, it’s so obvious that there is a connection between them neither wants to admit to.

   “You could’ve at least asked him to come?”

   “Robs, he didn’t even look at me when he came in earlier. What makes you think he wants to come to my place when he made it clear that he hates everything about the idea of spending time there?”

Steve is having a party on Saturday, invited everyone over, except for Eddie. Not because he purposely meant to exclude him but because Eddie’s been teasing him about it all week. Whenever Steve mentioned his plans, Eddie made a silly comment about how lame it sounds. ‘Bet the music will be all pop and no taste.’ – ‘Just beer? Come on, Harrington, grow up.’ – ‘Oh, a sleepover? Great! Are we gonna do pillow fights and face masks and all that fancy shit, too?’

Yeah, maybe Steve has a point. Eddie really didn’t make it seem like he wanted to be part of it. And it’s not really Steve’s fault for not understanding that Eddie is doing that out of self-protecting reasons. That he’d rather pretend to hate the idea of spending the night at Steve’s than having to live with the rejection of Steve not wanting him there in the first place. Steve is oblivious.

And obviously, Eddie is too.

And okay, Steve hasn’t exactly been showing Eddie that he cares for him either. Always pretends to be annoyed at him. Always bitching about the stupidest and most inane things like – ‘Yeah how about you grow up Mr Dungeon Master?! Aren’t you a little too old to keep playing games with teens?’ – ‘Jesus, Eddie, you know there’s a thing called hair brush one can use to tame that frizzy mop on your head?’ – ‘No thank you, I don’t want to be driving around in your van. That thing looks like it’s gonna fall apart any second.’

They’re constantly bickering and bantering, always so quick to be at each other’s throats. That is, until they think that no one is looking.

Because Steve actually loves to listen to Eddie talk when he’s leading the teens through a campaign, uses all these various voices to interpret the different characters he created.

And Robin just knows Steve’s finger itch to take care of Eddie’s unruly curls himself but he would never offer, would never say it out loud.

Robin can see the way Eddie’s gaze follows Steve around Family Video when he’s talking to her while Steve is attending to another customer – a sickly sweet smile on his lips, with eyes that are basically heart-shaped.

The way he blushes whenever Steve walks around shirtless and in his stupid, tiny shorts (ugh, men), tries and fails so hard every time not to stare with his mouth hanging open.

It’s like they’re both so desperately trying to convince themselves that they hate each other, when all of their stolen glances and hidden smiles keep giving them away.

   “You know how stubborn he is. I am pretty sure he would’ve said yes. But you didn’t ask and maybe now he thinks you don’t want him there. Did you think about that?”

Steve worries his bottom lip, looks like he’s contemplating what to say.

   “He hates me,” is all he offers and the sadness in his eyes breaks Robin’s heart.

-

   “Talk to him, Eddie.”

   “Pff, why should I? I’m not that desperate to attend some stupid party. What do you want me to say to him? Hey, sorry for making fun of you, could I maybe still get a pity invite so I don’t have to spend my Saturday alone and miserable while you’re all having a fun time? Yeah, no. Thanks.”

She’s gonna lose it with these two at some point. Robin has been trying. Beating around the bush, talking about that stupid party like it is the real problem just because neither Steve nor Eddie are ready to admit what it is really about.

   “What if I want you there. You’re my friend and I want to spend time with you too.”

   “I appreciate it, Bucks. I really do. And I love to hang out with you any time. But this is Steve’s party and if he doesn’t want me there, I have to accept it.”

She wants to shake him. Yell at him to drop the act and be fucking for real, just once.

   “Edward Albert Munson.”

The use of his full name has the desired effect of getting his full attention, eyes blown wide and his expression a mix of appalled and impressed.

   “Can you, for the love of anything that’s holy, stop pretending to be so above everything and just tell him already?!”

She knows it’s a little unfair to put that burden on Eddie when she could’ve told Steve the same. But she knows that between the two, Eddie will be easier to convince.

   “What are you talking about?” Eddie tries, but the blush on his cheeks tells her he knows exactly what she means.

   “You know what I’m talking about. I’m sick and tired of watching you guys pining for each other when you could’ve been making out for weeks now if you would just fucking talk.”

   “What?!” This time, Eddie seems genuinely stunned.

   “You two are perfect for each other. You’re both incredibly stupid and so far up your own asses, that you don’t see what you’re missing out on.”

She crosses her arms before her chest, suppresses the urge to smile triumphantly when she sees Eddie crumble as the realisation hits.

-

Steve is in the kitchen, preparing some snacks and drinks, when the doorbell rings. Everyone is already there, they’re all in the living room having a great time, so Steve thinks it might just be their pizza delivery.

   “Robs, can you get that?”

There’s no answer. Either she doesn’t hear him over the music or, more likely, she ignores him. Steve huffs, drops the bag of chips on the counter and goes to open the door.

He’s fumbling with his wallet, not even looking at the person standing on the bottom of his front steps, when a familiar voice gets his attention.

   “Hey, Steve.”

   “Eddie? What are you-“

Steve’s heart suddenly picks up speed when his eyes drift to Eddie’s lips, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners.

   “I wanted to apologize. I’ve been-“

   “No problem, man! I gotta say sorry, too. I should’ve just invited you and stop making such a big deal out of it.”

   “Not about- okay, yeah that too but- I’m sorry for being a dick. I’m sorry for- for not being honest with you. And I get that this not the best timing but a little bird told me to man up and-“

Steve’s mind is racing. He doesn’t have a clue where Eddie is going with this. Or maybe he does but he doesn’t want to hold up his hopes because surely, Eddie isn’t going to say what he wants him to.

   “I’m not sorry for making you feel like I don’t like you because the truth is, I don’t.”

Steve looks down at his own feet, needs a moment to process, a moment to breathe.

    Huh?

  “It’s more like, I’m totally gone for you, Steve. I want you in ways that scare me. I’m sorry for making you think I’m not head over heels in love with you and your stupid perfect hair and your annoying kindness and just... everything about you that’s had me losing sleep for weeks now.”

  “Oh.”

   “I’m sorry, Eddie,” he says when he looks back up, tries not to sound too excited because he feel like he deserves just a little revenge for the way Eddie phrased his earth shattering confession and nearly gave Steve a heart attack with it.

But then Eddie’s eyes fill with tears and there’s defeat written on his face and-

 No, that’s not what Steve wants.

   “I’m sorry for not doing this sooner.”

He surges forward, nearly misses a step when he flings himself at Eddie, wraps his arms around the other man’s neck and draws him into a kiss.

The kiss is desperate, full of regret for depriving himself of the wonderful feeling of Eddie’s plush lips on his. Dripping with want, spilling all the words he didn’t say, words he wants Eddie to know, to feel in every part of his body.

    I’m sorry for not telling you that I love you.

They are too caught up in the moment; too busy making out to notice Robin standing in the doorway, who came looking for Steve. There’s a huge smile on her face and she knows she’ll regret it because they will be insufferable together. But right now, all she is sorry for is not stepping in sooner.

Because they might be idiots but they’re her idiots and they deserve to be in love.