#say that you miss me + find out the hard way + big sad + move on too etc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

msgexymunson · 11 months ago

Text

Benefits

Description: Your best friend Eddie starts to look very appealing to you, but if you suggest a dynamic change, will he go for it?

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, AFAB reader, weed smoking, virgin Eddie x virgin reader, grinding, fingering, fem oral receiving.

A/N: I just wanted to write a little goofy, not so confident Eddie and this poured out of my brain hole. Enjoy! Reblogs and comments keep me alive so please for the love of all that is smutty reblog if you enjoy it!

5k words

Masterlist

“All I'm saying is…” you take a big pull of the joint Eddie wiggles at you, his rough fingers brushing your lips. Your voice comes out croaky as hell when you speak, holding the smoke in, “...you can't do the voice.”

The film plays quietly in the background as you both hang out on his couch, paying little attention to it.

Eddie scoffs at you, taking the smoke back, and takes a big lug of it himself, hand coming to rest on your bare ankle that was thrown casually over his lap.

“What you trying to say? You know I can do voices. I could totally do Vader.”

Giggling, you wiggle your feet as he lightly drags his fingers over them.

“Don't do that, you know it tickles!”

Holding his hands up and away from you, you almost miss the contact. Which was insane. This is Eddie, for fucks sake. Your best friend. The asshole who made you nearly piss your pants in seventh grade from tickling too hard, who does stupid shit to get you to smile when you're sad.

Recently though, the little lingering touches he gives you make your toes curl. Those glances that last a little too long for best friends, the drag of his hand on your back when you move through a crowd. It was crazy, but a part of you couldn't help but think he was feeling the same way. It wasn't like you were in love with the guy, at least not like that. He was almost family. Which made the feelings that you were having sinful in a way that made your thighs clench.

The flirting didn't help. Eddie flirted as naturally as breathing. He was just so goddamn charming; he had chemistry with everyone. Which made it even more awkward. What if your salacious thoughts weren't reciprocated? Maybe it was just your raging hormones and you needed to keep them in check before you lose your best friend.

“You're wrong you know.”

Eddie's words bring you out of the daze you've been falling into; you blink at him, confused.

“Huh?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, and flashes you a smirk that does nothing to quench the fire inside, right when his large hands move to your waist and tickle you relentlessly. You're gasping giggles as he pins your hands over your head, full weight pressing into you. Somehow, he's got his narrow hips in between your thighs, which is definitely not helping the situation.

“I can totally do the voice, see?” He drops it two octaves, letting a deep bass voice flow out of him, “Luke, I am your father.”

Fuck, that shouldn't turn you on, but it did. That, and his forced proximity has you feeling uncomfortably wet. It's embarrassingly seeping into your panties; so much so that you cringe at your body's betrayal.

He's just so damn close. So close, that you see something fluttering behind those brandy wine eyes of his. Or, was it merely your imagination?

Only one way to find out.

Biting your lip, you flutter your eyelashes softly and speak in the sexiest voice you can.

“Does that mean I should call you Daddy?”

Eddie's mouth drops open in a perfect O, eyebrows knitted.

“You can't- you just- fuck!”

He clambers off of you in an attempt to put some space between you, crossing his legs on the couch. Eddie looks flustered, cheeks burning red as he looks at you like you just grew an extra head.

“I can't what, Eddie? Can't tease you like you tease me?”

“Huh? I don't tease you! When did I-”

“Oh, pinning me down don't count, huh?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you watch as he blows air out, grabbing a cushion and ramming it in his lap.

“I didn't mean it like that, it's just, I dunno.”

Looking down at his hands, he fiddles with his rings. The sheepishness he's showing is adorable, and so unlike him that it stops you in your tracks. Maybe you should just go easy on him, just a little.

“Don't worry about it Eds, I'm just fucking around.”

There's a bit of tension released from his shoulders, but he's still not looking at you.

Fuck, you need another smoke.

“You want me to roll?”

“Hell no, I've seen you roll.”

Scrunching your nose in fake anger, he laughs at you.

“Look like a little chipmunk when you do that.”

“All I hear is that you think I'm adorable.” You giggle as he mockingly rolls his eyes.

“OK, you roll, I'll grab some sodas.”

Getting up, you smooth your skirt down and walk over to the fridge. The cans are on the lower shelf, so you bend to grab two, making a mental note to tell Eddie to buy some more.

When you look back, Eddie's slid to the floor, rolling paraphernalia spread out in front of him. It would be a normal scene, if he didn't still have the cushion wedged in his lap and his face wasn't glowing redder than your underwear.

Underwear… underwear that he might have seen, since you just bent over. And the only reason why he'd keep that cushion in his lap is if he…

Oh.

Wordlessly, you put the soda next to his elbow and scoot up on the couch, entirely unsure about what you're supposed to do in a situation like this. The furthest you've ever gone is some over the clothes stuff.

Plus, this is Eddie. Your stupid, asshole, mean, tormenting, breathtakingly gorgeous best friend. You curse, wriggling a little in your seat. Your panties are so damp they're practically glued to your privates, a heat emanating from you that's making your insides burn.

“Milady.”

Eddie holds the joint to you, perfectly rolled and more surprisingly, unlit.

“Eddie, you always take the first toke. Rollers rights, remember?”

He shrugs and passes it anyway, giving you the lighter too, as he lifts himself onto the couch with both hands, letting his cushion shield drop briefly. Long enough to see the tightness in the crotch of his pants.

Now the feel of your slick is dampening your thighs. Pushing them together as tight as you can, willing the feeling to dissipate, you light it with trembling hands. One puff, two puffs, pass. As his fingers graze yours, he looks at you appraisingly.

“You alright there sweetheart? Not comfy?”

Nothings gonna happen if you just sit here and whine like a bitch in your head. Take the leap.

“It's a little, er, embarrassing.”

Knees squeezing together so hard it's bordering on painful, you look up at him through your lashes. Eddie's eyes are wide and warm, a light smile wrinkling them at the corners softly.

“It's only me, come on. You can tell me anything.”

Huffing and wriggling some more, you watch him inhale smoke, and blow it out, a slight pout to his mouth that makes you want to pepper it with soft kisses. Then hard kisses. Then, other stuff. Fuck.

“It's not- we don't, talk about this kinda stuff. I don't wanna… cross a line, you know?”

“Hey, it's alright.” His thick fingers shakily touch your knee, thumb rubbing back and forth. You're not sure if it calms you or makes you worse. It could be both.

“Fine. Just, don't look at me when I tell you this, ‘kay?”

There's a little laugh from him, then he rests his head on the back of the couch, eyes staring resolutely to the ceiling.

“Alright weirdo I'm not looking. Shoot.”

Tightening your knuckles, your face creases with the effort as you let fly the words that may well end your friendship.

“I'm uncomfortable, I'm just- fuck, I'm really wet, OK?”

Of all the things you could say, you know Eddie was not expecting you to say that. Especially when he blushes profusely and his grip tightens hard on the cushion in his lap. True to his word, his gaze is directed firmly on the ceiling.

“That's really-” His voice is broken; squeaky and boyish. He coughs and it comes out much lower, almost comically so. “That's, er, interesting.”

You can't help it. A crazy laugh shoots out of your throat. An insane laugh. A mental institution laugh. It seems fitting for the situation. Here you are, on Eddie fucking Munson’s couch, telling him how wet you are? You've finally lost it.

He laughs with you, helping to diffuse some of the awkward energy filling the room.

“Sorry Eddie. It just feels a bit, surreal, you know?”

Eddie risks a look at you when he hands the joint back. You both stare at each other, each wishing to read the other's mind.

Remember who you're talking to. This is Eddie. You can talk to him about anything.

“Listen, Eddie, this is way out of fucking left field but I'm gonna say it. Have you like, done stuff, before?”

Taking the biggest inhale you can risk without swallowing the roach, you pass the smoke back. There's a very slight shake to Eddie's hand. For some reason it gives you a bit more confidence. His voice wobbles more dramatically than you've ever heard.

“You mean like, sexual, stuff?”

He finishes the smoke and stubs it out, glancing at you. There's a heat in his eyes that you're not used to seeing.

“Y-yeah, I mean, honest truth? I've only done over the clothes stuff. Nothing more than that. And you?”

Eddie coughs, puffing his chest out a little in full man-mode.

“I mean, yeah sure, a bit more than that, you know.”

You do know. You know by the way he worded that, he's at least not gotten past third base.

“You're a virgin too then.”

“Hey!” He huffs, turning to you, “I'm like, way less of a virgin than you are!”

You laugh loudly, knocking his arm with your fist.

“Doesn't make you less of a virgin, you idiot.”

He laughs, shaking his head.

“Suppose you're right. Some hook-ups ‘round the back of The Hideout don't count for much.”

Reaching for his hand, you brush his knuckles with tentative fingers.

“Eddie, what I'm trying to say is, well maybe- we could help each other out? I'm a bit… frustrated, and so are you. You know?”

He squirms a little, recoiling from your touch.

“What makes you think I'm frustrated?”

“Eddie, I'm not a fucking idiot. I know why you're grabbing that cushion.”

He laughs, his special fake laugh he reserves for awkward occasions. That is, until you grab the cushion from his lap and throw it across the room.

He's hard, almost painfully so. It's pressing against his zipper in such a way that you know it must be uncomfortable. You take in a harsh breath as you look at his face. So many emotions seem to be fighting for dominance. Clear arousal, some confusion, a little bit of pity, maybe? Which is the last thing you want to see.

Maybe you were wrong.

“I'm saying that we can help each other. I'm attracted to you. I'm not declaring my love for you or anything. It's not like, some crazy confession. I'm just saying we could… relieve each other.”

“Oh.” His whole demeanour has shifted at your words, “so you don't like, love me, or anything?”

“Eddie, you are so fucking stupid. Of course I love you, you're my best friend. Just not like that. I mean, I kinda want you to… touch me places, don't mean I want your hand in marriage!”

His chuckle rings against the tinny walls of the trailer. Then, he looks at you, really looks at you. Biting his lip, he walks his hands toward you, stopping just shy of your constricted knees.

“Glad you said that. I didn't know how to say that I kinda… well, that I like you, that way, but not like… man, you said it better.”

And just like that, your Eddie was back. It wasn't weird, far from it. After the way you'd been acting around each other for years, it just made sense.

You both smile at each other. A genuine, familiar smile. One that hurts your cheeks, that makes your chest fill with warmth.

“I know this is like, super weird, but it might help, you know?”

Eddie crawls further towards you, palms splayed on your knees. The simple touch has you quivering.

“What if it's too weird? I don't want this to ruin our friendship.”

You smile softly, and unclench your thighs slightly, knees spreading. Enough to make his eyes dart down to your core and back up, laced with want.

“Tell you what Eds. Kiss me.”

“And how is that gonna help?”

You laugh, beckoning him forwards. As if on a string, he leans toward you, his rough hands grazing the tops of your thighs. You try to disguise the gasp it elicits from you, but it doesn't seem necessary. Eddie's breathing hard, hard enough to hide any impromptu noises from you.

“Just kiss me Eddie. If it's weird and gross, we'll laugh about it. If it's, erm, better than that… well, then we can maybe take it a little further.”

Eddie leans in more, hovering over you as your head rests naturally into the armrest. But he stops, inches from your face, hesitating.

“I don't- shit, I don't know what to do!”

Laughing loud, you reach out and twirl a section of his hair in your soft hands, adding definition to a curl.

“Just, use a move on me. You know? Like I'm one of those girls at The Hideout. Come on.”

He laughs, knuckles dragging over your cheek.

“That's… this isn't the same. You're not like that ”

“Fine, just- come on to me. Hit me with your best shot. Just, I dunno, just-”

The rest of your sentence dies on your tongue as he cradles your jaw and presses his full lips softly to yours. You don't know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. He holds your face almost delicately, tongue lapping gently at your lip until you allow him to slip it inside.

It's a slow, deliberate thing, as if he's mapping out your mouth in case you never agree to do this again. Not that that's a danger to you. His tongue is burning hot; a slippery warm need, igniting the fire that was already smouldering within you.

His form relaxes slightly, allowing his weight to drop. His chest falls onto yours, no doubt telling him of the heaving gasps you're taking. You couldn't find it in you to mind, not whilst he's prising your legs open with one knee, his thigh pressing against just where you need it most.

A moan races out of your mouth and into his, muffled into his chasing tongue. The warmth between your legs is just getting worse, stoked by the pressure of his searching knee. Suddenly there's tension exactly where you need it, the coarse denim of his thigh rubbing hard against your throbbing nub.

“Eddie, fuck!”

He smiles into your mouth as he pushes his leg harder, groans overtaking his mouth as you use it to chase your pleasure.

His perfect mouth traces down your jaw, nipping and sucking at your flesh. His thick tongue lathing over your taut muscles, your tiny fingers grasping onto his arms almost pathetically.

When he breaks away to look at you, eyes searching for doubts, you can't help but think how beautiful he looks. His hair's a little messier than usual, cheeks flushed pink, and those full lips look even plumper than before.

“Sorry, should have checked in. Was that, alright? Not too weird?”

You try to slow your breathing, but it's no use. It usually takes you a while to get there on your own, but you were so close to coming on Eddie's leg after a couple of minutes of making out it was almost shameful.

“I'll say, jeez. I nearly- er, got carried away.”

“Really?” Eddie's eyes seem to brighten as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a cheeky grin.

“Don't let that get to your head! I'm just really… needy right now.”

“Fuck,” he replies, adjusting his bulge, “right, carried away, you say?”

Before you can process what he's said he leaps up, grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulder. Your giggling squeals echo through the trailer, ringing out like the peals of a bell as he barges into his room and throws you on the bed. Laughing and red faced, with your skirt rucked up around your hips and your arms flung above your head, you notice Eddie's gaze shamelessly skimming to your panties.

Shaking out of his bare faced revelry he jumps onto the bed next to you, eager as a kid at Christmas. He's on his side, a large hand roaming over your stomach, across your waist, down to your hips and skimming just under your thin sweater.

“You want me to take this off?” You ask, tugging at the hem.

“Oh, er- yeah, I-I mean if you- do you want to take it off?”

Eddie bumbles through his words as you giggle at him, his usual confident demeanour evaporated at the thought of your body.

“Eddie you dingus, you've literally seen me in my underwear before!”

“Well, yeah… but that was before you, er, filled out.”

It was a long time ago. A hot Summer spent running around the trailer park hitting each other with water balloons. You'd almost forgotten how far back it was.

“You don't have to be scared of my boobs ya know.”

Eddie scoffs, hitting you playfully with a flick of his finger on the tip of your nose. You grab it, trying to bite it but he's pulling it away and you follow. It turns into yet another wrestling match as laughter rings from the pair of you. He tries to hold his hand up high but then you straddle him.

Suddenly, his arm goes limp and you pull the offending digit into your mouth triumphantly, nibbling softly. It's then you realise you're straddling his stomach and he's completely lost, staring at the way your skirt is wrinkled.

Play fight discarded, you shimmy down his body and revel in the little shaking breath Eddie makes as you sit gently on his crotch, the hardened bulge pressing into your clothed heat.

“Fuck, you're so warm.”

You blush as his fingers dig into your hips as if afraid you'll disappear.

“You can feel that, through your jeans?”

He chuckles low in his throat and the sound travels straight to your tummy, letting loose a cascade of butterflies.

“Feel it? It's like a freaking furnace. Bet it'll feel amazing inside you.”

It's just Eddie, running his mouth; in fact it seems he didn't mean to say that out loud judging by the look on his face. He always has an issue separating outside thoughts and inside thoughts. It was so casually spoken though, you don't think he realised just how dirty it sounded.

Your fingers smooth up his stomach, feeling the muscles tense under the contact, pulling his shirt up with them.

“Really hot when you say stuff like that.”

You're embarrassed admitting it, but you're so turned on that he needs to know how much his words affect you. Mostly so he'll keep using them.

“Yeah?”

“Hmm.”

You're dragging nails over his abdomen, tugging his t-shirt higher and higher. He doesn't seem to mind, firm hands pulling your hips slowly back and forth. So you take a shot, and yank it up high. He gets the message, lifting his arms over his head so you can fling it off and away.

There's no subtlety to the way he pulls at your top, sitting up to wrench it off you. He's panting, eyes raking over your red cotton bra as if you were in the finest lingerie. Then your lips crash together, desperately exploring each other's mouths, teeth clashing in urgency. You collapse on top of him as he holds your hip with one hand, guiding you over his hardness as the other palms your breast over your bra.

That feeling is back, the burning tingling mass of arousal clutching your insides, growing and growing quicker than ever. You rut against him, each pass sending a zip of sensation all the way from your clit to the tips of your toes.

Moaning in his mouth, you break away and he nips at your neck, rough fingers snaking into your bra to clumsily rub your nipple. You cling to his waist tightly as the feeling mounts, and mounts, and finally-

“Eddie! Oh- oh fuckin’ hell!”

It happens. The thing that had never happened to you outside of your own late night desperate fumblings. It flows like liquid fire through your veins, buzzing across your skin in a wild burning sensation that takes you utterly by surprise. Your sounds are feral; incoherent and needy, as your thighs grasp him firmly as if in fear of him moving away.

After a loaded silence, whilst you both breathe, and breathe, you finally unclasp your legs around him, falling to the side in an ungainly heap of arms and legs.

“Well. Holy fucking shit.” you laugh nervously, legs shaking with the after effects.

“So, not too weird?” He smiles, taking the opportunity to get on top of you, arms either side of your head.

“It's a little weird. Only ever, you know, came, on my own, so yeah.”

“Yeah?” The cocky look is back, a hand trailing down your shoulder to rest on your breast.

“Can I take this off, please?”

You smile and lift your back up so he can slide his hand behind you, fumbling around to try and get the clasp, swearing under his breath.

“I don't know, can you?” You question, stifling giggles.

“You could just help me, you know, you-you devil woman- Oh wait I did it!”

The clasp springs free and Eddie's proud smile nearly splits his face apart as he eagerly pulls down the straps.

“You're such a goofball.”

“You've got amazing tits, Jesus Christ.”

Heat flushes your chest and before you can retort he's kneeling between your legs, hot mouth sucking roughly on a nipple. Words fail you, your body the only thing talking as you arch your back and push toward his greedy lips. Letting go with a loud pop, he sucks a hickey right in the middle of your sternum, running his thumb over the wet mark after.

“I wanna go down on you.” He blurts it out, spill words tugging out of his lips before he can stop them.

“You wanna what?” You respond, dazed as he looks up at you, eyes full of fire.

“I wanna use my mouth on you. Down here.”

He drags his fingers low, pressing one just to the top of your mound.

“You really want to?” As far as you're aware, that's not a thing guys tend to want to do. At least that's what you've heard. Eddie seems to be an exception.

“More than anything.” He's brutally honest, eyes wide and begging.

“I mean, if you want to, sure.”

“OK, shit, just wait a sec.”

Getting up so fast it must make his head spin, he unbuttons his jeans and wrestles them down his legs, tossing them away. The tent in his boxers makes your eyes widen.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he climbs back on the bed.

“Sorry, just so fuckin’ hard it hurts.”

Nothing can stop the whimper that shoots out of your mouth at his words. Again, he's just being honest, but he doesn't seem to understand how sexy it is.

Moving to unzip your skirt, he bats your hand away to do it himself. Before he pulls it off, he looks at you nervously.

“Just, let me know if you don't like something. Or if you do. I've er, I've not done this before so lower your expectations.” He laughs it out, embarrassment coating each word.

“I thought you had a bunch of hook ups at The Hideout?” You tease, smirking at him.

“Right, full disclosure, I've erm, used my fingers before, a few times. And once- once some girl tried to give me head and I busted in like three seconds, OK?”

He grabs a bunch of his hair and hides behind it while you chuckle.

“Eddie, it's fine, I'm glad you told me. It's just me. I'm not gonna judge you, you know that.”

“Yeah, of course.” The breath he lets out is loud, tension melting from his body, and he bends to pull your skirt down and off. Your panties are next; they cling to your core so much it makes you cringe, but he doesn't seem to mind.

“Can you, spread your legs a little sweetheart?” His voice is husky, eyes staring straight at your pussy. Feeling exposed, you do as he asks, fighting the urge to pull away from his gaze.

“Look at you. Beautiful.”

Smiling at his words, it turns into an open mouthed gasp as he strokes his fingers softly through your folds.

“Fuck me, you're soaked.”

Then his tongue is slipping across you, feeling tentatively as he keeps your legs wide with his rough palms. It's different; wet and messy, but it's incredible. The pleasure increases tenfold as his wandering mouth finds your clit.

“Eddie, right there, right there!”

He groans, pushing his face into you so hard you can feel the vibrations from the noise. He's moving his tongue up and around it, making an absolute mess of spit and slick over you. Suddenly he tries sucking and your back leaves the bed, hands coming to clutch at his hair.

“Oh my God, do that again, please please, oh fuck!”

He does it again, and again, smoothing each suckle with a flat lick from his tongue. Fingers graze your hole suddenly, making you jump. As you look down you see Eddie's entirely consumed by what he's doing, rutting himself into the mattress like an animal. One finger breaches you, feeling around, pumping slowly in and out. It's good, but it's not great.

You feel ashamed even trying to guide him but you attempt to shake it off.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He looks up, an almost dazed expression in his eyes.

“Can you- can you curl your finger upward?”

“Like this?”

Your reaction is instantaneous, hips rucking up to his touch.

“Fuuuck.”

“Yeah? That good, sweetheart?”

That smugness is back but it isn't in you to care. There's no words, just little whimpers and moans as you grab him by the hair and push his mouth back where you need it.

When he adds another finger, you're gone. Your walls are clenching around him, sucking him in as the feeling of his thick digits stretching you fills your entire being. Dots dance in your vision as your whole body feels fuzzy, tingles whispering over your skin. You cry out as the feeling escalates, bubbling through you until you can't see, can't think, clawing at Eddie's head until you reach an impossible precipice. Then, it explodes, showering you in waves, over and over.

“Oh my God that was amazing, fuck Eddie, you're incredible, I never came that hard in all my life, Jesus Christ!”

You're babbling, you know, bubbles of platitudes popping out of your mouth in almost nonsensical sounds as your legs twitch like crazy.

Eddie scoots up a little, face pressed into the plush of your stomach. He mumbles something incomprehensible. Leaning up on your elbows, you pull his hair a little making him look at you.

“You alright there? What'd you say?”

Eddie laughs, kissing your tummy, face flushed pink.

“I said I fuckin’ came in my pants.”

Then he hides again, as if your skin can cover his embarrassment.

“Eddie, come here you dope.”

He climbs up you, leaning on quivering arms. The front of his boxers pushes on your sticky core.

“Don't worry about it, that's kinda hot.”

“Yeah? You're hot. That was, wow. I think I found my favourite place.”

You giggle, pressing kisses to his lips. There's still traces of you on him but you don't care.

“Can you tell me what you said again?” He asks, grin fighting to envelop his whole face.

“Huh?”

“You know, how I'm the most incredible lover in existence.” Waggling his eyebrows at you, he strokes a wayward hair off of your sweaty forehead.

“I did not say that!”

“I'm paraphrasing, it was pretty close.”

You hit him on the chest playfully and he falls to the side in a terrible act of mock pain. Crawling on top of him, you continue to smack him, fake punches thrown at his ribs.

“OK, you win, I cannot best you!”

Grabbing your hand, he kisses your knuckles and you melt against him, pressing soft kisses to his mouth. They turn harder, tongues massaging each other as he runs his hands down your back.

You break away to plant a single kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Maybe in a bit, you know, when you've… recovered…”

Dragging your nails down his lean chest you look up at him, biting your lip.

“We can… go all the way?”

Eddie's face lights up. He grabs you and flings you down so he's on top, kissing your neck and jaw sloppily as you squeal at the sudden onslaught.

“Yes, fuck yes, gimme like two minutes, five tops.”

Taglist (if you want to be added please send me a PM so I don't lose the request, thank you)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x reader #virgin!eddie #virgin eddie x virgin reader #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things fan fiction

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hairmetal666 · 4 months ago

Text

After the Russians, Steve learns three important things about himself:

Robin is the best friend he's ever had; the uncontested other half of his heart. His soulmate, the platonic love of his life, his missing puzzle piece.

He's not in love with Nancy anymore. It's really saying something that hearing those words come out of his mouth is the shock of his life. Once the drugs wear off, though, he realizes they were absolutely true. A surprising win for the Russian truth serum

Her bathroom confession...he sits with it for days. Not--not because she's a lesbian, of course not, but because. Well, Robin knows herself in a way he's never allowed himself to. And he thinks that maybe maybe he likes boys in the same way. That he always has, but never let himself acknowledge it, the way his eyes wanted to catch in the locker room, the drunken, fumbling touches between him and Tommy.

The last one...he's not sure, is the thing. How can he be sure? Like, in his mind, his imagination, he's very into it, but what if it's different in real life? And how can he even find out? He tells, Robin, of course he does, and they go to Indy, right, to a bookstore and she throws a few zines at him and he sneaks some porn (he's definitely into the porn), but that's not--it's not practical experience. And he's not ready to go to one of the bars, for sure, so he doesn't--like what's he supposed to do?

It's around this time in his bisexual spiral that the kids start hanging out with Eddie Munson, that he starts thinking about Eddie Munson. He always noticed the long, dark curls and the bright, brown eyes; the slender cut of his waist; the wry slant of his mouth as he shouted insults at the jocks; the glinting silver of the rings on his fingers--fingers that were long and callused, fingers that could grip around Steve's--

Nope, he's not going there. Even though, a little voice in his head says, he cares for Steve's kids and maybe he's not good at school but he's smart and he's also so pretty, with his pale skin and his big eyes--

No. He doesn't have a crush on Eddie Munson. Absolutely not.

And when he picks up the kids from their little dnd club and sees Munson standing against his van, he doesn't feel an electric zing in his chest, the first stirring of butterflies in his stomach; that would be crazy. They hardly know each other. It goes like this every time, and he's almost able to believe he doesn't care.

Until Eddie trips over the threshold of Family Video, stumbling on an untied bootlace and gangling his way through the front doors. The clatter catches both Robin and Steve's attention.

"Welcome to Family Video," Robin says. Steve stares.

"Uhh." Eddie's eyes flit between them, his face getting redder by the second.

Fuck, he's so cute and Steve's saying--without thinking about it, he's saying--"let me help you find a movie, man."

"Yea--sure, yeah." Eddie's hands are stuffed in the tight pocket of his jeans.

Steve takes a few steps down the closest aisle. "So, what--uh, what are you looking for?"

"Horror? Nothing in particular."

They make their way to the horror section, and it's like some insane, deeply horny demon takes over. He starts grabbing movies off the shelf, no rhyme or reason, doesn't even know what most of them are.

Eddie's staring at him with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, and Steve just keeps grabbing tapes, is sort of doing a running commentary on titles and tag lines, and he can't stop, why can't he stop? it's like smoke is coming out of his ears. Robin is watching him from the counter with her mouth hanging open, gummy worm dangling down her chin.

"You know," Eddie grabs something from the shelf, "I think I'll just do Friday the 13th again. Can't go wrong."

And he leaves Steve standing there with half the horror section collected in his arms. He stays there while Eddie pays, face burning. It's been--well, a really long time since he's struck out so hard, and he wasn't even really trying.

As Eddie's walking out the door, his sad pile of movies shifts, then tumbles to the floor.

"You have a crush on Eddie Munson." Robin accuses.

"No!" He ducks down to collect the tapes, hoping to hide the crimson of his face.

"You do." She points an accusatory finger in his direction. "I haven't seen you this pathetic since Scoops."

"It's nothing."

"You know," she crouches down with him, "you could just, like. Try to hang out with him."

"After that? Are you kidding? I'm surprised you don't already have a new You Rule/You Suck board going."

"Oh, I do, it's up front." She jumps to her feet. "But still. You should try. And you have an easy in with the kids."

He glares at her in response, starts re-shelving all the dumb movies, and then they get busy, so the topic is dropped. He thinks about it thought. He thinks about it and he--

Instead of waiting in the car for the kids to get done at Hellfire the next time, he goes in.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #robin buckley #pre-steddie #platonic stobin #ficlet #fluff #meet cute #feelings realization #steve has a crush on eddie #sexuality discovery #bisexual steve harrington #post season 3 #family video shenanigans #bisexual disaster steve harrington #the you rule you suck board returns

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aakeysmash · 6 months ago

Note

prompt here; reader going on and on about how they never find someone and bakugou is just looking at them ready to snap

hehehe love this prompt tbh 🌸

"Katsukiii," you whine, throwing yourself on your best friend, who was previously chilling on his couch. He grunts, merely acknowledging you, before pushing your head away from his chest and keeping on scrolling through his phone. You've been best friends since kindergarten, and even if you're both adults now, when you're bored you just go to each other's house to do nothing together. You find comfort in knowing you can keep on being silent together, with no type of pressure whatsoever, and no need to find topics to dwell on either. Just pure, unfiltered and plain tranquility... well, kinda. After a few moments of silence, you start poking his cheek to gain his attention.

"Keep doing that and you'll find yourself missing a finger, fucker," he tells you, side-eyeing you. You immediately see his eyes glimmering. "Look," he says, turning his phone to make you watch a tiktok about a monkey slapping a baby. He chuckles, but when he sees you're confused he mumbles something along the lines of "you're always so fucking boring," then smacks your hand away from his cheek and keeps on scrolling while frowning.

"Find me a boyfriend," you suddenly tell him.

He snaps his head toward you. He must have heard you wrong. "The fuck you said?"

You huff, getting up and pacing around the room. "I mean, you know me, right?" you ask him, looking at him expectantly.

"Damn right I do, you've been pestering me for more than two decades," he answers, rolling his eyes. He gets up too, going toward his fridge to take out a water bottle.

"Then find me a man, since you know what I like," you say, following him.

He chokes on the water he is gulping down and you have to pat his back to make him stop coughing. "Why the fuck are you searching for a man?" he raspily says, glaring at you, hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath.

"Why wouldn't I search for a man?" you ask, tilting your head a little, still massaging his back. He just stares at you for a moment, but when your expression doesn't change he just lifts a finger and points at you from head to toe.

"Are you saying I'm ugly?!" you exclaim, giving him a hard slap on the back. He coughs again, caught off guard, shaking his head.

"I need love too, you know? The few men I've been seeing in the last, I don't know, three years, were all boring as heck," you complain, going back to the couch and sprawling yourself on it. "I just wish I had a big, strong man by my side, you know? Matter of fact, keep that in mind when you search for it, okay?" you continue, face smushed on the couch pillow, looking at his still crouching figure. Then you turn your body around and stare at the ceiling. "I want someone serious who I can build my future with. I'm tired of people who only want to fuck."

"Okay dumbass, but why are you fucking searching for a man?" he asks you, ignoring the sad tilt to your voice, getting closer. He crosses his arms and looks at your face, still standing up near the couch. From this view, he looks gigantic; his bulging biceps are almost bursting out his sweater, and you feel hotter the more you look up.

"Katsuki, do you want me to punch you in the face? I'm not that ugly," you say rudely, recalling what he just said and trying to focus on the words escaping your mouth.

"I did not fucking say that, yn" the blonde barks back, the vein in his temple pulsing. You just huff, annoyed, and close your eyes.

Everything is still for a while; then you feel movement beside you before feeling one of his calloused hands on your forehead. He barely touches you, but you feel his presence. You feel he's here, next to you, warm hand on your face, thumb barely tracing little circles on it, and it calms you down. He's always had this effect on you: you remember him driving all the way to your campus while you were still in college just to curse you out for stressing too much on exams, and it always worked back then too. You lean into his touch, sighing.

"I meant to say you don't have to search for a man, men should be searching for you. And generally speaking, you wouldn't have to search for a man if you just opened your eyes a little, dumbass," he says, softer than you ever heard him being. You turn your face a bit and do as he just said, finding yourself a palm of distance from his own face.

You keep on staring at each other for what feels like hours, his hand still tracing your features and gently massaging your scalp. You don't think you've ever seen him so relaxed. You both get closer to each other, losing yourself in the moment, when-

"You mean to tell me I have a stalker?"

He pushes your face on the couch, hard, before screaming at you to get immediately out of his house. You are thrown into a fit of giggles, and before he can get up you bring him down on you.

"I guess you’re big and strong enough for me," you say, smiling.

#this was soooo cheesyyyyyyy i'm sorry ihih #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n

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ajortga · 7 months ago

Text

can you keep a secret?

pairing: wednesday addams x werewolf fem reader

summary: you miss your girlfriend who's recently transferred to nevermore academy. your persistent whining is able to transfer you to nevermore and cling onto her the whole time there.

word count: 5k+

based off request!

W and R are in a relationship, W transfers to Nevermore. W and R may not have anything in common, but they do on some things, like R being an outcast as well (a werewolf ), R insists their parents that they transfer to Nevermore too. After they successfully did, R immediately finds W, the outcast's curious to what'll happen to R (obvi doesn't know they knew each other).. Basically every student in Nevermore sees them together everyday. One, asks W who R is to W, she answers truthfully, "They're My Lover." everything and everyone just goes crazy

“Cara mia, we live next to each other,” Wednesday says softly, brushing your hair back as you braid her black silky hair.

You hum, a little sad, finishing to braid her two tiny braids that hung low to her chest.

“But I won’t see you in school, baby." A huff escapes your lips as your girlfriend sighs, giving up on trying to coax your madness.

“Or at all,” you add, “you’ll have a damn dorm with some girl that you’ve never seen before. It’s not fair.”

The raven-haired girl rolls her eyes, “I’ll cut off my heart with the sharpest knife I know if I ever started to love someone more than you,” Wednesday suggests, trying to make you feel better.

She cups your cheeks as you refuse to speak and rubs her thumb gently around the pink tint covering them. A way to always make you feel better. Yet she knows better because you certainly don’t look better.

“We’re both outcasts Weds. My stupid parents just won’t allow me to transfer because they think Nevermore is weird. Yet they went to school there. That's not fair."

“They’re just trying to protect you. I'd feel that way too for our daughter if Nevermore had hurt me. If someone ever hurt you, they’re death will be a long one. Sufferable and miserable. So bad that they’ll beg for forgiveness before they bleed out.”

Usually Wednesday would expect you to smile and giggle, but you’re not. Why does your girlfriend have to leave you?

“Can’t you stay?” You ask, voice tiny.

“As much as I sneak out, Mother has already informed everyone including your parents not to let me stay the night. They are used to my.. Tactics per say.”

Your sharp nails from your growth as a soon to be wolfed out werewolf emerges, clawing the wood you attached to your wall when this kind of stuff happens.

"I can sneak you in and I'll even build you a door in my closet," you suggest.

"No, Y/N."

"What if we install a life-like robot and I'll sneak out with you?"

"No."

You huff angrily, slashing the wood.

Wednesday firmly takes your hand, and your hand almost scratches her, yet it stops as you don’t want to hurt her, “Stop that.”

“No,” you state, tugging your hand away and sinking them into the wood, so hard that a big ass dent forms.

Your girlfriend sighs, rolling her eyes as she sweeps her bangs away from her eyes, “I don’t know what you want me to do bambina. Maybe I could.. Sneak you away from this horrid place. But at what cost? Nevermore seems strange. Not strange in a way I’d want to discover in mysteries though.”

She sees the way you sigh, disappointed. Upset.

“You’ll be there for a whole school year, it’s far.”

“I’ll bring my typewriter. Distance won’t change that, swear on my cemetery. I’ll write you letters at night, secretly take the principal's mailbox and send them to you. Or I’ll threaten Thing in my backpack and crawl till he can give it to you.” Wednesday isn’t kidding, her stare is cold, well usually it was cold, but not towards you. “He can suffer in thorns, I’ll stitch him up, just as long as.. You’ll write back?”

You nod, yet you don’t care about the letters, you care about her.

“You’ll send them?”

“Yes.”

“Every night?”

“Yes.”

“What if you begin to stop when you feel like it’s not working anymore?”

“I won’t Y/N.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do.”

"No you don't, you don't know the future."

"But I do know that I won't stop sending my letters. I can feel it."

You stop scratching the wood and you bury yourself on Wednesday, breathing in her scent as you try to comfort yourself. Yet even when the lights are off, your heart is pounding, feeling alone.

A tear falls from your cheek as you watch Lurch stuff his trunk, Wednesday talking to her mother and father, while hesitantly hugging Pugsley.

“You’ll have so much fun.” Morticia says, with a smile, kissing her cheek and staining it slightly with her black lipstick.

“Define fun as boring and a punishment, sure,” Wednesday stiffly responds, yet softens as she looks at you. She takes her mother’s hand off her shoulder and approaches you.

“If you cry, it'll be raining all day. And you don't want it to be all gloomy for you? I don't want my socks wet. A poem, along with two pages written in a small font. One to express my day, and one to express that stupid love so you can sleep peacefully at night with nightmares.” Wednesday says, stopping for a moment, “sweet nightmares,” she adds.

You nod, yet your tear stained cheeks aren’t really helping, she reaches up and wipes it off with her thumb. Then let you hug her, you immediately bury yourself into her and she sighs.

“I’ll be thinking of you, till every grain of sand can be counted.”

You watch her approach the car, then slip in. She has the window scroll down, and you look at her. As the car engine roars, you bite your lip. And slowly watch it wheel away. Slowly jogging till it’s out of sight.

It’s been two weeks. And sure enough, Wednesday has kept her promise. She’s sent you letters you’ve kept in your drawer, they’re never repetitive, but always show you love. You like it like that, knowing that it isn’t a chore for her to write letters for you. If anything, they’ve lengthened in size as she's sent more and more.

It makes you miss her a little more. You have to hug your life-sized stuffed animal at night that she sprayed her perfume on. She also left half a bottle on your counter, just in case it runs out. Though it takes longer to sleep, it makes you feel a little better knowing there was something that was like a piece of her beside you.

Thing has visited you, and you know that little guy has a huge memory. You lost the letter you were going to hand Thing, and though you were a little sad, he moved his fingers and you realized you could speak to him for hours and he would tell Wednesday every detail. She had even wrote to you,

I owe Thing a thank you, yet he can be provoking at times. He had communicated to me for an hour, thirty minutes, and thirty two seconds about your day. I always wonder what secrets lay in the Addams Family. Yet I’m not quite comprehending why Thing has a big memory space.

Nonetheless, I think about you everyday. My roommate, Enid, has been unpleasant with her interesting taste of fashion and colors. It’s distracting. In a negative way. You’re distracting in a way where I can’t take my eyes off your enticing figure Y/N. Weems had bothered me the whole day, smothered me with questions and made sure I was doing fine. No wonder why mother got along with her so much. Those two are like the same person just one with smothered ink. But, something that sparked my particular interest was that you can dorm with two other people. Thing had told me that there was an accident at your school. If you’d like, which I’d appreciate, could ask your mother about transferring, say it’s dangerous. You aren’t a late wolfer, but convince her possibly that Nevermore can increase your chances. Wish you were here, I hate Mr. Tuesday. That white bunny is always staring at me during my typing time. But I can tolerate him a bit more, knowing you gifted it to me. You love Mr. Tuesday, so I appreciate your gesture. It’s not often I get visions, but they’ve almost made me want to experience them more. I see you in them, baking. Writing to me. It makes me almost happy.

Enid keeps trying to get to know me, she’s a strange soul, but she’s a werewolf, like you. You two are nothing alike, yet I think you two would get along a bit too much. Except you don’t blast random glitter pop music during the night. During my WRITING TIME. Even thinking about it rots my brain. But I miss you cariño. Sleep tight, I’ve left at least 300 things to hide in your house and you’ll never expect where they are. But everyone is special, it’ll make you at least smile a little when I tell you each night. Today’s item is snuck inside your bed, I used Mother’s chainsaw to cut through the wood, it’s a tiny version of Mr. Tuesday. I asked Thing the other day to sneak it in that spot and he sanded the wood back in. It should be a sort of door. But I crocheted it during my free time, there are times where I can’t think during my writing time. That is an understatement, but I only think of you. But I’m hoping you can enjoy it for today.

Love you, sleep cozily,

Weds

You smile as you look under your bed, now noticing the small outline from Wednesday’s chainsaw and you open the little compartment to see another crocheted white bunny of Mr. Tuesday. You nuzzle it and place it on your desk. You love him. You even spent a few minutes grabbing white yarn and attaching it to your tote bag.

You think about what Wednesday said, someone had gotten hurt in your school from being stabbed by a senior that was drunk. Obviously he didn’t mean it. But you had seen how anxious your mom got when she found out the news.

It was 11:23PM, and your mom’s room light was illuminated from the hallway. You get out of bed, ruffle your hair, and approach her room. Your only thought is Wednesday.

Before you could even ask, you already noticed her holding a black card, the logo of Nevermore Academy apparent. It said in bolded letters, 1965 Jericho’s long lasting Nevermore Academy. One for outcasts.

“Mom?” You said, your voice slowly quiet, and she looked up at you, waving you over.

“Hi honey,” she replies, “I’ve been thinking about the accident at your school. And I know you don’t like that place that much. And as much as I feel like I should keep you there. Your safety is important to me.”

Your excitement grows, you want to have that wide smile off your face.

“So?...” You question, wondering if she was saying what you were thinking she meant.

“And you keep bringing Wednesday up. So me and Morticia talked, and I talked with your father. We’re going to send you to Nevermore, but only if you want to. As long as you write to us every end of the week and call us. We want our little wolf to meet ones like her. It’s not often you find ones like us here.”

You nod.

“Yes!”

You didn't even think it would be that easy.

As soon as you get the news you squeal and call Wednesday early in the morning. She responds almost quickly, her voice on the other line, “What brings you to call me this early Y/N?”

“I’m transferring to Nevermore!” You say, you were much more excited but your tired voice betrayed you.

There’s a pause, then a small, “What?”

“I’m coming!”

A laugh and you can almost feel your girlfriend smiling with a toothy grin with her ear pressed to the phone.

“I knew your parents would let you go somehow,” she says, voice more excited, yet anyone else would not notice but you.

You can hear some rustling, “I’m going to ask Weems if you can dorm with me. I can kick Enid out for all I care, yet she isn’t horrible. Just, I’d rather spend it with you if she doesn’t allow a three dorm. Maybe I shouldn’t bring up a three dorm at all.”

“Thing, go back home and ask Father if Lurch can drive Y/N to Nevermore. Actually, include that if he won’t ask, I’ll shave his head off. Also make sure that he sprays two times of her favorite perfume, have her favorite sour candy ready, her headphones, her books, and tell him to pack some melon milk for her too. And her cow stuffie. Make sure he’s playing the playlist she made that’s saved in the car.”

There is a pause, and she makes a small, ‘oh oh’

“Baby,” Wednesday doesn’t call you that much, but when she does you’re over the moon. It usually shows that she’s happy. Really happy, yet her voice is still soft and composed, “I installed a door behind your clothes in your closet, guess we’ll unwrap the 300 presents when we go home. But I got another Mr. Tuesday there, he has some sort of costume on.”

She pauses, you hear a random girl jumping up and down in the background, squealing about something as your girlfriend groans and presses her ear back into her phone, sending Enid an annoyed glare, “Pack your stuff, I’ll be waiting. I might as well cut my ears off if Enid won’t stop blabbing her mouth off.” You can tell that Wednesday turns her head to face her new roommate, she says louder, since Enid couldn’t hear her talking to you, “Better yet, slice her mouth off.” Then Enid’s squeals die down.

You grin through the phone as you grab out another version of Mr. Tuesday with a mushroom hat, you hug him tight.

The doorbell rings and you hear your mom open it, putting Wednesday on speaker phone.

“I’m almost done packing.”

“Y/N, honey. Mrs. Addams requests to see you,” your mother’s voice echoes through the hallway and you glance at the door.

You don’t know how Wednesday can hear it but she does, “I’m taking into conclusion that she received my message. Oh yes, she replied with those stupid icons. Yet it is one of a thorny rose and a gravestone.”

“Coming!” You stuff your bags, “Be right back.”

You almost choke as Morticia brings you into her embrace, hugging her back with an easing gentleness.

“Hello little one,” her soft voice says, the one you find comfort in as much as you do Wednesday’s. She gently rubs your hair, “I informed Lurch for your arrival, he’s outside whenever you’ll be ready dear. I’m so glad you decided to willingly join Nevermore. It has been a place that holds many memories. It’s where I met Gomez and fell in love. Maybe Wednesday and you can find the secrets in it. Go on journeys with her. Dig some graves, set them on fire."

It weird you out, but you smile, nodding, “To spend it with Wednesday is all I need.”

“You’re a special soul, a pure heart I can handle. Now go,” she waves you away, “Don’t keep him waiting for long.”

You give her one last grin and look over your shoulder before turning the corner.

After hanging up on Wednesday when you finish packing all your bags, your mother and father hug you goodbye and give you your favorite cranberry juice. Sweet.

It’s cozy in the Addams car, comfortingly with no talk, just the music Wednesday requested (forced) Lurch to play that lingers in your playlist. You feel like a butler with all the requests Wednesday smothered him with.

An hour passes and you can see the way the clouds slightly come into view, then you see the environment change as a sign that reads, “Welcome to Jericho! A Town of History”

Then, you finally see the academy in view, and Lurch arrives right in front, before taking your bags and guiding you to Principal Weems.

“It is my honor to have you here at Nevermore. This school has history, and where you’ll certainly grow,” her smile is wide, a little too welcoming it gets a little scary.

You just give small mumbles and nods, “Well, Morticia called me this morning and I quickly looked through your demographics. It also isn’t a coincidence that you have straight A’s. A 4.3 GPA. Many extracurriculars, and of course, you’re a werewolf. I see.”

“It is no surprise also that you had gone to the same school as another student who just enrolled, Morticia’s daughter, Wednesday. She sure is.. Different. But nonetheless talented. She had asked me yesterday afternoon if it was possible to have a dorm of three, and I’m assuming that you have been planning to dorm with her for the rest of the semester?”

She reads your mind, you immediately nod your head up and down, “Yes.”

“Well, most of the 3 dorms have been occupied, but her and Enid seem to have a slow relationship. I’ll have her in my office today, but by the end of the night or tomorrow morning I’ll give you my answer.” Weems scribbles on a note, writes some address and a name, “You’ll be rooming with Yoko, sound okay?”

You nod.

“Alright, I’ll call Enid up, for your guide.”

“..Guide?”

She nods, “Of course, we have many classes you can do, and people you can meet. She knows this place well, and I know that she’ll open up your shell.”

As Wednesday watches Enid leave, a soft grin forms on her face as she unties Thing from the random crocheted pink jacket Enid made for him.

Her eyes scan Enid as the door closes, then she turns to him, “I’m expecting Y/N is here. I’ve crocheted a questionable amount of Mr. Tuesdays.” She informs, “I shouldn’t have admitted that,” Wednesday sighs, as she pulls out the drawer next to her to reveal at least 40 assorted sizes of the same bunny. There were some in outfits, wigs. Wednesday almost finds it as therapeutic as her writing time. She crochets them whenever Enid leaves their dorm.

Thing smacks his head, and the braided girl glares at him, “Don’t judge me, I can cut off your fingers any time,” she threatens, seeing the way Thing surrendered with two fingers up in the air.

Then he moves around his fingers and does random hand movements.

“You think I’d follow Enid and try to make conversation with Y/N so much that Enid will get suspicious? You’d really think I’d do that?”

Thing agrees.

“Then, you know me too well, let’s go.”

“Enid, glad you’re- Wednesday? It seems like you’ve tagged along,” Weems adds as she almost seems surprised, looking at her. If anything, the look in her eye is cautious.

“Yes,” Wednesday responds, trying to avoid the way your eyes almost smile as you look at her, but if anyone else were to look at you, they wouldn’t notice. “I’ve decided to accompany Enid, this is much more exciting than some other events at Nevermore,” she adds again, not entirely rude.

You sit in the middle while Wednesday takes the only left seat available, scooches her chair closer. Her hand rubs over yours after meeting under the covers of Weem’s desk. She takes note of how a small smile creeps on your face when Weem talks because of that.

“This is actually so awesome,” the blonde cheers next to you, making you turn your head and turn it, confused.

“We’re both werewolves silly! We should dorm 3 together! Wait, are there even any 3 dorms left?” When the principal shakes her head no, Enid sighs, “Then Wednesday can pair with Yoko. Actually, she barely even talks to Yoko, let alone handle her better than she’ll be able to handle me.”

You blink, glance at Wednesday for a moment and she shakes her head frantically.

“What if I dorm with her?”

The question leaves everyone silent, well everyone is surprised but Wednesday.

“You’d want to room with Wednesday while Enid rooms with Yoko?”

There's a lingering silence as you look around, “Why not? I'd like to get to know her better,” you lie. The most you want to do is get to talk to your girlfriend again.

"Oh. You don't want to, you know, get to know Wednesday before actually having to dorm with her?"

"Nope."

"Well, then that’s settled for your dorm. I’ll have to file Enid for a dorm change. But I’d like to ask if that is okay for both Wednesday and Enid.”

“Yes,” your girlfriend immediately responds, then coughs a little to cover up her excitement that’s masked behind her calm demeanor. “I can take a break from someone that is the complete opposite of me.

“I’d be happy to dorm with Yoko, at least I can have my music playing at night and my glitter-”

“My ears are bleeding Enid, don’t mention that word you just said.”

“Glitter?” Enid questions.

“No.”

You giggle from your girlfriend’s demeanor, squeezing her hand under the desk.

“This is Ophiela Hall! You don’t need to find your people here, you can make plenty of friends in other groups, but you have a group of werewolves! And what makes it even better is that we haven’t wolfed out!” Enid jumps up and down and you watch her legs bounce up and down, up and down. She’s like a whole party.

People give you two small looks, both you and Wednesday can tell they’re almost surprised she tagged along with someone whos new. It makes you smile a little.

Your girlfriend notices them whispering about you. Not anything bad, you seem like the sweetest person out of them all, but they’re whispering about the two of you. Even Bianca gives you a cautious look, but you’re too distracted to know what their saying as Enid keeps talking to you and dragging you along. Wednesday follows like a puppy.

“Enid, hey.” A boy speaks up, and you turn around at the new voice, he’s wearing blue and a beanie. The same tie everyone is wearing.

“Oh hi Ajax, this is Y/N. She’s new and I’m showing her around.”

A glare is thrown at Ajax as your girlfriend exhales. You give a small wave, “Hi.”

“You a werewolf too?”

You nod, seeing the way his hat kind of turns sideways, poking some peeking out snakes back into it. That’s scary.

The bell rings and you look around, confused, Enid grabs the paper you stuck in your bag.

“Oh, hey! Your next class is with Wednesday and I, it’s just plant anatomy with Thornhill. Come on.”

Somehow Wednesday gets Xaiver to move away from her, so now you’re sitting next to her.

“What the hell is this class?”

“Thornhill just talks about plants. The only entertaining aspect of this is that I like seeing Bianca fail to beat me. Though that goes in almost everything.”

The auburn hair girl turns around, with a wide smile and fairly big glasses for the size of her head.

“It’s a pleasure to have a new student, I’m glad to have you in our third period class Y/N.”

You embarrassingly smile, everyone looking at you, some with smiles and some with just small glances.

“Could you give us the formula on how to turn this plant into a…” Thornhill goes on and you look at the plant, it seems it’s a Ghost Orchid.

You answer almost immediately, and Wednesday nudges you with her foot to almost say a ‘yay.’

Bianca stares at you as Thronhill clasps her hands together, “Exactly, you know your plants well. I’m sure you’ll excel here. Today we’ll have a change of assignments. It’ll be a challenge for duos against other duos and whoever answers first, and correctly for that fact, will earn a point till all the questions run out. Sound easy enough? Alright, let me get my cards ready.”

A knowing smirk grows in between you two, “We’ll win in no time,” Wednesday states, you look at the duos. It’s you and her, Enid and Yoko, Bianca and Divina, and other people you have no clue about, including Xaiver.

The game starts and before Thornhill can even get to the end of the question, you and Wednesday slap the bell, giving out the answer.

“Quick hands,” Xavier mumbles.

“That’s correct! Great job girls.”

The game goes on, and you’re tied with Bianca’s team. The silence can be cut with a knife as the two duos anticipately wait for the question. As Thornhill begins to read out the question, it takes you two a while to know the answer. Bianca and Divina seem stuck.

It’s several moments before the learning in your past catches up to you, slamming the bell and saying out the answer.

“Correct once again! You two win, great job! You can grab a succulent or stick to two pieces of candy that’s probably expired at the end of class.”

You and Wednesday high-five and to say the least, everyone is surprised because the braided-hair girl never let’s anyone touch her.

Weeks have past, and you’ve never been happier. Giving ideas for Wednesday’s stories that even she never thought about, helping her crochet more Mr. Tuesdays, so much that she had thing steal a laundry basket from Weem’s office, and even braid her hair and put black ribbons. She’s grateful to have you at Nevermore, her stories have been expanding because of you.

Your always stuck to her side, fencing playfully with her, even willing to go out in the woods with her. But she hasn’t went out since your arrival, knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave her side, and she certainly doesn’t want you getting hurt.

Even you and her worked together designing a matching cat on your black and white pajamas.

It’s fun when you two get to talk about life when you two are in your dorms, even better when you two are on the balcony and watching the stars. Wednesday plays the cello while you sing. She loves that she has someone that she puts her closed-off personality aside for.

“I love it, you look so pretty with bows baby,” you say, tying the ribbon.

“You look pretty with bows or without cara mia.”

“Shut ‘p,” you say, smacking her arm lightly as she wraps her arms around you and rubs your hair.

It’s not long till Weems announce that it’s time for lunch.

Wednesday gets up, signalling you to come with her, but when you don’t, she comes back to sit next to you.

“I’m just looking for my necklace, you can go ahead, it won’t take long, promise.”

She sighs, and nods for a moment, then points at Thing, “Help her.”

Thing waves his hands as she blows a soft air kiss and closes the door.

It’s sprinkling a little bit when Wednesday is outside.

“How does Wednesday act so non-hazardous with Y/N? It’s honestly impressive.”

“That’s not impressive, how the hell does she not smack her or give her glares? Do you not see the way her eyes actually look normal when she looks at her? Not even normal, they’re gentle! Plus she was the first to go run and get a bandaid when Y/N accidentally got a paper cut.”

It’s like they summoned the girl, who’s holding a plate of her lunch.

Enid smiles and Wednesday sits down, looking at everyone.

“Are you seriously speaking about me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We want to know why the hell you are actually sweet with Y/N.”

“You could’ve used any word besides sweet.”

“Baby-like?”

“Even worse.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” Bianca adds, somehow now being in this conversation, “You killed the biggest spider that was crawling to her, for her.”

“She doesn’t like spiders. Who wouldn’t use not being afraid of spiders to protect someone who is?”

Bianca blinks, then wrinkles her nose, “If it was me you’d certainly let it bite me.”

“Well that’s different.”

Everyone at the table groans, “Exactly!”

“What did I tell you?”

“The only person you’d not let it bite is Y/N, we just want to know why.”

“I’m protecting her because she’s my girlfriend.”

Everyone turns their head to her, “What?”

Enid slams her fists to the table, “I fucking knew it. I knew it! Ajax, you owe me five dollars. I CALLED IT.”

“The Wednesday Addams actually has a girlfriend?”

“Why didn’t we catch on?”

“They’re kinda cute together- don’t even speak or she’ll actually cut your head off if you say cute.”

Everyone is arguing with each other, going crazy. But by the time they cool down and look at where Wednesday was sitting, her seat is empty.

Then everyone looks around and sees her draping her black jacket over your tiny figure, she pulls you closer to her chest as you hold onto her. (Let’s say she’s atleast 4 inches taller than 5’1 in this.) You tug her big jacket over your shoulders as you hug her. She holds onto you and guides you to the table, kissing your forehead and brushing your damp hair.

Even when she comes back, she bends down and takes the butterfly that’s resting on your hair and places it on your hand. “I heard somewhere that if a butterfly lands on you, it means that they see you as a beautiful flower.”

“I never heard that before.”

“I know, I made that up.”

Everyone starts screaming again, making your girlfriend and your heads snap at them.

“Look at them!”

“Aw! So cute!”

“I want to say this is disgusting but they’ll be my roman empire soon enough.”

You turn back to her, seeing her eyes soften, almost happily, "You told them?”

“I didn’t know why they didn’t conclude to that in the beginning.”

Bianca groans, rolling her eyes as everyone is screaming, then Xavier chimes in. "Back to that spider scenario. I definitely think Wednesday would kill it for me."

You glare at him, clinging onto your girlfriend a little more like a koala. She rubs your back as you tighten your arms around her.

"Your sense of self-love is filled with stupidity. I'd kill the spiders that are harmless to you and leave the ones that are most venomous and ugly looking for people like you, have some respect."

Xavier goes quiet, making a defeated grunt.

Everyone does their little, 'awws' again. You turn to her, now that everyone knows about your status.

“At least we can kiss in the hallways?”

“Maybe save that for the dorms.”

“Can we kiss right now?”

Wednesday’s eyebrows lift up, and she sighs, turning you away from the group and giving you a light kiss, as your lips press together, she nudges a small Mr. Tuesday now with inverted colors, a black bunny. They're both holding hearts and have a star over their head.

"Now Mr. Tuesday has a Mr. Wednesday," she says softly, tucking her black jacket tighter around you as you continue hugging her.

"And Miss. Y/L/N has a Miss. Addams."

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega imagine #vada cavell x reader #tara carpenter x you #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader

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seungfl0wer · 25 days ago

Text

*𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝑴𝒚 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆*

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Demon!Hyunjin, Whitch?Reader, Slight hair pulling, tiniest degrading, Creampie, Unprotected Sex. Sorry for any missing warnings or mistakes

Find The Halloween Master List Here

-🎃

This partnership has been going on for a while now. Ever since you summoned the demon the first time he’s always the one you call for when you need the help. “Can you summon someone else for a change” he’d say rolling his eyes as he’d help you. It all started when you wanted revenge on an ex of yours. Since then whenever you needed something for a spell or just wanted to bother him you’d summon him.

Today was one of those days, you needed a specific book and who else but to help you? With a poof of soft black smoke the demon appeared “uugh i was about to take a nap, what do you want now?” He said annoyed. However you just rolled your eyes at his tone before pointing to the picture of the book

“Have you seen this? Can you get it for me? Please” you asked with big eyes.

He stared at you for a second “no.” He said plain and simple.

“Please! Pleeeease” you whined out grabbing at his arm. You knew what he wanted though. “If you do we can-“ you started to say before he cut you off.

“If I get it for you, you can’t call on me for a week.” He said crossing his arms.

You huffed a bit sad at his ask but nodded “fine, deal. But don’t come crying to me when you miss me or I find someone else to help me” you said with a pout.

He rolled his eyes and yawned, with a flick of his hand the book appeared in the same blackish smoke. “Here. Now leave me alone for the week.” He said before poofing away.

You sighed as you read over the book, you found an interesting page with a man who looked familiar until you read it. The demon “Hwang Hyunjin” is a powerful demon, who makes deals with others. He can be a trickster however he is quite hard to summon.” The page went on about him and you remembered something your mother had told you. “Find out a demons name is a big thing, depending on the demon they will be almost bound to you. Their name gives you a lot of power over them.”

With a devilish grin you waited for that week to be up. Hyunjin however was cracking at the end of it. He won’t ever admit it but he enjoys your company. He enjoys the time he spends with you especially the time you’re both tangled in each other. Sex with other demons isn’t as good as it is with you, his soft submissive human. Was it because you were a human though? That’s what he says but deep down he knows it’s because of the connection you both have made over the years of working together. The way you don’t treat him like some monster or god.

When the week was up and you didn’t summon him right away he groaned. It irritated him how much he missed you. Little did he know though you had hatched an evil plan you were about to kick off. It’s been a little over a week since you summoned him last, to his happiness though he poofed in your room pretty late.

“Surprised you didn’t summon me sooner” he said with a chuckle.

“Well I just need your opinion.” You said with a grin. “Wait here” you said before walking into your bathroom.

As he sat there bouncing his leg in ‘annoyance’ before you came back out. His eyes went big as his mouth dropped a bit. You came out in a skin tight black dress, pretty red heals with a pretty red lip.

“Think this looks good?” You say with a little twirl.

He shakes his head a bit as to snap himself out of the trance you have him in. “Uh y-yeah I guess?” He tried playing it off.

You rolled your eyes “you’re not much help, thanks though I guess. That’s all I needed” you said before giving him a wave. He didn’t move though he sat there almost dumbfounded.

“What you dressed up for?” He asked.

“Oh I have a date, just wanted to make sure I look fuckable” you said with a smirk.

“Date? Someone’s dumb enough to date you?” He teased but you could hear the venom in his voice.

“Someone’s lucky enough to have me ride them through the night” you said as you looked for something purposely bending over near him.

“If you just needed a fuck, why didn’t you just ask?” He said his hands coming up to grab your hips, he quickly pulled you down to his lap.

“Hey!” You squealed out as his hands trapped you there. “You’re the one that doesn’t like me calling you, so I figured I’d start dating so I wouldn’t bother you as much.” You said trying to pull yourself up “now let me go so I can finish getting ready.”

He scoffed turning your body to him to meet his eyes. “You’re not going anywhere especially not on a fucking date with someone who’s not even gonna be able to make you cum” he hissed. You went to pull away again before he brought his hands up to your face pulling you into a hungry kiss. His tongue wrestled with yours, a hand slinking its way down your body trying to pull up the dress. When he got it up enough he let out a feverish growl feeling you didn’t have any panties on. “What a little slut” he said nipping at your bottom lip.

You were still trying to keep up the act pouting when he pulled away from you “can’t help it when someone doesn’t like being around me” you said.

“If you’re trying to get me to say I like being around you, you can forget it” he growled.

When you pulled away trying to stand up his hands dug into your hip pulling you back down. “Knock it off, you aren’t going to go with some damn loser when I’m here” he said.

Before you knew it he was pulling his pants down pressing your naked cunt against his cock. He kissed you again as he moved you against him. His cock head hitting against your clit perfectly. You moaned softly into the kiss letting his tongue explore deeper into your mouth. “God you’re dripping all over me” he said with a groan. He brought his hand down to play with your clit as he kissed down your jaw to your neck. He nipped at it sucking dark marks on it. “Even if you go on a date they’ll know you’re taken, they’ll know you’re mine” he snarled.

Your plan was working well, he’s never been this possessive never caring really what you do. You had him in your hand and you still had your master plan waiting to be released. “F-fuck” you moaned out moving your hips against his finger and his cock. Your juices coating his cock so perfectly. He gripped your hips with his free hand moving you back as the tip caught against your entrance. “Need inside you, I need to feel you cum around me” he said before pushing into you.

Your body pressed against his as you moaned out “ride me, ride me like you wanted to with your stupid date!” He growled out moving your hips down on his length. You leaned back a little trying to get your balance before you started to bounce on him. Moving your hips up and down his hands gripping at you as you took him all in. His head fell back as he moaned loudly feeling your warm walls clenching around him. “M’close” you moaned out making him smirk.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock hmm?” He said his hand coming to play with you clit once again. Your body twitched at the feeling legs becoming a bit shaky. “H-hyunjin!” You moaned out cumming hard around his cock. As the name left your mouth his body stuttered under you. “What did you just say?” His eyes were wide, pupils completely blown out.

“I-“ you started to say before he started moving fast. He pushed your body the whole way down bottoming out completely. He was fucking into you so fast, balls hitting against you the sound of your wetness mixing with it. “Say it again!” He howled out. “Fucking say my name again!” He said grabbing the back of your hair pulling it making you keep eye contact with him.

“HYUNJIN!” You all but screamed out feeling another orgasm about to wash over you. Hyunjin became a beasts of a man, his whole eyes was pitch black, his cock somehow feeling bigger as he fucked into you mercilessly. His cock hit your cervix leaking precum as his high was approaching too. His movements were too much for you, his fingers still relentless at your clit. “Say it, say it while you cum. Whose cock are you cumming on huh? Fuck- Fucking say it again!” His voice deep.

Your eyes rolled back feeling him cumming deep inside you, your orgasm coming over you at the same time. “Hyunjin- Hyunjin!” You repeated. He pulled your body to him wrapping his arms around you his hips still slowly moving in you. “Y/n” he said softly. “When did you? How did you?” He started to ask. And all you could really muster up was “the book” he nodded holding you against him as you both tried catching your breath.

“You know it gives you a lot of power over me. Like basically ownership.” He said.

You nodded “yeah”

He breathed out “did you actually have a date tonight?” He asked.

You shook your head “no. Just wanted you.” You said sheepishly hiding your face into his chest.

He chuckled a bit “you can just ask dummy”

You shook your head “didn’t wanna bother you..”

He let out a sigh before lifting your face up to look at him “y/n I help you out of my own will, I could fuck you over at any point. But I don’t. You should know I don’t mind”

You looked over his face a soft blush forming on yours “isn’t it stupid to have feelings for a demon?” You said softly.

He shook his head “nope, just don’t tell anyone I have feelings for a human” he teased before kissing you. “Make sure you don’t tell anyone my name though got it?” He said with a smile.

“I’d never, you’re all mine” you said kissing his nose.

“Good cause I wouldn’t want it any other way” he said with a big grin.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List. Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Halloween Taglist: @ldysmfrst @kissesmellow21 @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 4 months ago

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Yandere Hitman // Accident

Imagine you wake up tied to a chair ducktape over your mouth and the weight of gravity weighing on your chest. Finally gaining your bearings you realize you are haphazardly hanging from a rickety-looking bridge above a raging river by a man in a black compression shirt a bored look on his face and a phone to his ear. You don’t try to struggle only watching wide-eyed as you hope this Hitman doesn’t drop you

“Really…the wrong one? Fine, I’ll figure it out.”

Breathing is so much easier when he pulls you from the edge with one hand by the way. He doesn’t untie you sighing exasperatedly while running a hand through his hair. Finally, he takes the ducktape off your mouth waving off your barrage of questions.

“Look things happened and I was supposed to kill someone who looks a lot like you but not.”

“So you're a hitman and you made a mistake?”

“Yup.”

“Are you going to kill me for knowing you then?”

“I don’t have to.”

“Then can I go home?”

“Er no.”

“Because I’m going to talk?”

“No more like you wouldn’t be able to get into the country anyway.”

Turns out the hitman who happened to target you was incredibly too thorough and ended up burning your ID, crafting up a reasonable missing persons case for you, and making it hard for you to do anything in the country that you can’t properly even find on a map. So to combat the absolute mess of having to go through all the legalese and interrogation you’d go through to get back to your life he comes up with his solution.

“How about you just stay with me? I’ve got more than enough room.”

And he does. It's a place that’s like a small castle, he reasons it’s best that you just help clean the place and maybe make a meal or two. You accept not that you had any other choice at this point so he’ll untie you and take you there. Wherever this backwater country is he’s got a home filled with villagers who are happy to care for it. And in a language you don’t recognize they celebrate it when he brings you home, cheering and excitedly holding your hands. He can’t help but laugh at you while you try to figure things out.

“Hey! What was she saying before?”

“You really shouldn’t just blindly nod to what people are saying. That’s what gets you in trouble.”

“What else am I supposed to do?! She was smiling so wide it must’ve been something nice, right?”

“Hahaha, you're hopelessly adorable.”

When this Hitman is not sitting around laughing at you or mistranslating your requests, he’s not so bad. As the only one who understands what you’re saying and can actually respond to you in a rewarding way. Dismissing that he ruined your everyday life, he’s decent company usually smirking to himself while he makes fun of whatever you're doing.

“That hat is way too big for you and so are your clothes. It’s kinda cute.”

“It’s not cute! For whatever reason nobody will give me anything other than your clothes it’s really inconvenient.”

“How do you know they're mine?”

“Because they smell like–”

“Awwww are you smelling me in your free time (Y/n)?”

“NO! Wait it’s just an observation—”

“Ewww so perverted (Y/n)~”

When he’s not around to mess with you, he’s off to work. Wearing those same tight-fitted pants he did when you first woke up. It’s…a little sad sometimes. He is the only one you can easily communicate with but you manage to enjoy the thousands of books he has in his home, hang out with the kittens of the farm, and slowly but surely get a grasp on the language all the villagers speak. Maybe one day you can surprise him by being able to call him out the next time he tries to humiliate you to the villagers. It certainly keeps you occupied from thinking about going home anytime soon.

“That’s another body in the ground. Where’s my money?”

The hitman once again casually dismembers another target for his client, taking a quick picture before hurrying to the store. You did say you were a fan of a certain gaming system, he’s got more than enough to spend now that he’s completed another job. Not that he really needed to that amount he had could very well pay for the entire lives of generations to come. That is if he hasn’t budgeted for a luxurious life with you.

“Mmm, which one should I get? Hmm?”

“Oh, are you interested in some of our AAA titles?”

“Not for me but for my partner….I’m just worried they’ll leave me and our kids out while playing.”

“Well if you like we have some lighthearted multiplayer games.”

“That’s perfect!”

He does plan as though you already have kids. He doesn’t need to know if you two will conceive with him or adopt but it doesn’t matter it’s happening. Because to him, you two are already bound to be happily married—all according to his plan. He’s just glad it’s going off so far without a hitch.

“Hi I’m back!”

“Welcome welcome hope everything went well for you chief!”

“How are their studies coming?”

“Decent but they’ll never fully be able to grasp the codes, just as you planned.”

“Perfect. (Y/n) they’re saying you should be the one to massage me this time.”

“What?! There is no way they said that.”

Your hitman’s greatest power is his nonchalant attitude. It’s what allows you to accept that it was his carelessness that led to you being targeted in the first place. It’s what have you not looking twice when ‘the villager’ demands you both feed each other. It might take a while before you fully become the you–he envisioned in his plans but he can wait.

After all your hitman’s waited this long. He doesn’t mind waiting a little more.

“Don’t think too much and let’s just let fate that I’ve chosen decide.”

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enwoso · 2 months ago

Text

PINK SKIES — alessia russo

this has been in the works for a few months, just didn’t know when or if i wanted to post it as it involved quite a sensitive topic, and a topic which should be addressed in a very mature way.

this is also a topic which i hold very dear to my heart and is quite personal to me, especially since i lost someone very special to me in a similar way but i just wanted to share this as a way to raise awareness especially with september being dedicated to suicide prevention month but just you know you are appreciated, you are worth it and that there are people out there who can help and support you. please, you are not alone.🤍

WARNING: mentions of death, allusions of sui**de and just upsetting themes! please do not read if any of these topics are sensitive to you.

"thought i'd find you here" lotte cooed as she stood with a sad smile, a few metres away from alessia whom was sat on the kerbside, only the streetlight to keep her company as the sky merged into a darker, gloomier colour.

alessia turned to look at the girl she'd known her entire life, before turning back to look at what was in her hands. a crumpled piece of paper with neat hand writing on it. a piece of paper which had not left her hands all day.

alessia didn't say anything instead her fingers just toyed with the piece of paper, tears falling down her cheeks. lotte made her way cautiously towards the blonde slotting down on the kerbside next to her, placing an arm around her. alessia’s head immediately landing on the girls shoulder.

it had been a long day. goodbyes are hard. especially last goodbyes, they sting the most and leave this feeling in your heart that never seems to go away.

"it's okay, less. she had a beautiful send off" lotte whispered as she let the blonde cry in her arms knowing that this had been building all day.

"i miss her lotte..." alessia choked out sniffles escaping her as tears streamed down her face and onto the piece of paper as she felt lotte nod pulling alessia closer to her.

"i know less and that's normal- but she wouldn't want you to be sat on the kerb crying" lotte sympathised as alessia nodded lightly. she knew you wouldn't want her to be sat on the kerb, heck she knew you would have wanted a big send off like the one that had been done for you.

but grief doesn't work in the way alessia imagined. its not a straight line, there's no formula to it. it's a mess.

some days the blonde feels as though your still beside her, joking about her tripping over thin air. but other days it hits alessia and she feels all those raw emotions all at once, again.

"i- i just wish she was here- she had so much still to live for.." alessia choked out once again, her words forming into one it barely being able to be understood but lotte did. she knew what alessia meant.

you and alessia hadn't known each other very long. you of course knew of each other but that was it. just shadows in the background of the others life.

it was an england camp which brought you together, one simple conversation and it changed alessia's life forever.

a silly conversation about different types of cookies and how your favourite was jammy dodgers as you would eat around the rim and then eat the jam center — alessia thought it was the funniest thing and was always in stitches watching you eat them that way.

but she was the type of person you just clicked with. no effort was needed. the type of friend you make and then don't remember how the first interaction went.

you just went from one day being total strangers to the next being the best of friends.

“and now you have to live for her, remember the good less.” lotte tried as alessia shook her head the peice of paper still clutching to her hand.

“no lotte, i just feel like i failed her. she was my best friend how could i have let this happen, i could have helped her, done something and maybe this wouldn’t have happened,, i could-“ alessia rambled out as lotte just the let the blonde do it her cheeks tears stained as her mascara had smudged under her eyes, the blonde moving her head from resting on lotte’s shoulder.

both lotte and alessia knew there was nothing that could have been done to help you. nobody could have even noticed that you were struggled never mind how bad your mental state was.

you had been estatic finding out that alessia was moving to london and more specifically to arsenal. it meant no more countdowns to when you’d next see each other, it meant you didn’t need to sit on a train for three hours again. it meant you could see each other any time you wanted.

alessia would forever remember the excitement in your voice when she picked up her phone.

"your actually coming to london!"

"yeah i am! we are gonna be in london together!”

"i can't wait to spend every day with you less"

"me neither y/n, me neither."

or how the two of you spent the next two hours on call with each other as you listed all the places you were going to show her, the local cafe where you went for your morning coffee before training, the park where you walked your mum’s dog — rocco every day, the restaurant you always went with your sister when she came to visit.

alessia eventually making the move to arsenal after a bittersweet summer in australia not being able to come away with the world cup win but neverless having an unforgettable summer spent by your best friends side.

both you and alessia's focus moving towards the start of the new season, while also fitting in all the places you wanted to show alessia in the weekends which you had off which came few and thin.

everything in alessia's eyes was perfect, she was living in london with her best friend, she was closer to her family and she was getting to play football with her best friends day in and out.

but for you it couldn't have been further from that.

after the world cup getting back into the next season was tough for you, going from match to match without a break was hard. some weeks you were playing ninety minutes, twice a week. you were getting pushed to your limits.

you mental health had begun to take a toll, social media trolls were getting to you, one miss kick in a match and you had a huge target on your back and were the victim of online abuse. you weren't the perfect angel who was seen as a hero if you scored a goal and could do no wrong in the team.

if you scored the response was why are you not doing it every game?

if you defended well the obvious response was that's the bare minimum, that's your job as a defender.

if the team conceded it was your fault.

if you got into the england squad the response was you had taken away from someone else who actually deserved it.

in the eyes of the public you could do no right.

but no one could see you were mentally and physically struggling, your teammates thought you had just learned to not care what the public said about you on social media or thought you hadn't seen it but in reality you had probably seen it long before they did.

in videos and in real life you never didn't have a smile on your face and one thing you never stopped doing was sitting with alessia and laughing about nothing.

but at home when you were alone, your mind ate away at you. letting yourself truly believe that what people were saying online was the person you were.

“i’m so stupid though i should have noticed the signs, how she wasn’t herself” alessia carried on her rant to lotte as lotte listened. that’s what alessia needed right now, is to let it all out as alessia continued.

“less, there was nothing you could do” lotte cooed, another sniffle coming from alessia as she kicked the stones underneath her feet.

a silence filled the gap, not an awkward one but the silence could definitely be felt. the slight wind that followed as the street grew darker, behind the building where the reception was happening with all your family and friends were.

“what’s that?” lotte questioned, pointing towards the piece of paper that she’d noticed alessia carrying all day. it never leaving the blondes hand during the entire service and reception afterwards.

alessia looked down at it, a sad smile on her face as she did. “a letter..” alessia paused, “y/n wrote before she um, you know.. died.”

a change in look come from lotte as her facial expression changed, it sunk a little deeper. lotte didn’t pry though she knew that whatever had been written in that letter was personal, it wasn’t her business to know. if alessia wanted her to know alessia would tell her off her own back.

“i found it in her room when i was going through her things in her apartment-“ alessia spoke, pausing to take a deep breath, her mind building the picture of her walking through your apartment for the last time. how strange it felt. how empty it felt.

alessia continued, “it was weird lotte, it was like she had never been there- the walls, the drawers.. they were bare, like she never even been there before.”

lotte nodded lightly as another small silence came over the two, a little flicker of the street light before the silence was broken.

“it’s funny really because i wish i could just sit and listen to her ramble on about nothing but we would still loose track of time” a small sad smile appeared on the blonde face as she recounted the memory, lotte sitting listening with a similar look as alessia carried on.

“-or the fact she would never let us get coffee from anywhere else but her local cafe where she’d get the same coffee each time — but she’d never have to ask cause the person behind the counter would always have it ready for her. i think that’s why she like to go there..” a little giggled came from alessia as she thought about the many times she tried to get you to go to a different coffee place but you’d point blank refuse.

“less i know it’s gonna be hard but y/n will always be cheering for you not only up there-“ lotte pointed to the dark star which was now filled with tiny white stars, “but in here too” lotte pointed to alessia’s heart as a small nod came from her, she knew lotte was right.

“and overall she’d want you to carry on playing and winning trophy after trophy. so even if you don’t think you can do it for yourself.. do it for y/n.” lotte told the blonde as another shaky breath came from alessia, tears threatening to fall once again.

“i wish i could play football with her again.” alessia shakily said as lotte pulled the blonde into a tight hug, running her hand up and down the blondes back as she comforted her.

“i wish tomorrow came”

you just about made it to the new year, which you spent with alessia and her family as she had insisted that you were not seeing the new year in alone, she wasn't going to allow that to happen.

that was probably the last time you actually truly smiled. just being surrounded by happiness and not having negativity seeping through your veins.

the loss against west ham, the online abuse pretty much tripled. you being blamed for a short pass which resulted in a second goal for west ham and the fans had deemed that you had then and there lost arsenal the chance of winning the league.

after that weekend you found yourself spending a lot more time alone which was not a good thing. your thoughts were spiralling, you began to question why were you actually here?

any team bonding sessions you then began not to turn up, each one declined with a different excuse.

any time alessia asked you to hang out it was always the same, 'feeling tired today less, maybe tomorrow yeah?"

alessia began to notice your change in behaviour but at first did put it down to you just being tired, your limits being pushed to the max. she knew that, heck she wasn't blind anyone could see it.

it wasn't until the first england camp of the new year when you pulled out because of injury did she begin to realise you weren't just tired or injured for that matter.

she called you and you had told her nothing but lies, that you had tweaked you knee in the last game however that was the first game in months that you didn't play a full ninety. so the blondes suspicions raised, and the blonde promised she would come and see you straight after the game at wembley tomorrow.

however tomorrow for you, never came.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #lotte wubben moy #enwoso

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silent-stories · 8 months ago

Text

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader

Summary: Astarion fears that he is forcing you to spend the rest of your life in darkness.

Astarion was lying on the bed, next to you, his eyes were staring at an indefinite point on the ceiling and between his eyebrows there were a few more wrinkles, as if he was intensely thinking.

The inn room was comfortable, clean, and scented with lavender. It was nice to finally be able to spend a few days of peace after Cazador's death and sleep in a real bed, next to someone you loved.

You looked at his profile, the curve of his lips, the white curls on the pillow and some falling onto his forehead, the way his chest remained completely still, devoid of a beating heart and air in his lungs.

His ruby eyes looked darker now that they were no longer in daylight and you found yourself thinking that you already missed the way they sparkled when hit by the sun's rays.

You glanced at the window in the room, the curtains were drawn so as not to let in the slightest bit of light, obviously. Ever since Astarion went back to not being able to be in the sunlight, you were always careful about that.

"Is something bothering you, Star?"

You already knew the answer, you knew him, but you didn't want to force any explanation.

"Don't you think you made the wrong choice?" He responded with another question, his voice low.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you think I am the wrong choice?" He continued speaking without looking at you, his pale hands lying one on his stomach and one on his side. You wanted to grab one, kiss his knuckles and play with his fingers in that way that always made him laugh no matter how hard he tried to hold it back.

You decided against it only because he seemed so deep in his thoughts that a sudden touch would start him. You knew that some types of physical contact were still new to him.

"Star-"

"I feel like I'm forcing you to spend the rest of your life in the dark, hiding."

"You're not forcing me, it was my decision to stay with you."

"This is exactly why I ask you: don't you think you made the wrong decision?"

"You will never be-"

He interrupted you.

"I want you to know that if at any moment you realize that this is not the life you want to live, that you are tired of hiding from the sun, I will understand.

And although I may never be ready to let you go, I will, because you deserve to live. You deserve to walk among people, village festivals, going through the markets, you deserve the sun's rays kissing your skin. And I don't want to deprive you of what you deserve, my love. I can't deprive you of living."

The way he spoke and the sincerity in his voice, devoid of any hint of sarcasm and irony, struck you in a way you couldn't quite place and left you speechless.

He was telling you to leave him for your own good.

"As much as I would like to have you next to me for eternity, I find it a too selfish idea. Even for me." He continued, "So I'm telling you, if one day I won't find you lying in bed next to me, don't feel guilty for running away from someone who was limiting you, who was forcing you into the darkness when you wanted to see the world.

I'll understand it. I won't lie and say I won't spend the rest of my days trying in vain to fill the void you left in me, but that won't change my mind. You deserve to live, my love. Not to hide."

He was saying you could go, even though it would cause him pain. That it was more important to know you were happy with someone else than unhappy with him. You wondered if there was a greater sign of love than this.

"My star."

The way you called him, maybe stirred something in him. He turned his head towards you and his gaze finally met yours, his red eyes were big, sad and full of affection.

“I would rather spend the rest of my life in the darkness with you than in the daylight with someone else.”

He slowly moved his body towards you, his hand gently brushing your hip and so you reached out to trace his features with your fingertips, brushing a curl away from his forehead.

You kept talking.

"The world is still alive when the sun goes down, we can go out and live with it. We can see how the moon reflects on the waves of the sea and on the surface of the lakes, we can walk in the woods that only we know, we can try to count the stars and invent new constellations."

His grip around you became firmer but still extremely gentle as he pushed you closer to his body. You put your arms around him in the same way and with your hand you caressed his back, aware that under the light fabric of his shirt, the scars of his past stood out on his skin.

You remembered the day he told you that it was okay, when you touched them, that they hadn't caused him physical pain in years and that, when he felt the tips of your fingers run gently over them, it was as if they were healing for a second time.

"I don't care what we do, as long as we're together. I'm not interested in running away from you because I don't want anyone else. You won't find my side of the bed empty one day, because that's the only place I want to be. You didn't force me to do anything, Star, it was my decision to be with you. And it will be my decision to stay with you every day to follow."

There was a moment of silence, then his lips curved into a slight smile. Almost invisible, but enough to show the tips of his white canines.

“You have always been so stubborn.” He murmured before leaving a kiss on your forehead. It was light and sweet and made you giggle.

"I think you like that."

"Just a bit."

"Just a bit?" You asked, pretending to be shocked.

"Mh-mh."

"Now don't you try to tell me that-"

When his cold lips met yours, you couldn't finish your sentence. The kiss was sweet, full of meaning and slower than usual.

Because in the end, you had all the time.

Because you weren't planning on leaving anytime soon.

#astarion x reader #astarion bg3 x reader #astarion fluff #astarion angst #astarion x reader angst #astarion x reader fluff

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yawnderu · 1 year ago

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You make it hard to be a ghost — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Mutual pining, yearning, fluff, conflicted emotions.♡

"That's enough out of you." Ghost barked as he entered your quarters, slamming a crumpled piece of paper onto your desk. You write poetry for him, sneaking it into pieces of his gear and clothes where you know he'll find them. He reads them every single time, the strings of his heart being pulled whenever he reads them. He'd never let you know he keeps them, never let you know just how much your handwritten thoughts truly affect him, but you already know.

"What else am I supposed to do with my love for you, Ghost?" You asked teasingly, though the fear of keeping being rejected was always there, gnawing on your heart every single time he denied your affections.

"I don't need your love." He spat out, British accent making his rejection somewhat harder. How do I let you know you're the sun that casts away my shadows? I can't. His gaze flickers back and forth as you stay quiet, a mixture of guilt and anxiety playing on his expressive eyes though he tried to keep a stern mask in place. "I don't have time for this." You make me feel something.

"You say that, but I know you enjoy what I write even if you don't believe my words." You stand up from your seat, slowly approaching Ghost as your hand gently holds his wrist, examining his tattoo sleeve. His senses are overwhelmed as you touch him, by the closeness of your body, the warmth of your hands, your gentle touch. He wants this for himself, but he can't accept it, yet he doesn't push you away. "Whose dog tags are these?" You inquire, looking at his tattoo with a curious gaze.

"An old friend." He replies shortly, breath hitching slightly. Those dog tags belong to Simon Riley. The Simon Riley who died the same day Ghost was born, the same Simon Riley who gave his murdered family a funeral pyre and was left as just a Ghost. You simply hum, knowing better than to press for more details.

"Stray." His voice finally cuts the silence, his tone more gentle than what you usually hear from him, despite the turmoil in his head. "I've never loved anyone." Other than my mum and brother. It pains him to say those words, but you deserve to know.

"I know." He looked at you with a gaze full of sadness, and you responded with a gaze full of love. Ghost pulls you closer, allowing himself to be vulnerable in this way for once in his life, hand resting warmly against your cheek as he leans closer, breathing in your hair and the scent of your skin. His nightmares and past haunt him, his trauma keeps him up at night, but you keep his soul alive.

"I truly love you, Simon." Your arms gently wrap around his neck and he grits his teeth. Simon. Simon had been dead for years, yet you somehow always found a way to bring him back to life. To make his defenses come crumbling down as if he didn't spend years carefully building them. You can feel the tension leaving his body, muscles relaxing and shoulders dropping. You're aware this is a big deal for Ghost, he never lets anyone get this close. You hear his heart beating wildly, his breath on your neck as his arms wrap around your waist hesitantly, bringing you closer and closer each passing second.

"I love you too." He whispered, swallowing the knot in his throat. It's the first time he's actually been able to say it. "I love you too." He repeats, just in case you missed it the first time.

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artsninspo · 2 months ago

Text

FORGIVELESS - V - BACK AND FORTH IT GO, IT'S HARD, I KNOW 🔄

Full Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

RIO MASTERLIST

V - BACK AND FORTH IT GO, IT'S HARD, I KNOW 🔄

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~2K

Warning: Mentions of cheating & abusive behaviour.

Summary: The aftermath of the tiff between the reader and her soon to be ex husband is explored with Rio and her mother. Rio is confronted with the depths of his feelings for the reader and how to make his next move his best move. This one is fluffy 🧸 and angsty.

It’s late when you wake up in Rio’s bed alone. You don't remember falling to sleep. All of the stress and adrenaline of the day had finally caught up to you. The clock reads 3am and you sigh climbing out of bed. The cold floors cause you to tiptoe into the bathroom. The tiled floors are even colder. When finished in the bathroom you see a loungewear set and smile that Rio has thought of you. You help yourself to a hot shower. It feels like you've been re-wired. The events of the past 24 hours had been too much mentally and physically. Not only had James cheated but he’d been too close to getting physical. As angry as it made you feel it was sad that it even had to come to this. Freshened up you leave the bathroom and find Rio on the couch looking at a chess board studiously. It’s like he senses you immediately and looks up.

“Thanks for the clothes” you smile and he sits back with open arms. You take the invitation sitting on his lap. It feels good to know he has your back. He doesn't need to make a promise or a declaration. He’s shown it every step of the way. Rio didn't do crazy, drama or stress. He had enough problems to sort out. It was how he knew this thing with you was different. You were in his home and in his arms fully dressed. His previous relationships with women had been more transactional. Sex without strings suited his lifestyle and expectations well. The responsibilities and expectations of a committed relationship didn't appeal to him after exiting his teens and early twenties. The world was too big to commit to one person without seeing what else life could offer him.

"Thanks for letting me crash here” you speak first looking up at him. Rio holds you there against him calmly, settling your nerves and anxiety.

“You don’t have to thank me but you should call your mom.” Rio says. He’d watched your phone ring every hour before plugging it up into the charger. There was no need for missing reports but he could tell she was worried. You sigh ready to admit the truth out loud. You still don't want to, knowing the truth will likely break your moms heart worse than it broke yours.

“Can you drop me to the airport? I don't want to talk about it over the phone. I’m her only child” you confess.

“Alright” Rio responds and his calm is too much for you. You mistrust it knowing how much he lives for control and his principals.

“Rio” you say and his eyes close.

“If you're gonna cop a plea for him don't. It’ll piss me off, he almost put hands on you. He doesn't deserve grace. Keep your plausible deniability. Go visit your mom and then meet me in Mexico. You deserve a vacation” He says with his next steps laid out as far as James was concerned.

You swallow your commentary looking Rio in his eyes before sighing. “I’ll come to Mexico. I get a flight from my moms” you concede.

“I’ll get you the flight,” he says. His usual demeanour is gone, there’s no humour or play in his eyes. Lust is absent too; he’s angry, attentive and composed instead. A side you aren’t familiar with. He gets his phone out and then sighs. “Come on, we gotta go now so you can board on time.”

“Rio, I’m alright. Lighten up” you smile trying to lighten things up.

“Let’s not start lying to each other.” He stands dismissing your attempts to placate the situation.

“Just promise me you wont get yourself in trouble” you sigh, willing to drop it with that assurance.

“I won't” he agrees immediately. Relieved you stand getting your purse and necessities. Rio holds his arm around you the entire ride down the elevator and to his car. He keeps a concerned look on you as he drives you to the airport. He pays for your ticket at the counter and sticks close. He doesnt give a fuck if word gets around that he’s been around town with a woman. Hell he wants it to get back to James. That’s part one of his plan. He needs the whispers to make James sick. He’d fuck with James head first before holding him responsible for his actions.

“Call me when you land” he swallows.

“Ok” you nod, walking into his arms. “See you in Mexico” you smile. Rio forces one. Your commitment to make the best of the situation in spite of your obvious pain only infuriates him more. Not wanting to push your process he presses a kiss against your forehead.

“See you later, Mama” he says, letting you go. He stands there until you're cleared and out of his sight. You feel thankful for how attentive he is. The fact that you are hyperventilating right now is in direct correlation with who Rio’s been for you lately. The fact that your eyes are dry and you have a safe place to land is everything to you. The fact that he had someone there to look in on you makes the world. Once on the plane you draft a message to thank him while your phone is on airplane mode.

The flight is significantly shorter than the drive and you walk through straight to arrivals without any baggage. Your mom greets you with an uneasy smile and you run to her relieved. Her perfume has an instant effect on your nerves and worries.

“Ohh baby, I’m so glad you came,” she says, squeezing you tight.

“Me too Mommy” you admit.

“Are you hungry or do you want to go home?” she asks.

“Starving” you admit having slept on an empty stomach. Checking her watch, your mom sees nothing is open.

“I’ll make your favourite” she smiles, taking your hand.

Once in her car you send Rio a message saying you've landed and are with your mom before sending the one you constructed on your flight. You hope it isn't too much.

“So tell me what’s been going on?”

“What did James tell you?” you ask and she sighs merging onto the freeway.

“That you’ve been absent lately, stopped cooking, cleaning, being around and that you threatened to leave him. He says you think he’s cheated but it’s a misunderstanding. One of his clients has gotten inappropriate and he’s only entertained it via text but not in person. He says he thinks you’ve actually stepped out on him physically. Asked me if you told me anything.” she says and its your turn to sigh.

“Momma-”

“Don’t explain, the panic in his voice told me he was cheating. It was how fast he was talking, how scared he was to lose you. If you think he’s cheated I trust you and I’m so sorry baby.” your mom sighs looking over at you with remorse. Your eyes water, feeling the pain she feels for you.

“He’s been cheating since we moved and she’s fully aware of me, and she talks about me” you confess shaking your head. “I’m done mom.” you add letting a few tears fall.

“I’ll help you move out, for now stay with me” your mom says, surprising you. You frown looking at her. “My love for James is conditional to how you feel about him and how he treats you. The fact that he called me LYING, baby. I’m sorry. He has no shame and I’m disgusted with him. He does not have an ally in me. Hasn’t since he moved you away. I knew something was up when we spent so many weekends having virtual movie marathons.” she says and you look shocked as you arrive at her house. Once parked you follow your mom into her house. A Bachelorette pad, without a single trace of a male touch. You smile feeling the good energy as she heads to the sink to wash up before starting breakfast.

“You don't know how relieved I am to hear you say that” you sigh, sitting at the island as she begins preparing your favourite breakfast. She backs you, oiling the frying pan when she speaks again.

“We haven’t talked in a few weeks, and you dont look like someone who is distraught by cheating. Is he right about there being someone else?” Your mom asks. You feel your face and hands heat. She keeps her back turned giving you privacy and opportunity to lie.

“When I found out I decided I wouldn't be the only one honouring our vows” you confess and when you turn you see your mother is smiling. It's a surprise that she isn't disgusted or disappointed with you. It’s the last thing you expect after your highly moral upbringing. She smiles, shaking her head.

“Good” she says and a smile creeps onto your lips.

“Good?!” you ask shocked.

“Smelled his cologne on you when you hugged me. I’m happy you trust me with the truth and really I’m grateful you're not in pieces” she says. You hold your shirt before remembering you showered at Rio’s using his things.

“MA!” you scoff and she chuckles.

“I’ll never encourage you to stay somewhere you aren't appreciated or treated well. James better not call me again if he doesn't want me to tear his head off. The uppity mother and father of his either.” she adds.

“Thanks mom” you smile giving her a hug and she breathes you in.

“So what's his name?” she asks and over breakfast you giggle.

“Rio?” you respond.

“Baby, not the codename like Japan” your mother laughs and you realise you haven't asked him about his name.

“Rio’s what he’s called,” you tell her honestly before detailing all the PG versions of what you know and your time with Rio. She sits happy for your outlet and his disposition with James. She warns you about Rio’s boundaries, reminding you not to fall too hard and heed what he says. You feel rejuvenated by the time she’s asleep. You sit on your bedroom balcony looking out onto the lake behind the backyard. You respond to Rio’s goodnight text and he calls riding around in his truck. He’s even more fine to you now that your mom knows the truth and approves of your marriage ending in the eyes of the law too.

“What are you smiling about?” he asks.

“Just imagining how much fun we're gonna have in Mexico” you tell him and he smiles.

“Momma gonna let you leave her?” he asks.

“Yeah, she knows about you too” you inform him.

He raises a brow. “And?”

“So far so good. She trusts me and she appreciates you for being here for me.” You tell him.

“Hey” Rio says, getting your attention. You look at him in the camera.

“Don't thank me for being here for you. That's what a mans supposed to do.” he says frankly. “Don't apologise either. I wasn’t upset with you earlier.” he says.

“Rio?” you ask.

“Hmm?” He responds sitting at a red light.

“I never asked, but what's your real name?” You say. Rio smiles as the light goes green glancing at you back on the screen to you.

“Christopher,” he says without hesitation. Smiling as you look at him. You wouldn't have guessed it. Honestly you haven't put any thought into it until your mom had asked if Rio was his real name or a codename like Japan.

“Christopher” you repeat trying to get a feel for it.

“Get some sleep Mama, i’ll call you tomorrow and text you the details for the trip. Ok?”

“Ok. Good night” you say not liking the emptiness on the line.

“Goodnight” Rio responds feeling it too. You hang up first to ease the tension. It felt like there should be more. But your mother had advised you wisely to take heed of Rio’s initial warning. Endearing terms and lovey-dovey language wouldn't serve the inevitable end that would follow whatever this was. Even if it felt like more now. Cradling your phone in your lap you take in a deep breath getting up and heading back into your room. After completing your nightly routine you check your phone before plugging it up.

Night ❤️

Ria

You smile changing his name back to Rio in your phone. You like the message before sending back one just like it and sleeping tight.

NEXT CHAPTER

Author's note: Thanks for reading loves! How do we like Momma? How did we like Rio's name reveal? What do we think about how Rio is handling his anger? Comment some baecation activity ideas to put in the next part. Vote, Like & Reblog! Also my inbox is open with ideas. There'll be an intermission after this chapter before I start on the 2nd half of the story.

TAGS:

@meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells

#masterlist #rio good girls #rio x reader #rio x you #good girls rio #manny montana x reader #rio good girls imagine #manny montana fanfiction #rio good girls fanfiction #good girls imagine #rio imagine

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capquinn · 1 month ago

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Two Hearts | Q. Hughes

summary: you and quinn drift apart, only to be drawn back together, held by a quiet, unspoken pull that lingers even after the breakup. it’s a constant ebb and flow, where the pain of separation and the comfort of reunion blur together, making it hard to truly let go. pairing: reader x quinn hughes content: lovers to exes, angst, just super sad in general word count: 8.3k note: i've been listening to birch by big red machine and what's left of me by grace vanderwaal a lot at the moment and the next thing i knew i was writing a breakup fic. anyway, godspeed! ↪masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

When you first met, it was like falling into step with someone who already knew the rhythm of your heart. You were always together, moving through life side by side, sharing the little moments and the big ones, too. He was your person, the one you called with every piece of news, good or bad, the one you turned to without a second thought. And for a while, it felt like you’d found something unbreakable, a connection so strong it seemed like nothing could touch it.

But slowly, things changed. There wasn’t a single moment or a reason you could pinpoint, just a gradual drifting apart, like you were both holding onto something that was already slipping away. You both knew it, but neither of you wanted to say it out loud, as if giving voice to the growing distance between you would make it real, would make it impossible to ignore. So, you held on, hoping that things might shift back, that the comfort and ease you’d once shared would return. But it never did.

Eventually, you both knew what had to be done. The breakup wasn’t loud or dramatic; there were no screaming fights or betrayals. It was just the painful acceptance that something that once felt infinite had an end. You’d sat across from each other, trying to find the right words, but all that came out were half-smiles and empty reassurances, promises to stay friends, to still care. The kind of promises you both knew were hollow, meant to soften the blow but only making it sting more.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The bar is buzzing, a steady hum of laughter and clinking glasses, your friends leaning into the evening with carefree energy that you’re trying your best to match. You’re at a table near the back, surrounded by people, but the only thing that holds your attention is the TV mounted high on the wall, where the Canucks game plays on in vivid colour.

You hadn’t planned on watching, had spent the past few weeks avoiding his games entirely ever since the break up, even changing your route to work to bypass Rogers Arena and the massive banners that displayed his face. But here, in this bar, the game is impossible to ignore.

You’re nursing a drink that’s lost its chill, your eyes drawn back to the screen again and again, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Maybe it’s the few drinks you’ve had, or the way your friends seem preoccupied with their own conversations, but for a moment, you let yourself lean into the pull.

You scan the bench, looking for the familiar outline of his face, the way he used to smile just before the game started, that quiet confidence you knew so well.

And then, as if the universe heard your silent plea, there he is.

The camera lingers on him, and he’s just sitting there, helmet off, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel. The sight of him after so many weeks avoiding him is so sudden that it hits you like a punch to the chest, the pain of missing him crashing over you in relentless waves. He looks good — strong, steady, like the man you fell in love with.

You sink further back into your chair, your chest tightening, and you feel the sting of tears welling up, but you blink them away. The last thing you need is for your friends to see, to ask questions, to try to distract you with shallow reassurances that you know won’t help. You’re here with them, but in this moment, you feel impossibly alone, wrapped up in a silence that even the loudest crowd can’t break.

It’s strange, this hurt. You thought time would soften it, would dull the edges, but instead, it feels sharper than ever. You’re hit with memories of all the times you’d cheered him on from the stands. The pride that would swell in your chest as he skated out onto the ice, the way he’d look up at you after a win, his smile saying more than words ever could. And now, here you are, watching him from a distance, a stranger in a bar, trying to reconcile the person you knew with the one you’re seeing now.

One of your friends nudges you, pulling you back to the present. You manage a smile, nodding along as they talk about something trivial, something that barely registers as you try to focus, try to be here with them. But it’s useless. The only thing you can feel is the cold, empty space where he used to be, the sense that you’re still tethered to him, still bound by a connection that won’t let you go, no matter how hard you try.

You glance at the screen one last time, watching as the camera shifts, capturing him from a different angle, and it’s like he’s right there, close enough to touch, yet impossibly far away.

You pull your gaze away, focusing on your drink, trying to steady your breath, trying to shake the feeling that you’ll never really be free of him. Because no matter how much time passes, no matter how many miles or weeks separate you, it feels like he’s still there, a constant presence that haunts you.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Quinn drops his duffel bag by the door, letting out a long, slow breath. He’s just come off a stretch of back-to-back games, all of them wins, and the rush of adrenaline from the ice still lingers, though it’s beginning to fade now.

The apartment is dark and silent, and it feels colder than he remembers. It’s the first real stretch of time away since the season started back up and since the breakup, and the silence feels more profound than ever.

This is the part he used to look forward to — coming home, dropping his things, feeling the weight of the road lift from his shoulders as soon as he crossed the threshold.

But now, that sense of relief is nowhere to be found.

He flips on a light, and the glow seems almost too harsh, too bright against the empty space. It wasn’t like this before. He’d come home from these trips and find you there, waiting for him, a warm smile on your face and something simmering on the stove, like you’d been anticipating his return all day. The routine was one he hadn’t even realised he’d come to rely on. He’d walk through the door, and the world outside would fall away, replaced by the comfort of you, by the way you’d wrap him in your arms and hold him tight, as if to say, you made it back. You’re home now.

But tonight, there’s no one waiting for him. Just the echo of his own footsteps and the faint hum of the fridge. He heads into the kitchen, out of habit more than anything, and opens the cabinet. There it is, your favourite mug, still in its place, untouched since you left. He closes the door, pushing down the ache that rises in his chest. The space is the same, but it feels foreign without you there, without the sounds and scents that made it feel like more than just a place to sleep between games.

He moves to the couch and sits down, staring at the blank TV screen. There are still traces of you everywhere, even though it’s been months. He hasn’t had the heart to remove them, as if by keeping these small reminders around, he can pretend, just for a moment, that nothing has changed. But it has, and he feels it in every inch of the apartment, in every corner that once held your presence, now empty.

He closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the cushion, and tries to breathe through the quiet. He’s used to routines, to schedules, to the grind that keeps him going, but no amount of preparation could brace him for the silence that waits for him here.

The season is in full swing, and he’s supposed to be focused, sharp, ready for every game. But sitting here, with the emptiness pressing in on him, he wonders if he’ll ever really shake this feeling, if the apartment will ever feel right again.

He knows he should get up, unpack, settle back in, but he can’t bring himself to move. Instead, he sits there, letting the silence stretch out, knowing that it’s just another part of what he has to face now.

Another piece of you he has to let go.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s a chilly evening downtown, but the bar is warm, buzzing with people, laughter, and the steady thrum of music. Quinn is surrounded by his buddies, all of them relaxed, sharing drinks and catching up like they used to. It’s the first time in months he’s felt something close to normal. The weight he’s been carrying seems to have lifted, and for the first time since the breakup, he can feel himself starting to breathe again. He even catches himself laughing, really laughing, at something one of his friends says, and it feels good. He feels almost like himself again.

As the night goes on, his friends nudge him, pointing out a girl at the bar — a brunette, leaning casually against the counter, a slight smile playing on her lips as she looks his way.

“She’s cute,” his friend says, giving him an encouraging nudge. “Go talk to her, man. It’s about time, don’t you think?”

Quinn hesitates, glancing over at her. She is cute, and a part of him wonders if maybe he should. Maybe it’s time to try, to start moving forward for real. He takes a breath, thinking he could do it, just walk over and strike up a conversation, let himself take a step into something new.

But as he watches her, a strange feeling begins to settle in his stomach. He feels off, like something isn’t right, like he’s crossing a line he can’t quite see but knows is there. He looks down, his fingers tapping against the side of his glass as the ache starts to creep back, that dull, familiar ache that he thought he’d left behind.

It doesn’t feel right. It feels like betrayal, like he’s letting go of something he doesn’t want to lose, even if he knows it’s already gone. And suddenly, you’re there, filling his mind, your laughter, your smile, the way you used to look at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. He realises he’s not ready — not for this, not for anything new. Because it still hurts, even if he thought it didn’t. It still feels like he’s leaving a part of himself behind.

He shakes his head, offering his friends a small smile. “Nah, I’m good,” he says, pushing away from the bar. “Not tonight.”

His friend raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t press, just claps him on the shoulder, his expression softening. “Alright, man. No rush. You’ll know when you’re ready.”

Quinn nods, grateful that his friends don’t push it further. He stays with them for a while longer, listening to the conversations, trying to immerse himself back into the lightness of the evening, but it doesn’t quite work. The feeling lingers, a quiet ache that sits heavy in his chest, and he knows he can’t ignore it.

Later that night, when he’s walking back to his apartment, he pulls out his phone, his fingers hovering over your name in his contacts. He knows he probably shouldn’t, knows that reaching out might only reopen old wounds, but he can’t help himself. He needs to know if you’re feeling it too, if maybe, somewhere in the silence between you, there’s still something left.

He types out a message, keeping it simple, but the words still feel heavy, loaded with everything he can’t quite say: Hey. Just wanted to check in. Hope you’re doing okay.

He hesitates, his thumb hovering over the send button, wondering if it’s a mistake. But in the end, he sends it, letting the message fly out into the silence, hoping that somehow, it finds its way to you, and maybe, just maybe, you’re thinking of him too.

As he walks the empty streets back to his apartment, Quinn's phone buzzes in his hand, lighting up with a notification. He stops, heart skipping a beat as he reads your name on the screen. He hadn't expected a response — not tonight, maybe not at all. He'd half-convinced himself that you were moving on, that the silence between you was something you both needed, even if it was painful.

But there it is: your message. His chest tightens, relief and trepidation flooding through him as he swipes to read it.

Hey, I’m doing alright. Thanks for checking in. Hope you’re okay too.

It’s simple, almost too simple, but he can feel the weight of it, the way it wraps around him, bringing back memories he’d been trying so hard to push down.

He lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, his grip tightening on the phone as he reads your words again. He can almost hear your voice saying them, that familiar tone that used to bring him so much comfort.

Quinn leans against a lamppost, the cold seeping through his jacket, but he barely feels it. He’s lost in the past, in flashes of you laughing beside him, your head resting on his shoulder, the way you’d curl into him like you belonged there, like you always would. The distance between you has been unbearable, and as much as he’d thought he was moving on, your message reminds him just how deep the ache goes, how much he misses you in ways that he thinks no one else can fill.

He thinks about replying, about saying something that might bridge the gap between you, something that might crack open the door that he knows is probably better left closed.

But his fingers hover over the screen, unsure, caught between the pull of wanting to say everything and the fear of saying too much.

Getting there, he types, pausing as he considers the truth of those words. Then he adds: I miss talking to you.

He sends it before he can overthink, and as he waits for a reply, a nervous energy builds in his chest. The night feels colder now, lonelier, as if the silence between you is stretching even further, more pronounced. The moments pass, each one a reminder of what he’s hoping to find in your response, and he knows he’s standing on fragile ground, balancing on the edge of everything he’s been trying to let go.

The phone buzzes again, and he glances down, his heart pounding as he reads your reply.

Yeah, me too. It feels strange not having you around.

Those words hit him like a punch to the gut, the raw truth in them piercing through the layers of resolve he’d tried to build up over these months. He looks up at the night sky, the city lights hazy in the distance, and he wonders if this is how it will always be: an endless loop of trying to move on, only to be pulled back to you, back to the place where everything feels right but is so undeniably broken.

He feels a shiver run through him as he reads your reply, the simple admission that things feel strange without him, that you miss him too. It's enough to reignite that small, flickering hope he’s been trying to ignore, the one that tells him maybe, somehow, there’s still a way back.

He types out a response, his fingers moving almost on their own, trying to capture the words that have been caught in his chest for months.

I thought I was moving on, but I still miss you. More than I want to admit, he writes, his thumb hesitating over the send button. But then he sends it, and the words are out there, suspended in the space between you, a bridge he can’t cross back over now.

He waits, his phone clutched in his hand, eyes glued to the screen. The minutes tick by, the cold night air biting at him, but he doesn’t move. He keeps checking the screen, hoping to see the familiar three dots, a sign that you’re there, that you’ve read his message and maybe, just maybe, you’re willing to give him something in return.

But the dots never appear, and as the silence stretches on, the hope begins to fade, replaced by a creeping sense of dread.

He reads the message back to himself, the rawness of it hitting him harder now, and he realises that he’s laid himself bare, offered up the part of himself he’s been keeping close, only to be met with silence.

He tells himself that maybe you’re busy, that maybe you’ve fallen asleep. That there’s some reason you haven’t responded. But deep down, he knows. He knows that sometimes, silence is its own kind of answer. It’s own kind of goodbye. He knows that if you’d wanted to respond, you would have. That maybe, despite everything, you’re trying to move on in a way he’s not ready for.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The back-and-forth between you and Quinn has been a fragile line, a balancing act that neither of you seem quite ready to step away from. It’s like you’re both holding onto opposite ends of a rope, loosening your grip just enough to let a little slack, but never fully letting go.

Since the breakup, you’ve exchanged a few messages, each one carefully crafted, as if testing the waters of where you now stand.

At first, there was the occasional check-in. He’d reached out to wish your mom a happy birthday, a thoughtful gesture that tugged at old memories. You’d replied with a simple thank you, feeling a strange mixture of comfort and unease. A few weeks later, you found yourself wishing him luck for the hockey season, the words feeling heavier than they should. He replied quickly, but there was a hesitation you could almost feel in the silence that followed, an echo of all that was left unsaid.

And then there were the spontaneous moments — the TikTok you sent one night, hoping it would make him laugh the way it used to, or the photo he’d shared of a sunset from his apartment window, captioned only with, thought you’d like this. These small, seemingly insignificant messages were like tiny threads, keeping you tethered to each other, never fully apart. You both knew the connection lingered, an unspoken acknowledgment that some bonds don’t break so easily.

In the spaces between these moments, you’d both tried to create new routines, to carve out separate paths. You stopped going to the places you used to frequent together, started exploring new spots with friends, hoping it would help you move on. You’d heard through mutual friends that he was doing the same — choosing different haunts, finding new ways to fill his days.

You’d both done well to avoid each other for the most part, but you knew it was only a matter of time before your paths would cross again, as if the universe was waiting for the perfect moment to throw you back together.

And then it happens. You’re leaving your favourite coffee shop, the one you’d almost forgotten you shared, tucked into a quiet street just far enough from the city’s usual hustle. You’re caught up in a joke your friend just told, the warmth of laughter still lingering as you push open the door, balancing a cup in one hand and a bag in the other. But when you glance up, there he is, walking towards the door, his eyes finding yours in an instant. The laughter fades, replaced by the hollow thud of your heart in your chest as you both freeze, caught in a moment that feels both inevitable and surreal.

Neither of you move, and for a beat, the world narrows to just the two of you, standing face-to-face in the place that once felt like your own little corner of the world.

It’s awkward, disconcerting, like an unexpected reminder of a past that still holds you both in its grip. And as you hold his gaze, you realise that despite all the little steps you’ve both taken to move forward, you’re both still here, tangled up in the threads of a something that feels far from over.

He’s alone, a few stray raindrops clinging to his jacket from the drizzle outside. There’s a split second of something unreadable in his expression — surprise, maybe even a little hesitation, before he recovers, offering a small, polite smile. It’s so painfully familiar, that half-smile of his.

Your friend shifts beside you, sensing the change in the air, and gives you a quick, curious glance. You manage a strained smile in return, glancing back at Quinn as you exchange awkward hellos.

“Hey,” he says, his voice just loud enough to cut through the ambient noise, yet soft enough that it feels intimate. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” you reply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, aware of how forced your tone sounds. “How about you?”

“Yeah, can’t complain,” he says with a shrug, his hands sliding into his pockets, and for a moment, he looks like the Quinn you used to know. The one who was always a little awkward, a little unsure.

There’s a brief pause, a tension hanging between you as you both struggle for words. He clears his throat, glancing toward the barista before meeting your eyes again.

“It’s been a while,” he says, his voice a little too even, like he’s carefully measuring each word. It feels strangely formal, like you’re two strangers making small talk instead of two people who once shared everything.

“Yeah,” you nod, shifting awkwardly. “It has.”

The conversation stalls there, the weight of what neither of you are saying settling uncomfortably between you. It’s weird, this distance — how you can be standing so close to someone you once knew inside and out, yet feel miles apart.

You don’t know where to look, your eyes darting from his face to the floor to the cup in your hand, as if it might hold the answers you can’t seem to find.

He shuffles slightly, one hand still gripping the coffee shop door, the other hovering at his side like he’s not sure what to do with it. His mouth opens as if he’s about to say something, but the words don’t come, and you can see the same uncertainty reflected in his eyes, the same hesitation that’s keeping you both on the edge of this awkward dance.

The silence stretches, and in the back of your mind, a question gnaws at you, growing louder with each passing second: Do you still miss me? It’s the only thing you really want to ask. Because I still miss you. But you can’t bring yourself to say it. Neither of you can.

Instead, you both linger in the spaces between, skirting around the edges of what you really want to say, pretending this is just a normal, chance encounter and not a painful reminder of what’s been lost.

Your chest tightens, and you can feel the ache creeping in, the unrelenting pull of everything that was left unresolved.

“It’s good to see you,” you finally offer, your voice quieter than you intended, the words feeling hollow, insufficient.

“Yeah,” he replies, his gaze softening for just a moment, and you swear you see something flicker in his eyes — something like longing, or maybe regret. “You too.”

Another beat of silence passes, heavy and thick, and then, almost simultaneously, you both step aside to let the other pass. It’s a messy, awkward shuffle, both of you trying to avoid making it worse, and for a second, your hand brushes against his. The contact is brief, fleeting, but it sends a rush of emotion through you that you’re not prepared for.

You step back, swallowing the lump in your throat, wishing you had the courage to say what you’re really feeling. But instead, you just give him a tight smile, and he nods, stepping past you toward the counter.

As you walk out the door, the familiar sound of the coffee shop bell ringing behind you, you can’t help but wonder if he feels it too — the strangeness, the heaviness. The way this brief, awkward exchange only seems to deepen the ache.

And though you know the moment has passed, the words you didn’t say still echo in your mind, reverberating like a question left hanging in the air.

Do you still miss me?

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s a rainy evening, the kind of night where you’d rather stay home with a book or a movie, something comforting to fill the quiet. But your friends convinced you that it was time to get back out there, that you deserved to have a little fun, to meet someone new.

You sit there, trying to muster up an interest in the conversation, but everything about the date feels off. The sushi restaurant is beautiful, the lighting warm and inviting, though you feel strangely out of place.

Your date is nice — polite, even a little charming, but there's something about him that feels hollow, like you’re both playing parts in a scene that doesn’t quite fit.

He smiles, asking about your work, your hobbies, the little details of your life, and you respond automatically, going through the motions as best you can. He’s handsome, with an easy laugh and a quick wit, and you know, objectively, that he’s a good guy. But as he talks, you can’t help but compare each small gesture to Quinn, feeling the disappointment settle deeper each time he falls short.

When he leans back in his seat, his posture casual, he doesn't reach for you, doesn't offer that familiar brush of his knee against yours. You realise that you've been waiting for it, anticipating a touch that never comes, and with each passing second, the absence grows more glaring. With Quinn, there was always an unspoken connection, a natural pull that kept you close, like your bodies knew how to find each other even in a crowded room. But here, with this stranger, there's only an empty space that feels too wide and too cold.

You remember how Quinn would glance at you between bites, his eyes softening as he leaned in just a little closer, the quiet smiles that would pass between you like a secret language only you two shared. He had this way of making you feel seen, of making even the smallest moment feel significant. But tonight, everything feels forced, every word an effort, and you find yourself retreating further into memories of Quinn, of the way he made even the most ordinary dinners feel like something special.

Your date tries to fill the silence, laughing as he tells another story, his voice rising with enthusiasm, but it only makes the space between you feel more hollow. With Quinn, you never had to fill the silences. They were easy, comforting, a shared understanding that allowed you to simply be, without the need for constant words. But now, the silence feels heavy, a reminder of everything you’ve lost.

He catches your distant expression, tilting his head with a look of concern. "You alright?” he asks, his voice gentle, and for a moment, you feel guilty, like you’re betraying him by not being fully present, by comparing him to a past he can’t compete with.

You force a smile, nodding. “Yeah, just…tired. Must be the weather or something,” you say, but even as the words leave your mouth, you know they’re not quite true. It’s not tiredness; it’s the ache of missing Quinn, of sitting here with someone else and realising that the bar had been set so high, you’re not sure anyone else can reach it.

The date continues, but it feels like you’re moving through water, each word weighed down by the memories you can’t shake. When he offers you a bite of his food, finally, you want to feel grateful, but even that feels off — like a poor imitation of the way Quinn would share his plate with a grin, his eyes lighting up as he watched your reaction, his hand lingering just a little longer than necessary.

And as the night wears on, you start to feel a strange sadness, a quiet understanding that you’re not ready for this, not yet. Maybe it’s too soon, or maybe it’s that you’re still carrying Quinn with you, a weight that makes every interaction feel too forced. The date ends, and he offers to walk you to your car, but you decline, needing the solitude, the chance to step out into the rain and let the cool air clear your mind.

You slip into your car, the familiar hum of the engine a small comfort as you pull out onto the quiet streets. You could head straight home, but the thought of returning to an empty apartment feels too daunting right now. Instead, you take the long way, winding through the city with no real destination in mind, just the soft glow of the streetlights and the rhythmic sweep of the wipers cutting through the drizzle.

Quinn is all you can think about. It’s strange, this pull he still has on you. You wonder if it’s supposed to be like this. If this ache is a normal part of moving on after spending so long with someone who became a part of your world. You had shared so much — the good and the bad, the mundane and the beautiful. He had seen you at your best and at your worst, and now, even the smallest things feel out of place without him. You’re not sure if you’ll ever feel quite normal again, and if there’s ever a way to fill the space he left behind.

You find yourself circling back towards your neighbourhood, the rain picking up again as you pull into your driveway. The car is quiet now, save for the soft ticking of the engine cooling down, and you sit there, letting the weight of the evening settle over you.

You sit there for a while, the rain tapping softly against the windows, and before you know it, you’re reaching for your phone. You don’t want to tell him about the date, about how out of place you felt — there’s no point in bringing that up. But you can’t shake the urge to reach out, to bridge the distance with something small, something that feels familiar.

You type out a simple message, something that feels safer, something that isn’t about the night or the ache it left behind:

Just wanted to say hi. I hope you’re doing well.

It’s casual, almost impersonal, but as you read it over, you feel a tiny sense of relief. It’s enough to reach out, and to say something without opening wounds that haven’t quite healed. You don’t want to give him too much, but you can’t keep holding onto the silence, either. You hit send, feeling your heart quicken as the message goes through.

The rain continues to fall as you wait, unsure if he’ll reply. You know he might not, that he’s probably moved on in ways you haven’t yet. And you know that whatever comes next, you’ll have to face it, step by step, without letting him fill the spaces you’re supposed to fill yourself.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s late, and the city is wrapped in the soft glow of Christmas lights, the streets lined with decorations that should feel festive but instead make the loneliness press down harder.

You wander back to your apartment, past shop windows filled with ornaments and garlands, through a crowd of strangers bustling with bags of gifts, their laughter ringing out like echoes of a life you don’t quite belong to. The air is crisp, biting at your cheeks, and with every step, you feel the emptiness settling in deeper, gnawing at the edges of your heart.

You reach your building, climbing the familiar stairs, and as you push open the door to your apartment, you’re greeted by the silence. It’s the same stillness that has greeted you for months, but tonight, it feels heavier, more oppressive. You set your keys down, shrugging off your coat, and glance around at the empty rooms, the walls adorned with a few half-hearted decorations you’d put up in a moment of optimism. But they only serve as reminders that you’re here alone, far from the warmth of family, from the comfort of familiarity.

You sit on the edge of your bed, your phone in your hand, and before you even realise it, you’re scrolling through your contacts, your thumb hovering over his name.

Quinn.

You can almost hear his voice, the way it would ground you, steady and reassuring, cutting through the quiet like a lifeline. He’s been your person, the closest thing to family in this city, and though you know you shouldn’t, you know that calling him will only complicate things, you can’t shake the longing, the ache that’s been building all night.

You take a deep breath, your fingers trembling as you press call, and the ringing fills the silence, each tone making your heart race, a mix of anticipation and regret. But there’s also a strange sense of relief, a fleeting comfort in knowing that he’s just on the other side, that he’ll answer, because he always does. You know it’s selfish, reaching out like this, when you’ve both been trying so hard to move on, but tonight, the loneliness is too sharp, the absence of him too much to bear.

He picks up on the second ring, his voice soft and familiar, and in an instant, the loneliness fades, replaced by the warmth that only he can bring.

You close your eyes, leaning back, letting the sound of his voice wash over you, anchoring you in a way that nothing else has since you left. You make small talk, the words simple, but there’s a comfort in them, a reminder of all the late-night conversations you used to have, when he was the person you’d always call, the person who made you feel like you weren’t alone in the world.

“Hey, everything OK?” he asks, his voice soft and warm, as if he can sense the tremor in yours, the way the silence on your end stretches a beat too long.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you reply, though the words feel thin, fragile, as if they might shatter at any moment. You hesitate, searching for the right words, but all that comes is the truth, raw and heavy. “Just... wanted to hear a familiar voice. The holidays feel different this year, y'know? I’m away from my family and…” You pause, the words catching in your throat, the unspoken weight of everything you’re holding back pressing down on you. “I miss you.”

There’s a silence on the other end, but it’s not empty. You can feel his presence through the phone, the way he doesn’t rush to fill the space. Doesn’t need to because he understands. He’s always understood. He doesn’t even have to say it, but you can feel it in the quiet, in the way his breath catches ever so slightly, in the way you’re both suspended there, clinging to the edge of a past that neither of you can quite leave behind.

“Would you…” He starts, his voice hesitant, as if he’s weighing each word before letting it slip into the space between you. “Would you like to come over? Have dinner? I could use some company tonight, too.” His voice is low, steady, but there’s a vulnerability there, a longing that mirrors your own, as if he, too, has been holding onto this moment, waiting for the chance to bridge the gap that’s kept you both apart.

The offer hangs in the air, filling the empty spaces in your heart, and you realise that this, more than anything, is what you’ve been needing. Not just a familiar voice, but him — his warmth, his presence. The way he knows you without you having to explain. It’s more than you had hoped for, and yet, in that moment, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

You nod, even though he can’t see you, the word slipping from your lips before you can second-guess it. “Yeah,” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath. “I’d like that.”

There’s a quiet relief in his response, and though he doesn’t say it, you know that he’s missed you too, that he’s been feeling the same hollow ache. The same pull that’s brought you back together tonight. It’s a fragile peace, this shared loneliness, but it’s enough for now.

The air is biting as you make your way to his building, the chill cutting through your coat, but you barely notice. Your thoughts are tangled, a mess of anticipation and uncertainty as you stop to pick up a bottle of wine — a peace offering, an excuse, something to occupy your hands and steady your nerves.

By the time you reach his door, your heart is pounding, and you almost consider turning back, slipping away before you even have to face him. But then the door opens, and there he is, with that same steady gaze, the one that has always been able to calm you and unravel you all at once.

You step inside, and the warmth of his apartment wraps around you, the familiar scent of him, of the space you once shared, filling your lungs and pulling at memories you’ve tried to bury. You look around, and it’s like nothing has changed. The walls, the furniture, the soft, warm lighting — all of it is just as you remember, a snapshot frozen in time. But then your gaze drifts to the empty spaces, the subtle absence of things that once belonged to you, and the weight of it settles in your chest, a reminder that this isn’t your home anymore.

Your favourite mug, the one you’d always reach for first thing in the morning, is gone from its home by the kettle. The cosy pair of slippers you kept by the door, ready for nights when you’d settle in and make this place your own, have vanished too. You hadn’t expected them to stay, hadn’t imagined that he’d keep these remnants of you around, but somehow, seeing the empty spaces where they once were makes it all feel final, the quiet confirmation of what you already knew: it’s over.

And suddenly, the regret hits you, sharp and unforgiving. You shouldn’t have called. You shouldn’t have come. This is only going to make it harder.

Quinn takes your coat, his fingers brushing yours as he hangs it up, and there’s a brief, awkward pause, a silence heavy with everything you both want to say but don’t. He gestures toward the kitchen, and you follow him, the bottle of wine clutched tightly in your hands, your heart pounding in your chest as you take a seat on the stool by the island. He moves around the kitchen with that same easy grace, his focus shifting from the stove to the countertop, to the little tasks he always made look so effortless. You pour a glass of wine, taking a long sip, letting the warmth spread through you, settling your nerves as you watch him.

The quiet between you feels heavy at first, stifling, as if you’re both waiting for the other to break it. But then, slowly, you feel the familiar rhythm return, that easy flow you once shared, the quiet comfort of simply being in each other’s presence. He chops vegetables, stirs a pot, reaches for spices, and it’s like slipping back into an old dance, one you both know by heart, even after all this time.

You find yourself talking, sharing little bits of your day, your voice filling the space between you, and he listens, nodding along, his gaze softening as he glances over at you. There’s something so natural about it, the way he tilts his head when he’s listening, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. It’s a rhythm that feels almost instinctive, and before you know it, you’re leaning into it, the awkwardness fading, replaced by something warmer, something almost comforting.

As you sit there, watching him cook, sipping your wine, you feel a flicker of something that almost feels like peace. The familiar hum of the kitchen, the scent of food filling the air, the quiet, unspoken understanding between you — it’s all so familiar, so intimate. And yet, there’s a bittersweet edge to it, a lingering sadness that tugs at the corners of your heart, reminding you that this is temporary, that you’re only borrowing this moment.

Quinn gives the sauce a stir, tasting it with a spoon, and you lean forward, squinting at him with a familiar look of playful skepticism.

“Are you sure you’re not overdoing it with the garlic?” you ask, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he shakes his head. “I thought you loved garlic.”

“Yeah, but I also like to taste the rest of the dish,” you reply, laughing softly. “Remember that time you made pasta, and the entire apartment smelled like garlic for days?”

He chuckles, the sound light but carrying that old warmth. “Hey, I didn’t hear any complaints back then ” he says, turning back to the stove with a grin.

You shrug, resting your chin on your hand as you watch him. “Maybe I was just being nice.”

He throws a glance over his shoulder, his smile softening as his eyes meet yours. “You’re always nice,” he says, almost under his breath, and for a brief second, the room feels like it used to — filled with that easy, comfortable rhythm that was yours alone.

For a moment, it’s like the past few months slip away, and you’re both just there, together, sharing space like nothing ever changed.

You take another sip of wine, watching him as he moves around the kitchen, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you let yourself pretend. Pretend that nothing has changed, that the empty spaces don’t matter, that you haven’t been living separate lives. Because in this moment, with him just a few steps away, his gaze meeting yours, you feel like you’re home again.

And then when you take a seat at the small dining table, a quiet smile lingers on your lips as you watch him bring over the plates, setting one in front of you with that same familiar care. It’s a simple dinner, but the warmth of it, the way he moves around the room with such ease, makes it feel like more.

You glance around the room, your gaze landing on the bare walls, the empty spaces where twinkling lights and garlands used to hang. There are no Christmas decorations, none of the usual signs of the season that used to fill the apartment with warmth and light, and it feels strange.

“You didn’t put up any decorations this year,” you remark, trying to keep your tone light, though the words carry a weight you hadn’t intended.

You know how much he used to love transforming this place. How he’d indulge your excitement with a grin. How he’d string lights across the windows and set out little ornaments, creating a space that felt so alive, so full of holiday cheer. You hadn’t thought much of it until now, but seeing the absence of it all hits you harder than you expected.

He shrugs, looking down at his plate, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. I didn’t see the point,” he says softly, and there’s a vulnerability in his voice, a quiet sadness that tugs at your heart. “I only ever did it because you were around. I’m not really here much over the Holidays, and if it’s just for me… It just seems sort of pointless.”

The confession hangs between you, fragile and raw, and you feel the air shift, a connection sparking in the space between you, as if something unspoken has finally found its way to the surface.

You’re both quiet for a moment, letting the words sink in, letting the weight of them settle around you. There’s a warmth building in your chest, a tenderness that you’d thought had faded, but here it is: lingering, soft and undeniable.

Without thinking, you reach across the table, your fingers brushing against his, and he meets you halfway, his hand warm and familiar in yours. The touch is gentle, hesitant, but it feels like a step back into a place you both thought you’d left behind. He squeezes your hand, his thumb tracing a soft, slow circle against your skin, and you can feel the pull, the quiet magnetism that’s always been there, drawing you closer, even now.

After dinner, you linger in the quiet warmth of his apartment, neither of you ready to say goodbye just yet. There’s a fragile comfort in this old rhythm, a sense of normalcy that feels almost like it belongs to a different lifetime. The conversation drifts between light memories and familiar silences, and you feel yourself clinging to each moment. To the ease of it all, knowing it’s only a temporary reprieve.

You’re both leaning against the kitchen counter, a faint smile playing on his lips as he talks about something inconsequential, something that makes you laugh even as you feel the weight of the evening pressing down on you.

You’re both a little tipsy, the warmth of the wine clouding your judgment, softening the edges of everything, and when he stops talking and looks at you, really looks at you, there’s a beat of silence, a tension that feels both familiar and terrifying, and without thinking, you lean in, and he meets you half-way, closing the distance between you.

When he kisses you, it’s almost hesitant, as if he’s afraid that you’ll pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you lean into him, letting the warmth of his touch wash over you, letting it chase away the cold that’s settled in your bones since you walked out of his life. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close, and in that moment, it feels like everything is slipping back into place, like you’re finding your way home again.

The kiss is soft, tentative, but it quickly deepens, and for a moment, you lose yourself in it, letting the warmth and the memories wash over you. It feels so easy, so natural, like slipping back into a dream, and before you know it, you’re in his bed, lying beside him in the dark, your heart pounding as the reality of it all settles in.

He falls asleep with his arm draped over you, his breathing steady and slow, and you lie there, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything. It’s so familiar, the feel of his body next to yours, the quiet intimacy of sharing a bed, but this time, it's different. It's more painful, more final, as if the weight of the breakup is settling in all over again, sharper and more relentless than before.

He had held you with a tenderness that was both familiar and agonising, his hands tracing the curves of your body, his lips mapping paths across your skin. For a moment, it was as if nothing had changed, as if all the pain, all the distance, had melted away beneath the heat of his touch. You felt needed, wanted, loved in a way that you’d almost forgotten, and you let yourself sink into it, surrendering to the comfort, to the longing that had been building for months. It was intimate, but not in the way it used to be.

His touch had been gentle, yet filled with an urgency, as if he, too, was trying to memorise the moment, to hold onto something that was slipping away even as it unfolded.

His fingers brushed your skin, sending sparks through you, the warmth of him pressing into you, grounding you in a way that felt both right and utterly wrong. You closed your eyes, letting yourself drift on the wave of pleasure… on the feeling of being close to him… of feeling his heartbeat against yours.

But now, lying beside him in the aftermath, you feel the full weight of what you’ve done, the painful clarity settling in. It felt so nice to be held, to be wanted, to be wrapped up in him again, but now the emptiness is stark, the regret deeper. You’re left with the cold reality that no matter how close you get, no matter how intimately your bodies fit together, there’s a distance between you that can’t be closed. An ache that physical closeness can’t mend.

He shifts in his sleep, pulling you closer, and it only makes it worse. The familiar weight of his arm and the closeness of his breath against your skin a reminder of everything you’ve lost, of everything that can never be again. You know that this was a fleeting comfort, a brief return to something that once felt like home.

But now, the sweetness of the moment has faded, replaced by a hollow ache and by the realisation that this isn’t the way back.

In the quiet, you feel the tears slipping down your cheeks, the warmth of his body beside you a painful reminder that what you shared tonight wasn’t reconciliation — it was a goodbye that neither of you could speak aloud.

And as you lie there, his steady breathing filling the silence, you know that no matter how much you both wanted to hold on, some things can’t be undone.

Some things can’t be saved.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#I said I’d post it tomorrow but fuck it we ball #now back to regular lovey dovey quinny content <3 #Quinn Hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #quinn hughes fanfic #capquinn's writing #angst

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supernaturalgirl20 · 2 years ago

Note

Happy Joel!!! Post apocalyptic happy Joel that’s what I wish to see!!! Happy horny Joel with major breeding kink because Ellie is already grown up and he need to take care of somebody and Jackson is safe enough for family. Imagine this big hands holding little babe

Aww yes nonnie, loved this request so much. Joel getting to have a family again is everything. Hope you enjoy 😉

Maybe Now

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, PinV sex, breeding kink, mentions of loss, sadness, talks about life before, mentions of pregnancy, giving birth, breastfeeding, soft Joel, small glimpses into Joel’s life with his new family.

A/N: still have two Joel requests I’m working on, hoping to have them out this week. My requests are only open at the minute for Joel, but I will be opening them up across the board very soon 🥰

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Music played in the background as you stirred the sauce for the chicken, hips swaying to the beat as you hummed along to the song.

“Oh,” you gasp as a pair of arms wrap around you from behind.

“Somethin’ smells good, darlin’.” He breathes in the aroma as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Just a new recipe I’m trying out. How was the patrol today?” Joel’s arms tighten around you, and you can feel him hard against your ass.

“Was ok. Nothin’ to excitin’. Missed you though.” His lips begin to leave a trail of kisses along the skin of your neck and shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” You tease as you switch off the stove and turn in his arms. He nods, eyes taking in the curve of your lips before meeting your gaze.

“God, you’re beautiful, baby.” His voice is low, almost a whisper but the deep timber of his voice set the spark of arousal alight.

His lips crash hungrily onto yours and you moan as he slips his tongue inside your mouth. What’s gotten into him tonight? You think to yourself as his hands move to cup your ass.

“Need you, darlin’,” he mumbles into your skin, and you shiver.

“What about dinner?” You ask, a strangled moan passing your lips as he pulls the top of your dress down, exposing your breasts to the cool air.

His teeth nip at the pebbled peak of your nipple, and he groans into your skin as you run your fingers through his hair. “Can’t wait, darlin’, I can’t.”

His tongue licks around your nipple before he sucks it into his mouth. “Oh, Joel. Oh god…fuck…yes, dinner can wait. Take me to bed.”

He pulls back with a devilish smile on his face, pupils blown wide with lust. “Thought you’d never ask.”

His hands grip the back of your thighs and with a squeal, you're lifted into his arms. “Joel, what are you doing? Put me down, your back.”

“Trust me darlin’, ain’t nothin’ ever gonna stop me from havin’ my way' with you.”

He carries you towards the bedroom, kicking open the door he gently lowers you, his mouth devouring you as he walks you back towards the bed.

“Take it off,” he commands as he stands staring at you through lust-hooded eyes. The authority in his voice has you quivering with need.

You lift the dress over your head and let it fall to the floor with a soft thud. He growls as he takes in the sight of you naked. “Fuck darlin’ you been walkin’ around all day with nothin’ on under that dress?”

“Hmm, Hmm. Wanted to be ready for when you got home,” you say softly before biting your bottom lip. His eyes rake over your curves as he starts to strip.

“You gonna take what’s yours Miller or do I have to go find someone else?” You tease and before you can go anywhere, he grabs your ass and lowers you onto the bed.

“You’re mine. Ain’t no one else allowed to touch what’s mine, ya hear?” He growls, hand gripping your face before he lowers his lips to yours.

“Gonna show you whose pussy this is, case you forgot while I was gone.” He grabs his cock in his hand and runs the tip along your slick, coating himself in your arousal before he notches the head at your entrance and thrusts in.

God, you loved when he got like this. Possessive. Feral. It was also the only time he truly let his guard down.

“Fuck, darlin’. You’re so wet…so tight. Always so tight.” He rolls his hips into you sheathing himself completely within the heat of your walls. You’ve never felt so full.

He rocks himself into you over and over, his mouth swallowing your soft whimpers as he kisses you passionately. Your joint moans fill the space around you as he works you towards your climax.

You can feel yourself teetering along the edge and just as you’re about to fall he pulls out causing you to groan in protest. “Joel what….”

He lays himself back on the bed and grabs you so you’re straddling him. “Wanna be able to see you, darlin’. Want you to ride me.” He stares up at you, eyes blown wide with lust, and he watches as you slowly sink onto him.

He groans, head pushing back into the pillow as he grips your hips. “Never gonna get used to the size of you, Joel. Fuck.”

“Need you to move now, darlin’.” His voice is husky with need and when you move your hips above him, he groans loudly, eyes closing as he feels you slide up and down his cock.

“That’s it darlin’…just… just like that. So beautiful like this…. takin’ me so well.” Your head falls back as you come around him, a breathy moan passing your plush lips.

“Fuck…I can feel you coming baby…squeezing me so damn tight.” He groans as he starts to thrust upward meeting your movements and you can feel yourself coming again.

“Oh god, Joel…. I’m…fuck I’m gonna come….” you cry as you flutter around him again. His fingers dig into your hips as he grunts loudly. “God damn, darlin’. You’re so pretty when you come. Gonna look even prettier, round and swollen with my baby.”

Baby?!

“Joel what are you…” He sits up, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight as he fucks up into you.

“Ya heard me, darlin’. Now you need to hush and let fuck you full of me, ya hear. Wanna have you nice and round with my baby.” His breathing was becoming laboured as he neared his release. You came again with a flutter of your cunt at his words, and it sends him over the edge.

His head rests on your breast as he calms his racing heart. Your mind is racing from what just happened. He came inside you. Something he never does. “Did you mean it?” You ask nervously, hoping that he hadn’t just said it in the heat of the moment.

Running your fingers through his hair, he hums, a contented sigh falling from his lips. He pulls back a little so he can look at you. “Meant every word, darlin’. I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot lately. I mean we’re safe here in Jackson. We got family, friends who would help us with the baby.”

He kisses the edge of your mouth. Once. Twice.

“I never thought in a million years I’d want this. Not after Sarah. Not with the way the world is but then I found Ellie, found you and now it’s all I want. I want nothin’ more in this fucked up world than to have a family with you.” His fingers caress your cheeks as he stares intently into your eyes.

A single tear falls down your cheek and you give him a watery smile. “Are you sure?”

“Never been surer about anything, baby. So, what'd ya say?” His eyes flicker between your own and when you nod at him, he pulls you into a heated kiss.

“Best eat that dinner now because I ain’t lettin’ you leave this bed until I’m sure I’ve fucked a baby into you.”

***

Joel was a man of his word.

He had kept you in that bed for days before he went out on patrol again. Making sure he had you full of him.

And sure enough, a month later you had missed a period. Something that never happened. You didn’t even notice at first until you began to feel nauseous all the damn time.

Maria had laughed when you heaved at the smell of her cooking. Some fish dinner Tommy loved, and she had jokingly said ‘you’re not pregnant are you’.

“I think I might be.”

“Oh, my god. Really? This is amazing. Ok ok…eh, I think there are some pregnancy tests over at the Johnsons. Let’s go.”

She pulled you by the hand and led you to the house across the street where she asked Lauren for two tests.

“Here. You want me to come with you while you take them?” She asks, looking down at your slightly shaky hands.

“No. Thanks but if it is positive, I want Joel to be the first to know.” Maria nods in understanding.

“Ok but then you gotta come find me and let me know.” She stares at you with a pointed look.

“I promise.”

***

3 minutes.

The longest three minutes of your life. You pace the length of your bedroom as you wait for the result, too caught up in your own head to notice that Joel has come home and is calling for you.

The door slowly creaking open startles you and you whip your head around to find him looking at you, face full of concern.

“Hey, what’s wrong darlin’?” He asks, voice low as he slowly makes his way to you. His arms slide over your hips to wrap around your back, pulling you close.

His eyes look down at you and you can make out the concern in them. “I-I uh…. I’m late. And I haven’t been feeling too well lately so I…” You worry your bottom lip and tilt your head towards your bedside locker where the white stick is placed.

His eyes drift to where you’re looking and when he sees it his gaze flickers back to you quickly. “Are you?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t looked.”

His fingers move up and down your back in a soothing manner and he smiles down at you. “Let’s look together then. Come on,” he says as he grabs your hand gently in his and leads you to the bed.

Grabbing the stick he looks at you, his face full of love and adoration and you instantly calm. “Ready?” He asks, eyebrows raised in question.

“Yeah.” God, you hope it’s positive. You hope it isn’t just some bug or something. Joel looks so happy right now and you don’t even know if you are yet.

Two pink lines.

Pregnant.

“Does that…. are you?” He gulps nervously as his eyes shift from the stick in his hand to you.

“I’m pregnant. We’re gonna have a baby.” You say with a smile. His eyes instantly light up and you huff out a breath as he pulls you into, both of you falling back on the bed.

His lips are on you the minute your back hits the mattress and his hand rests on your stomach. “Our baby’s in there.” His voice is almost a whisper but it’s full of pride. His face is a myriad of emotions, and you think you can see tears well in his eyes.

“Hey,” you say softly as you cup his cheek in your hand. “You, ok?”

His eyes linger on your stomach for a moment before his gaze meets yours. “Yeah…I- it’s just…Sarah would have loved this. She always wanted a brother or sister just…. I just never found the right person.” He chokes in his words as he tries to hold back the tears.

“She’s still here, Joel. In here,” you say as you point to his heart. He nods. A smile edged its way onto his face.

“Yeah. She woulda liked you. And Ellie.” He trails off as he stares down at his hand on your stomach and your heart breaks for him. Placing your hand atop his, you squeeze it gently. “And we would have loved her. How about, if this baby is a girl, her middle name can be Sarah. To honour her big sister?”

A watery smile adorns his face as he looks at you and nods. “I’d like that.” His hand rests on your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip. “I love you.”

“I love you too. We love you.”

***

Ellie was over the moon when you both told her. Delighted to be becoming a big sister and between herself and Joel, they wouldn’t let you do much.

The protectiveness has only gotten worse as time goes on and you start to show. You’re five months along and your bump has finally popped, something Joel is very proud of.

You’ve seen another side of him since becoming pregnant, a softer side and you wonder if this is how he was before the outbreak.

“Morning baby girl. Hope you slept ok?” His soft voice stirs you from sleep and it takes you a moment to realise he isn’t talking to you. He is talking to your baby.

“Hope you didn’t kick up a storm and keep your mama awake. She needs all the rest so you can grow big and strong. This world is a big scary place, but you don’t gotta worry, because your old man is gonna keep you safe. I’m not gonna fail this time.” His voice cracks a little and you can feel tears building behind your eyes. You want to reach down and comfort him, but you know he needs his time with your baby, so you wait.

“You got so many people here who love you. Me and your mom for one but you also got a big sister who is very special, and she is gonna look out for you no matter what. Then you got your uncle Tommy. He’s an idiot. Don’t tell him I said that. He’s a good man though and he can’t wait to meet you and tell you stories about me and him when we were younger.” He laughs quietly as he rubs his hand over your bump.

“Hopefully not all of them.” He continues to talk about the community in Jackson and when he trails off you reach down and run your fingers through his hair. He releases a contented sigh and lifts his head. “Morning darlin’. You sleep ok?”

“Hmm, best sleep ever. What are you doing?” His face blushes and his gaze drifts to your bump. “Just havin’ a chat with my baby girl.”

“Mmm, and what if it’s a boy? What then?” You say with a smile. His gaze meets yours again and his smile makes the butterflies in your stomach dance.

“Nah, it’s a girl. I can tell.”

***

You weren’t entirely sure when your due date was exactly, but the local doctor had it narrowed down to a certain week. Joel was on patrol for the next two days even though he was supposed to be home. Jason had gotten sick, and they needed an extra hand, so he agreed reluctantly.

Ellie and Maria had assured him they would look out for you until he got back but you could see the anxiety in his eyes when he left.

That was three days ago now and you were beginning to get worried that something had happened. Not only that, but you’d started to get pains across your lower back and you were worried you’d go into labour without him here.

“Hey, you ok? You don’t look so good.” Ellie asks as she walks into the kitchen. You nod your head but then a sharp pain erupts across your stomach, and you bend over with a gasp. Water pools on the floor between your legs. Oh shit.

“Ok. You’re not ok. Let’s get you into bed and then I’m going to get Maria and doc.” She leads you slowly to your bed, helping you in and propping you up with pillows before she rushes out of the house.

You pray that Joel comes home soon. He’ll be so annoyed if he misses this. You hope he’s ok.

“Hey. Ellie tells me you're in pain. Where does it hurt?” Jessica the local doctor asks as she comes to sit on the bed beside you.

“Along my lower back and across my stomach. It’s been on and off since this morning but it’s getting worse.” You clench your teeth as another pain rips through you.

“Ok. I’m just gonna have a look and see how everything is, ok?” Jessica helps remove your trousers and underwear and begins to examine you. Maria and Ellie are standing on either side of the bed and you turn to Maria who smiles down at you.

“Any word? Are they ok?”

She shares a look with Ellie before smiling down at you. “Hey. They’ll be ok. It’s Joel and Tommy, ain’t nothing gonna happen.”

“I need him here. I can’t do this without him.” Your face scrunches in pain as another pain shoots across your stomach.

“Ok, so you’re 5cm dilated. You need to be at ten to push. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything for the pain but I’m gonna be here the whole time, ok?”

You nod.

“You need to breathe through the pain. In and out. In and out.” Jessica breathes in deeply to show you and you imitate her. “Good. Hopefully, we’ll have a baby soon.”

Jessica orders Maria and Ellie around, getting them to gather supplies and then you all just wait.

It gets harder and harder to stay quiet through the pain and eventually your cries of pain echo around the room.

“Go to the gate and see if they’ve heard anything,” Maria asks Ellie and then she’s gone. You turn to Maria who smiles and holds your hand. “I need him.”

“I know. He’ll be here, I promise.” She hopes.

***

“Ok Y/N, I’m gonna need you to push now, ok?” Jessica asks and you shake your head.

“No! No, I can’t. Not without him. I need to wait.” You cry in pain as another contraction spikes.

“I know but the baby is ready to come now. We can’t wait.” Jessica looks at Maria and gives her a knowing look.

“Y/N, Jessica is right. The baby is ready to come. You can do it; I know you can. Joel would want you to.”

Suddenly the door opens, and all eyes are on the intruder. Joel.

“Joel!” You cry as you grip Maria’s hand tight, face scrunching in pain.

“It’s me, baby. I’m here.” He rushes to your side thanking Maria for being there for you. He leans down and kisses the top of your head.

“I thought you were dead.” You sob as tears begin to fall down your cheeks. He rubs the top of your head gently, soothingly.

“I know, baby. But I’m alright. I’m here and I’m ready to meet our baby girl.” He turns to Jessica, “is ok if I get on the bed with her?”

“Sure. It might even help.”

Joel takes off his dirty shoes and removes the pillows from behind you, taking their place. He kisses your cheek and holds your hands in his as he whispers words of encouragement.

“That’s it, baby. Just a little more. You’re doin’ so well.”

You push and push and push and then the room is filled with the cries of a newborn. “Congratulations you two, a beautiful baby girl.”

Jessica hands your baby to Maria who is cleaning her as she cuts the umbilical cord. “I told you it was gonna be a girl, darlin’,” Joel whispers into the shell of your ear as he kisses your neck. “You did so well, baby. I’m so fuckin’ proud of you.”

“Guys she is gorgeous,” Maria coos as she hands you your daughter. She is the image of Joel with her brown eyes and a mop of dark hair on her little head.

You cradle her in your arms and Joel holds you both from behind. A strangled sob escapes his lips, and you turn your head to look back at him. “You, ok?”

He goes to speak but his voice cracks. He closes his eyes for a moment before meeting your worried gaze.

“She’s beautiful. She looks…. she has Sarah’s eyes.” You smile at him before shifting your gaze to her again.

“I forgot how small they are,” he whispers from behind you. “Thank you, darlin’. You’ve given me everything today. I still feel like I don’t deserve it but I’m so fuckin’ happy.”

“Can I hold her?” Ellie asks from beside you and you nod your head before handing her gently to her.

“Mind her head,” Joel says, his face serious as he looks at Ellie. “Don’t worry, I got this.” She beams.

Later that night after you’d delivered the afterbirth and got cleaned up. You relax back against Joel in your shared bed, which is now clean thanks to Maria and Ellie.

Your baby girl is suckling at your breast as you gently rub her cheek. Joel holds you both close as he rests his head on your shoulder. “Ellie is gonna call back in the morning and help make breakfast,” he whispers, trying not to disturb the moment.

You hum.

“What are we gonna name her?” You ask, gaze focused on your daughter.

“Whatever you want darlin’.” His hand rests on your daughter's leg, rubbing soothing circles into her skin.

“How about Olivia Sarah Miller?” You hear him suck in a breath and you turn your head slightly.

“I love it, darlin’. Sarah she…. she uh…she loved the name, Olivia. Always said if I gave her a sister that’s what she wanted her to be named.” His eyes are glazed over, and a single tear runs down his cheek.

“Then it’s perfect.” You look down at her once more and smile. “Welcome to the world Olivia.”

***

6 months later…

You wake with a start, hand brushing over to reach your husband only to find the bed empty. Throwing on one of his shirts you make your way next door to check on your daughter but she’s not there either.

Panic floods you.

As you make your way downstairs the deep timber of his voice calms your racing heart. Without making a sound, you make your way towards the open door and lean against the frame as you take in the sight of Joel on his rocking chair, Olivia nestled into his side.

The sight of him with your daughter has your heart racing and the butterflies fluttering within your stomach. Seeing him like this makes you love him even more.

“I’m gonna build you a swing set right there,” he says as he points to a certain point in the garden.

“Watch you playin’ while me and your momma sit here with our cups of coffee.” You can’t help the snort that passes your lips, and he turns in your direction with a smile on his face.

“Mornin’ darlin’. Sleep ok?”

“Yeah. When did she wake? I didn’t hear her.” You move off the door frame and walk towards them until you're pulled into Joel’s lap. He leans in and kisses you softly on the lips while your daughter giggles beside you.

“Wanted to let you sleep, darlin’. You’ve been exhausted.”

“You, Joel Miller, are too good to me.” You say softly before leaning in and kissing him. “Will I take her off you now?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. We’re havin’ a good chat ain’t we baby girl?” Olivia coos at her daddy and your heart melts.

“Ok, well I’ll go and make us some coffee. Be back in a minute,” you say as you stand, kissing Olivia on the cheek and making your way inside. The sound of Joel’s voice fills your senses, and you smile at his words.

“I love your momma so much, baby girl. I don’t know what I did to deserve her but I’m so grateful she walked into my life and I ain’t ever letting her go.”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader

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builtbybrokenbells · 6 months ago

Text

Poolsides & Pizza Boxes | JTK (2 of 2)

A friendly hangout and an innocent drinking game turns into a troublesome affair.

Read part one here

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 20.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), face-sitting, rough sex, risky sex ig, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, dry humping, dom/sub dynamic, sir kink, degradation, praise, impact play, spit play, brief mentions of free use kink, biting, name calling, hair pulling, slight touch of cum play, multiple orgasm, touch of forced orgasm, simultaneous orgasm, angst (in the beginning), mentions of unrequited love, crying, arguing, feelings of rejection/self-doubt/anger/sadness, fluff, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

here you go ☺️ I can’t wait to hear what you guys think of part two. thank you for all the sweet comments on pt. 1 🤍 as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

The whole group was silent, all of you trying your best to come to terms with the major play Jake made. Eventually, when the silence became too much, Jake let out a nervous laugh. “What, don’t tell me I have to skinny dip?” He asked, only slightly nervous at the thought. “What is it? I can’t see the board.”

“Son of a bitch.” You muttered to yourself, keeping the words under your breath. “You can’t see the board?” You asked, unable to believed he’d been playing the game that way. “Like, the whole time?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He laughed, unsure why it was such a big deal to you. “What did I get?” You turned to face him, your expression grave and the look in your eyes lethal as you caught his gaze.

“Singles kiss, Jake.” You said, slowly. At first, he laughed at your intensity, then as the words began to sink in, his smile faded.

“O-oh,” he replied, swallowing hard at the realization.

“You heard her, Jake.” Josh grinned, thrilled at the twisted turn of events. He sat back, leaning into his partner with a smug smirk on his face. “Singles kiss.”

“Is there another option? Like kiss or drink?” You asked, desperate to get yourself out of the awkward situation.

“That’s not what the board says, darling.” Josh said, crossing his arms over his chest as he awaited your response.

“What about Danny and Sierra! They’re single, too!” You cried, sitting up and throwing your arm in the direction of the two sat side by side. Josh’s expression became quizzical, urging you to look in their direction with his eyes. You turned your head towards them, finding them already in a handsy embrace, lips locked together. Your shoulders slumped under the weight of your grief and your eyes fell to the ground.

“They know how to play by the rules.” Roman piped up, smiling sweetly at you.

“So what? It’s a game, what does it matter?” You argued.

“Honour, my dearest friend!” Josh boomed. “If I can’t trust you now, how could I ever trust you again?” He fought back, just as intense. “I think a kiss is in order, trouble.” Roman nodded in agreement, placing a hand on Josh’s shoulder. You let out a sigh of defeat, knowing there was no way out of the situation. Instead, you turned your head to look at Jake, who still seemed stunned at the prospect.

“Why not, right?” You asked, giving a nervous chuckle.

“Uh, y-yeah.” He nodded, clearing his throat slightly. His eyes were glassy, telling you all you needed to know about his level of intoxication. Before you had a chance to further your conversation, a chorus of chants filled the air.

“Oh, god.” You groaned, covering your face with your hands. The repetition of the word ‘kiss’ was growing louder by the second, and everyone seemed to join in.

“We don’t have to, Jake.” You whispered, trying your hardest to drone out the peer pressure. “I swear, it’s fine.”

“No, s’okay.” He took a deep breath, bargaining with himself. “Part of the game, right? Doesn’t mean anything.” You couldn’t help but feel a stab in your chest when he equated it to nothing. You couldn’t tell him, but you wanted it to at least mean something. That’s all you ever wanted, was to just be something more than you already were, but he never seemed to catch on.

“Yeah, exactly. Doesn’t mean a thing.” You forced a smile out, nodding in agreement. You tried to convince yourself to enjoy it, to kiss him despite knowing it was nothing to him and be happy with it. After all, something was better than nothing, and even if it meant nothing, the action was still better than never doing it at all.

“Right.” Jake nodded, taking a deep breath. “‘Cause we’re friends, you know. Nothing more than that. It’s just a game, and friends kiss all the time, right?” You felt sick as he continued to ration with himself, unable to tell him how badly he was hurting you with his drunken rambling.

“Y-yeah, f’course they do.” You agreed, your words strained and your chest aching. What happened to the pool, when he was so eager to be so close and he was disappointed when you broke the contact? What happened to the wandering hands and the excitement that was impossible to hide? Did he really only feel that way about you because he wanted sex, and now that he had time to think, he knew better than that? “We don’t have to do this, Jacob.” You reiterated your point, ensuring he knew you weren’t forcing him to go along with the idea.

“No, it’s okay.” He said again, his words firm. Finally, a flash of the man that held you in the pool began to resurface, and you felt your fears ease for a moment. “Who knows? It might be nice.” He offered, his eyes scanning your face for any discomfort. The chanting in the background still hadn’t ceased, but it became easier to drone it out when you were focused on his face. He was breathtakingly beautiful, and you weren’t sure if it was helping or doing nothing other than making you more nervous.

“Yeah, it might be nice.” Your lips twitched into a small smile, happy at the thought. His hand on your hip tightened, a small reassurance that he was okay and comfortable with the situation.

“Come here, then.” He said, placing the beer bottle in his cup holder and raising his hand to your cheek. His palm cupped your face, the warmth radiating through you and making your heart beat just a little bit faster. You shifted slightly, giving yourself better access to him. “You look very pretty today, trouble.” He smiled, trying to make the whole thing a little more natural for you.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Jacob.” You returned the sentiment, biting down on the inside of your lip as your cheeks dusted red. You thanked the night sky for making your blushing all the less obvious. He leaned forward slightly, taking in a shaky breath as you copied his action.

It felt like the world was in slow motion, and the two of you were frozen together in time. As his nose brushed yours, similar to how it did earlier that day, your entire body flooded with an unfamiliar feeling. You had never felt so strongly about anyone, and now that you had the opportunity to express yourself even in the slightest of ways, you could barely contain your excitement. He brushed the hair from your face, resting his forehead on yours as he continued to move closer. You were almost there, your lips so close to his that you could practically feel them on your own. Your stomach was twisted in a knot and your eyes fluttered closed as you prepared for the final moment.

You leaned forward to bridge the gap, but a sudden and unexpected move on his part threw you off course completely. Just as your lips were about to connect with his own, he turned his head. His forehead slipped off of yours, and your lips landed on his cheek. Your eyes snapped open, your entire body flooded with embarrassment as you realized he had rejected you in the most blunt and painful way possible, in front of all of your friends.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” he muttered, his eyes squeezed shut from his own embarrassment. “I can’t.” You recoiled as if he shot you, your entire body ablaze with his rejection and your eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“You can’t.” You repeated, allowing the words to sink in. You took in a shaky breath, looking over his apologetic stare one last time. “Right.” You nodded, making quick work at sliding off his lap and standing on your feet. Your whole body was numb from the plethora of pain in your heart, and you stumbled as you took a step backwards trying to get away from him.

“Trouble, wait.” Jake said, making a move to stand and follow you. You shook your head, carefully weaving through the chairs and making your way towards the door. As tears spilled on to your cheeks, you slid inside and closed the door behind you, feeling like your head was going to explode. You made it through the kitchen and halfway up the stairs before you heard yelling from outside through the open windows, and you made it to your bedroom door before the sliding door in your kitchen opened once again.

You closed your bedroom door and locked it before you let the tears really begin to roll. The moment of seclusion allowed for you to feel the rejection a million times more. You couldn’t believe you were naïve enough to think he would ever feel the same way about you, and stupid enough to believe that you even had a chance. Now, you knew better, and so did everyone else in your life. You were disappointed that he did not feel the same, but you were more upset that he showed you in such a blunt manner in front of so many people. You wished he could have just said no, rather than lead you to believe he would and then change his mind at the drop of a dime, moments later.

A knock on your door shook you from the thought momentarily, but not enough to stop the flow of tears. “Come on, trouble. Talk to me, please.” The voice did nothing but strike another wave of sadness within you.

“Go away, Jake.” You argued, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I can hear you crying, beautiful.” He bargained with you. “Let me explain.”

“No need, Jacob. I heard you, loud and clear.” You dismissed him, knowing that there was no explanation that could atone for the hurt he caused. You couldn’t let him see you in such a state, especially when he knew it was over him.

“Okay.” He sighed. “Everyone is pretty drunk, so they’re going to head to bed. Come and find me when you want to talk.” He waited, hoping you would open the door, but he was met with nothing. He stood for a few moments longer, wondering if you would at least say something, even if he didn’t deserve it. When you solidified your stance on the matter, you could hear him begin to retreat downstairs.

You let out a long breath, doing all you could to calm yourself down. You discarded the still damp bikini from your body, walking through the door to your ensuite bathroom. You flipped the faucet on in the bathtub and pulled the stop for the shower head. You let the water heat up before you climbed inside, beginning a slow process of cleaning the chlorine and misery from yourself. You washed your hair before dousing it in conditioner, slowly combing through the knots with your fingers. When it was fully coated, you used a clip to hold it to your head while you washed your body. By the time you rinsed the suds from your skin, the sobs had slowed to an occasional tear, leaving nothing but puffy eyes and a red nose. You rinsed your hair and stepped out, wrapping yourself in the biggest towel you could find.

You washed any remaining makeup from your skin and put on some lotion to sooth the irritation from crying. You towel dried your hair and stepped back into your bedroom to change. At your closet, you brushed past all of the shirts belonging to Jake, finding the clothes too painful to look at. Eventually, you settled on a large t-shirt that you had stolen from your older brother nearly a decade ago. You slipped it on, finding it fall to your mid-thigh. You grabbed a pair of underwear from one of the drawers in your dresser and stepped into them.

By the time you were dressed, most of the sadness had passed, settling into a dull ache as you approached the window of your bedroom. You gazed out into the yard, noticing the patio was empty, and clean. All of the beer bottles had been thrown out, along with the dreaded pizza box. The pool floaties had been pulled out of the water and sat to dry on the cement. A sad smile crossed your lips, knowing it was likely Jake who had done so in an attempt to apologize. You let out a sigh, crawling into bed and under the covers after plugging your phone in to charge. You let your head rest on the pillows, figuring that sleeping away the misery was the best way to go about it. In the morning, you would have a clear head and a better chance at resolving things peacefully.

You were angry and hurt, embarrassed and resentful over the entire situation, but Jake was your best friend. No matter what, you never wanted that to change. In the years of friendship with him, the two of you had never fought over anything substantial, and never over anything like this. It was killing you to be mad at him at all, but you couldn’t help it. You stared up at the ceiling, listening to the clock tick away the minutes as you remained wide awake. For some reason, sleep did not seem to want to come, and it was growing more irritating by the second.

Eventually, you let out a huff of discontent as the material of your comforter became scratchy against your bare legs. You turned over to face your nightstand, reaching for the glass of water that always seemed to be there. When you were met with nothing but your alarm and a half-empty bottle of perfume, you collapsed against the mattress and let out a groan of anger.

You figured that everyone would be asleep by now; the long day of swimming and drinking in the sun would be taking its toll. One couple would take post in your office, sharing the unusually comfortable futon. Someone else would be in the guest room, and one couple on an air mattress in the downstairs living room. Usually, when life was normal and you and Jake weren’t fighting, he would be upstairs with you, already fast asleep without a worry in the world. Knowing him so well, you figured he either drank himself to sleep on the couch or angrily stumbled home, waiting to text you as soon as the sun rose in the sky.

You and Jake worked so well as friends because you knew how each other worked. You knew what he was thinking without him saying it, and he knew how you were feeling just by the look on your face. The two of you knew when to take a step back to avoid a fight, because space was important to both of you and communicating only worked when you weren’t angry. It was a huge comfort knowing someone so well, because it allowed for the two of you to lean on each other when times were tough.

This time, you had no idea where to start.

In the pool, he was keen on the idea of touching you and holding you, and definitely okay with the position you were in. He was sad when you pulled away, disappointed that things got cut short. When he had the opportunity to kiss you, he completely disregarded it and embarrassed you in front of everyone. He chalked it up to two friends locking lips as a joke as if he wasn’t feeling you up an hour before when everyone was gone. You didn’t know what he was thinking, certainly not what he was feeling, and it was killing you.

Then, the worst thought of all struck you.

Did he only want to be with you when nobody else was looking? Was he embarrassed about being attracted to you, or did he really not feel that way about you at all and dreaded the idea of anyone thinking he did?

‘Stop it, Y/N.�� You forced the thoughts out of your head, knowing overthinking wouldn’t do anything but worsen the problem. You would talk to him in the morning when you both cooled down, and you would settle the score. You would go back to being friends, because it’s what you were good at. You weren’t good with romance, and the only time your relationship was complicated was when you started to think of him as something more.

Water.

Water would fix it. You would sneak downstairs past sleeping drunkards and grab a nice glass of water from the fridge. It would clear your head and curb the oncoming hangover, and it would put you to sleep, which you desperately needed.

You climbed from the bed, knowing there was no sense in searching for a pair of pyjama pants when everyone was asleep, anyway. Quietly, you snuck out of your room and down the stairs, hearing snores from your office and the guest bedroom. You walked past the living room, sneaking a peek and Josh and Roman fast asleep on the air mattress on the floor. A small smile crossed your lips, even if you were annoyed with the two for being a catalyst in your current fight with Jake. You turned the corner to the kitchen, carefully maneuvering around the chairs pulled from the table. Before you could reach the refrigerator door, you froze in your tracks.

“What are you doing, Jake?” You sighed, looking to him sitting at the head of the table, leaned back in the chair with his ankles crossed. He was shirtless, clad only in a pair of sweatpants and his hair was slightly damp. As angry and as hurt as you were, you could not refute how attracted you were to him.

“Waiting for you.” He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He rolled his eyes at your quizzical look, giving a sigh of his own before he continued. “I lived with you for almost a year, Y/N. I know you need a glass of water by your bed, or you can’t sleep. I knew you would come down to get it, so I waited for you… and here you are.” He motioned to you, standing only in a t-shirt with a dumbfounded look on your face.

“Go home, Jake.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and opening the fridge. You filled it from the pitcher, placing it back in its spot and kicking the door shut.

“I’m not going home until we talk about it.” He said, his lips turned down into a frown.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I heard you, loud and clear.” You reiterated your point from earlier, trying to hide the distaste in your tone. You turned to walk back into the hallway, almost escaping before he started again.

“There is.” He argued, trying to keep his voice quiet as he begged you to stay. He didn’t want anyone to wake up, to interrupt the moment he’d been waiting all night for. You paused in your tracks, picking up on the urgency in his tone and realizing that maybe you should stay, just to listen at least. Then, as you stood in place, the anger began to return to you.

“What? So we can talk about how bad you don’t want to kiss me? The thought was so terrible that you couldn’t even muster up the strength to do it once? For a game?”

“Y/N, that’s not—“

“No, it is, Jake. I asked you if you wanted to stop, twice! I said we didn’t have to do it, but you said you would, and you made me look like the fucking idiot for thinking that you might actually want to.” You said, pointing a finger at him as tears began to brim your eyes again. “And even if you did, it would mean nothing, right? ‘Cause it was just for the game, and friends kiss all the time. No big deal.” You scoffed, ready to turn on your heel again and leave.

“Christ, Y/N, what is your problem?” He asked, the intensity of the moment growing by the second. He stood from the table, desperate to get to the bottom of your anger. “I get it, that was a terrible thing to say, but I was nervous, and I was put on the spot. I’m sorry I panicked!”

“There’s no ‘but’, Jacob! I mean, what the fuck?” You exclaimed, raising your hand in frustration and letting it fall back to your side. “In the pool, when everyone was gone, you had no problem with it. Clearly, you enjoyed it! So, what is it? You’re only interested in me when nobody’s around to judge you for it?” He physically recoiled at the sound of your words, a look of horror crossing his face as he realized that’s what you thought. He took three long strides towards you, grabbing your arms in his hand as he prepared to confess the truth about the matter.

“You know better than that, trouble.” He said, his words firm but his tone returning to normal. “It’s not like that; you have to believe me.”

“Then what is it, Jake? Because that’s what it feels like, and it’s killing me, and—“

“If you let me talk for a second, I will tell you!” He cut you off, tightening his grip on your arms as he shook you out of the moment of rambling. It was gentle, playful, and exactly what you needed to snap out of it. A laugh fell from your lips, quiet but definitely noticeable. He smiled back, happy to know that despite the confusion and pain, you and him were still the same people.

“Sorry.” You said, sheepishly looking towards the floor. “I get too intense sometimes.”

“Yeah, you think?” He laughed, lifting your chin with his finger so he could take a good look over your face. “It’s okay, trouble. I know you, and it’s okay.” He assured you. “Can I talk now, please? I’ve been sitting here for two hours, looking like an idiot.”

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, giving a sad smile. You felt bad for accusing him of such things, but your own head was your worst enemy. That in addition to the fact you had never really fought with Jake before made for a deadly combination.

“I wanted to, Y/N, just not like that.” He said, making sure you were actually listening to what he was saying.

“Not like that?” You cocked your head to the side, curious about what he truly meant.

“No, not like that.” He sighed. “Not as a part of a game, when everyone was watching. I didn’t want that for us, trouble.”

“What do you want for us, Jake?” You asked, your voice quiet and your heart aching.

“I…” he trailed off, his expression dropping slightly. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” You asked, hurt but trying to remain calm.

“I don’t! What do you want, trouble?” You thought about his words, shifting uncomfortably on your feet as he put you on the spot.

“I don’t know, either.”

“So stop making me sound like the bad guy! This is weird and confusing, and we’ve never been in this situation before.” He pleaded. You nodded again, sad that you couldn’t seem to stop saying the wrong thing.

“The pool, Jake. What was that?”

“The heat of the moment, I guess?” He said, giving a slight shrug. “You looked so pretty, and you held on to me like that, and it felt good. It felt like the right thing to do at the time.”

“But not now?” You asked, trying to get to the bottom of it. You were so confused, still sad and angry, but relieved that the two of you were at least trying to work it out.

“Stop putting words in my mouth, Y/N. I didn’t say that.” He snapped, his fuse running short.

“You know what, Jake? It’s fine. This is all fine, water under the bridge, forgotten about. We make great friends, we’ve always been good at it, so let’s not fuck it up, now.” You forced the words out, wanting to say anything but that, but it seemed like the only way to make things better. He didn’t know how he was feeling, and if he didn’t know, you certainly couldn’t confess how you felt. “You don’t have to kiss me, and you don’t have to feel bad about not wanting to. It’s okay, and we can wake up tomorrow like it never happened.” You breathed, taking a step away from him.

“That’s it? That’s what you want to do?”

“No, but it seems like you do!” You shot back. “Goodnight, Jake. I’ll see you in the morning.” You turned towards the stairs, trying to hold back your tears until you were alone again, but before you could make it to the hallway, he reached out and grabbed your hand.

When he spun you around, you expected the argument to continue. You expected tears to fall and him to agree with your sentiments in the end, making the fight worth little at all. Instead, once you were facing him, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer. Before you could process what he was doing, one hand came up to hold the back of your head as he brought his lips to yours. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. His lips were soft, slick with saliva as they moved against your own, and he tasted sweet. His hands on you made your head spin, the strength in which he was holding you could only be equated to his own desperation, and your heart was threatening to beat straight out of your chest.

As the kiss continued, you feared you would drop the glass of water straight on the floor, but you didn’t care enough to stop him. You were on top of the world, the moment even better than any of the fallacies and daydreams you’d created in your mind. Finally, after so long of pining for him, you had him, and you never wanted to let him go.

Eventually, he pulled away, but did not move very far. His forehead rested on your own, and his shoulders shook with the heavy breaths he was taking. Both of you were at a loss for words, but you felt the need to say something.

“Did you shower? You smell like me.” You asked, nervous and unsure if your question would ruin the whole thing. Thankfully, he let out a laugh, nodding gently against you.

“Yeah, I did. I miss when you lived at my house and I stole your shampoo when mine ran out. It’s always so much better.”

“Right.” You swallowed hard, smiling at him as you tried to feel out the emotion in the room. You didn’t know what he was thinking, and it was bothering you more than you cared to admit. Rarely was there a time when you couldn’t read him, but the entire day had been strange and unusual.

“I wanted to kiss you, trouble. I have for a long time, but I wanted to do it right. I’m sorry I hurt you. I really didn’t want to, but it would have hurt more if you thought it didn’t mean anything to me.” He explained. “And in the pool, I wanted to do that, too. I’ve been thinking about it since I came up with the idea of getting a pool. I know you choose not to see it, and that’s okay, but I’m crazy about you, Y/N, and I have been for a really long time. If they hadn’t come back, I would’ve had my way with you right there in the pool if you would have let me.”

“Jake…” you breathed, unable to process everything all at once. You wanted to jump for joy, to tell him you felt the same way and you were ecstatic to hear him say it, but you were frozen in place. You waited so long to hear it that you had a hard time believing it was real.

“It means something to me, trouble. It means so much to me and I was scared that it wouldn’t mean anything to you. Friends don’t kiss all of the time, and I’m kissing you because as much as I love being your friend, I want more than that. Waking up next to you every day was the best feeling in the whole world, even if it wasn’t the way I wanted to. I want you, Y/N, and I’m not embarrassed about it, or anything like that. I’m scared, and I didn’t want you to see it.”

“It means something to me too, Jake. It means everything to me, and I was so scared you didn’t feel the same way. I want that, too. I want it so bad that it makes my chest hurt and my head spin, and I deny it so much when Josh says it because I was terrified of losing you.” You explained, setting your glass down on the table. “I was heartbroken when I thought you didn’t want to kiss me, because that’s all I want you to do.”

“Then let me do it.” He said, serious but playful. A smile was on his lips, showing how happy he was that everything was out in the air. “Stop trying to run away, or say goodnight, because I don’t want to go to sleep, and I want to kiss you, trouble. Let me make up for it, please.”

“Okay.” You giggled, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Kiss me, then.” With that, he leaned forward, both of his hands dropping to your hips as he brought his lips to yours once again.

This time, it was more comfortable and less urgent. His fingers tightened on you, the fabric of your shirt bunching up in his hands as he pulled you closer. You tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, the feeling strange but something you were excited to get used to. Everything about the kiss was perfect, exactly what you hoped it would be, but somehow even better than that. It had little to do with the action itself, and everything to do with how right it felt to be in his arms in such a way. After so many years, the both of you knew that it would eventually lead to this, but self-doubt and fear got in the way. It seemed as though everyone else knew long before you did.

When his tongue pushed past your lips, the moment seemed more real than it did before. The taste of him on your tongue sent you spiralling, your body quickly remembering how good it felt to be so close to him. The sexual tension from the pool had left both of you confused and curious, wondering how the situation evolved so quickly. Now that you understood how good it felt to kiss him, you knew the situation did not evolve quickly at all. In fact, it took you years to get there, and one awkward fight over a drinking game.

This was where you were meant to be all along, but both of you were too stubborn to admit it. All of the failed talking stages and flings that amounted to nothing more finally made sense; you were looking for the perfect person in all the wrong places, because he was standing in front of you the whole time, buying kiddie pools and getting ice cream on summer days. He was there, buying plane tickets to see you when your friends hurt your feelings and getting front row seats to every graduation. He was there, calling you every night to see if you were okay, doing everything in his power to keep you happy, and helping you move into his house when you needed him.

Jake was the person you were looking for all along, and you were the same to him; you never needed any romantic fulfillment, because a romantic relationship with someone else paled in comparison to spending every day with Jake, even if it was platonic. He understood you, he cared about you, and he loved you unconditionally, no matter the situation. Talking stages always failed with someone else because you had always been in love with and waiting for him.

The intensity of the kiss did not take long to grow, leaving both of you feeling a little more desperate and a lot more confident. His hands slipped under your shirt, his fingers tracing the seam on your underwear on your hip. You couldn’t help but feel like he was wearing too many clothes, and you were thrown right back into the endless pit of emotion you were stuck in as you were wrapped around him in the pool.

His hands flattened against the back of your thighs as he crouched down slightly. He pulled back only for a second as he lifted you off your feet. A gasp left your lips at the sudden movement, and as an instinctual reaction, you locked your legs around his waist. His hands settled on your ass, his grip firm to reassure you that he would never let you fall. The new position was comfortable and exciting, your hips now meeting his in a long overdue reuinion.

“Remember what I said about starting things you couldn’t finish?” He asked, his voice thick with emotion as he looked over your face. His lips were swollen, pink from the constant attention you were giving him, and they were permanently upturned into an irritatatingly beautiful smile.

“Something like that, yeah.” You said, purposefully acting forgetful to get on his nerves. “I think it was you that started it, though.”

“No sweetheart, that was you, walking around in that slutty little bikini all day.” He corrected, taking a step towards the kitchen table. “Sitting on my lap and expecting me not to fuck you?” Your face flushed at his words and you felt the familiar ache between your legs. “Now I have to finish this, and that means we do it my way.” He said, his voice quiet but his tone gruff. He sat you down in the edge of the kitchen table, looking over your face to see any sign of discomfort. “That sound good to you, beautiful?”

��Yes, s-si—“ you cut yourself off, your face burning red as you realized how you were about to address him. He noticed your sudden change of heart, furrowing his brows as he gave you quizzical stare. How were you supposed to address him? Sir seemed like too much for the first time, and you didn’t want to cross any boundaries with him.

‘Daddy?’ You thought to yourself, wondering if maybe he would prefer that. You looked over his face for a moment, feeling stupid for even thinking that. ‘Absolutely not.’ You felt ridiculous for even questioning something like that, and all you wanted to do was shy away from him. It had been so long since you had done anything sexual that all of your game seemed to disappear. That, and the fact that he made you unbelievably nervous. ‘Stop overthinking this. It’s Jake, you know him, and he knows you. It’s fine.’

“What’s wrong, trouble?” He asked, concerned about your sudden withdrawal. You snapped out of your thoughts, your stomach churning with unease and unfortunately, the most intense sexual desire you’d ever felt in your entire life. The entire situation was new, and it was scary. You had known Jake for so long, but never like this, and you were terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing.

“I just… I don’t know how to do this.” You confessed, the words rushing out in a mess of awkward laughter.

“You… you don’t know how to do this?” He raised an eyebrow, an amused expression on his face.

“No, not like that!” You laughed, defending yourself. “I know how to have sex, but I don’t know how to have sex with you.” You clarified. Now, he was laughing with you, and although the awkward moment had passed, you were still embarrassed about slowing the momentum between you.

“I would like to think that it would be the same as having sex with anyone else… except, you know, better, maybe?” You felt like you were going to shrivel up and die at the sound of his words. You had to talk to him, to communicate the things you were feeling, but you couldn’t. It had never been so hard to talk to him before about anything, and you knew it was due to the plethora of feelings coursing through you all at once. You never actually believed the two of you would end up in a situation like this one, and you were terrified of everything.

“I would imagine that it would be the same, Jake.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest in attempt to hide yourself from him. “As for better, I don’t know yet, so I can’t really comment any further.” At that, another laugh fell from his lips, making you realize he was more than okay with the pause. He wasn’t judging you, and he didn’t think you were stupid; in fact, the whole thing was probably just as strange for him as it was for you. “I just… this is weird, right? We’ve been friends for so long, and I don’t know how we’re supposed to have sex.”

“Okay, then. Let’s talk it out.” He said, giving you a genuine smile to let you know he was more than okay with it. “Usually, I start with taking some clothes off, but if that’s not your thing, we can work around it. Then—“ you cut him off with a smack on the arm, laughing but slightly annoyed with his inability to take you seriously.

“Jake, I mean it.” You laughed, smiling up at him in disbelief.

“I know, sweetheart, I’m just trying to make you feel better.” He chuckled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “I know you, and I know you can’t do anything without talking about it first, so let’s talk. It’s me, trouble, you don’t have to be scared of anything.”

“I know, I’m sorry, but isn’t this just a little weird for you? It’s hot, like really hot, and I really want to do it, but like… what do I call you? Is there things that you don’t like that I shouldn’t do? Or are you into really weird stuff that I’ll have to learn to like?” You asked, your face burning as you squeezed in one last joke. Another laugh shook his shoulders, and you relaxed again. You were overthinking something that was so simple; the dynamic between you two was always so easygoing, and this should be too.

“No weird stuff, I promise.” He laughed, cupping your cheek in his palm. “Well, unless you consider relatively normal things weird, I guess.”

“What does that mean?” You felt yourself start to panic again, but the sound of his laugh soothed your mind.

“Baby, stop freaking yourself out.” He hummed, tilting your head upwards towards him. You felt your heart skip a beat at such a domestic sounding pet name. It felt so good to be called such a thing by him, and even better that it felt like you were his. “It’s just me.” He reiterated the same point.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, Jake.” You sighed, reaching up and placing a hand over his. He leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything.” He promised. “Let’s talk about it, I know it’ll make you feel better.”

“Yeah, it will.” You agreed, letting out a small sigh.

“Ask away.” He said, running his thumb over your cheek. The sensation felt so good, so normal for the two of you. You were being crazy, and you knew it.

“What do you prefer to be… called?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I’ll answer to whatever you call me… Jake, baby, or any variation of that really… Uhm, lover, but only if you’re really into it.” At that, the both of you shared a childish giggle. His lighthearted response eased all of the work in your mind. “And… sir, too.” He cleared his throat slightly after he said it, averting his gaze as if he was nervous to say it.

“Really? I think I prefer lover.” You grinned, joining in on the joke. He rolled his eyes, playful and relaxed as he did so. “Sir is good.” You said, finally deciding to take him seriously. “I haven’t done this in a really long time, Jake, and I’m scared it’s not going to be… good for you, you know?”

“You could slap me in the face and leave me here all night, and I’m sure I’d still enjoy it, because you’re the one who did it.” He replied, clearly more comfortable when the two of you were joking. “You don’t need to worry about that, angel. I want you, and we’ll figure the rest out, okay?”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Good.” He crooned, leaning down and placing a small kiss to your lips. “I’m not going to be too rough with you, but if you need to stop, just tell me. I want you to feel good. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Okay.” You breathed. “You can be a little rough, you know, if you feel like it.” As the words reached his ears, his eyebrows raised and his mouth parted slightly in shock, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say such a thing.

“Okay,” he said, a gleam of excitement in his eye. “Now that that’s settled, I’ll tell you how this is going to work.” He continued, his voice still gentle, but a little more domineering. “I’m in charge, beautiful. Don’t get that twisted.” He leaned forward, pressing a tentative kiss to your jaw. A shiver of excitement ran down your spine as you felt his lips touch you again.

Slowly, he brought his attention down your neck, exploring the soft skin so he could know you a little better. As his lips landed atop the sensitive spot just below your ear, a breathy moan left your lips, barely noticeable even in the static silence. He let out a hum of satisfaction, happy to have found a sweet spot already. His tongue ran over the area, gentle as he tested his limits. When your hand raised to his bicep, grasping it and pulling him closer, he suctioned his lips to your neck and sucked a mark into the skin.

“If you’ll let me, I’m going to finish what you started, but you have to be good for me, okay?” He said, his lips still ghosting over the love bite he left on your neck.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, much more comfortable with the word now that you talked to him about it.

“That’s it, baby.” You could feel him smile against you. The praise washed over you, settling deep in the pit of your stomach and prompting a rush of emotion straight to your core. A new found confidence washed over you, and you brought your free hand between your bodies and reached down. You wanted to feel him, to know he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him. Your hand settled over the bulge in his sweatpants, his cock hard and aching for relief just the same as it was in the pool. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth at the feeling of you touching him, clearly enjoying anything you were willing to give him.

Without thinking too much about it, you began to palm him through his boxers, the pressure just enough for him to feel it through the fabric, and enough to show your enthusiasm now that the awkwardness had melted away.

“Do you get it now? Do you feel how fucking bad I want you?” He hissed, his mouth still hovering over your neck. His warm breath on your skin was exhilarating, and the words he was saying was music to your ears. “Do you know what I would have done to you if they waited to come back, just a little while longer?” You wanted to squeeze your thighs together, just for a touch of relief from the incessant throbbing between your legs, but you didn’t fully thing it through before you did so. As your legs came together, all it did was pull him closer to you, making the sensation so much worse.

“What did you want to do to me, baby?” You asked, playing innocent in hopes that he would continue talking to you. The sound of his voice was overwhelming in the best possible way, the only constant, familiar comfort amidst all of the new sensations.

“I would have bent you over the side of that fucking pool and showed you how much you mean to me.” He said, his gruff tone doing nothing to satiate your need for him. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? Waking up to you every morning, sleeping beside me and having to force myself out of that bed.” He muttered the last part more to himself, still angry that he never found the courage to make a move sooner. “And you thought you were smart, but I knew what you were doing, sweetheart. Every morning, you moved just a little bit closer, and I woke up to that perfect little ass pressed up against me. Did you want me to fuck you, or did you just want to see how far you could take it before you got yourself in trouble?”

With that, he used his hand on your hip to pull you closer to the edge of the table. You retracted your hand from between you, and as he guided you forward, your legs wrapped around him, pulling him further into you. Through clothing, his cock brushed against your core, finally giving you a breath of relief from the growing discomfort.

Then, in a moment of clarity, it all made perfect sense.

Trouble.

He’d been calling you that for so long, you never thought twice about it. The silly nickname carried you through years of your life, calming and comforting as he spoke it through laughs and sometimes tears. Never once did you think that it meant anything more, but now that he spoke the word in a new context, you understood that it meant everything. You had been torturing him for years, just the same as he was doing to you.

“You don’t call me that for no reason, sir.” You breathed, wondering if maybe you thought too much into it, but when he forcefully pulled you forward onto him again and you could feel him smiling against your skin, you knew you hit the nail on the head.

“Took you long enough.” He muttered, his head raising from the crook of your neck to look over your face. “Pretty girl like you causes nothing but trouble.” Your cheeks reddened under his stare once again, but the smile on your face made you forget about it completely.

“You proud of yourself for that one?” You asked, teasing him slightly.

“Got away with it, didn’t I?” Your cheeks hurt from the smile that had stayed constant on them. You were happy, more than you had ever been in your entire life, and you never wanted to let go of the feeling.

“Come here.” You mumbled, hooking your arm around his neck and pulling his face down to meet yours. He wrapped his arms around you, his entire upper body pressed against yours as he kissed you back. His hands found the bottom of your shirt, bunching the fabric in his hands as he began to pull it away from your body. You parted from him just for long enough for him to slide it over your head, and then he was kissing you again.

With the friction he was providing between your legs and your bare chest pressed against his, you couldn’t help but let a moan escape into his mouth. He drank in the sound as if it were necessary for his survival, thriving off it and using it as motivation to continue. Eventually, he moved further down, trailing kisses from your hat to the base of your neck, and then over your collarbone.

“I did want you to fuck me, Jake.” You confessed, finally answering the question he’d asked moments before. “I wanted it so bad. I dreamt about it every night.” You panted, breathless from the overwhelming sensation of his tongue on your skin and your racing heart.

“You should have asked, trouble.” He crooned, slightly disappointed that you never said a word about it. “You know I would have taken care of you. I always do.”

“You do,” you agreed, feeling his head drift even lower. “But that’s not what I was dreaming about, Jake.” You continued, watching him freeze just as he was about to let his tongue trail over your hardened nipple. His eyes flickered upwards, looking over your face as he processed what you were saying. “I know you always take care of me, baby. I wanted to take care of you, to thank you for everything you do for me.” You watched as his pupils engulfed his irises, enticed by your words and crazed with desire for you. You were no different, so far gone that you did not care that you were going to let him fuck you in the kitchen while your friends slept soundly in the other room. You wanted him so bad, and you weren’t sure you could last another minute without him. “Let me do it now, please?” You whispered, sticking your bottom lip out into a slight pout.

“Always so concerned about everyone else, trouble.” He whispered, straightening himself up. He wasn’t stupid enough to deny you of that, so he figured he’d let you have your way first, then he could use the rest of the night to showcase his own desire to please. “You know I’ve always told you to take what’s yours.” He slurred, drunk off lust and already imagining how good your mouth would feel on him. You couldn’t quite grasp the emotion that took over at the sound of his words. Take what’s yours, as if he belonged to you, and you were his.

You slid off of the table, making sure your landing was quiet and secure. You held on to the edge of the table until you were sure you were steady on your feet, and then you took a step towards him. You tried to swallow your nerves, framing yourself as confident as your hands reached out for him. This was something you had unashamedly thought about hundreds of times, but now that the opportunity arose, you were far more anxious than you once thought you would be.

“Hi, beautiful.” He smiled down at you, his eyes soft and his smile warm. In an instant, your fear disappeared, replaced with a blossoming love for him deep in your chest.

“Hi, baby.” You breathed, the word still foreign on your tongue, but feeling better every time you spoke it.

You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of his shoulder. Your fingers drifted over his bare arms, starting there as you worked up the courage to continue. You kept the touch featherlight as it drifted across his stomach and down to the waistband of his sweatpants. You tried not to notice the shiver that ran through him as your fingers dipped below the elastic, doing nothing but teasing him as he awaited your next move. Carefully, you began to crouch down, keeping your movement slow as you pressed kisses to his chest when your mouth passed by.

By the time you were on your knees in front of him, you had little care about embarrassing yourself anymore. The state he was in was your driving force, and you found yourself unable to think of anything other than pleasing him. With one final breath of courage, you pushed past the last boundary that remained between the two of you. You pulled his pants down off of his hips, ensuring that his boxers came down with them. With a hard swallow, you took a moment to digest the situation and its entirety. You were on your knees, eye level with his cock as he watched you, studying every move you were making.

Your gaze flickered up to meet his, innocent and doe-eyed as you gave him a smile. Before your mouth was even on him, his eyes were rolling back in his head. The thought alone was enough to drive him mad, and anything that came after was just one push closer to the edge of insanity. You leaned forward, parting your lips slightly, and you let your tongue rest against your bottom lip. Your mouth landed on the tip of his cock, your tongue gliding over it as the taste of pre-cum filled your senses.

You let out a hum of pleasure, the saltiness causing your mouth to water as your eyes fluttered closed. You moved your head down a little further, taking him into your mouth without ever moving your tongue away from its original position. It felt good. It felt right. You let the saliva build up on your tongue as you flattened it against the underside of his dick, ensuring that it was well lubricated before moving any further.

He was big, definitely much more than you were used to, but you tried not to let it intimidate you as you began to bob your head down on him. At first, you kept it slow, carefully calculating every move you made. Then, a strangled cry left his mouth as his tip hit the back of your throat, and all inhibitions seemed to flee your body. In response, you moaned against him as you moved your head back, the vibration furthering the pleasure he was already getting from your mouth.

“Fuck, angel.” He panted, reaching down and brushing the hair from your face. As a courtesy, he gathered it behind your head and knotted it around his fist, making it a little more comfortable for you. You opened your eyes, needing to catch a glimpse of his face to keep you going. Sometimes, it seemed like it was the only thing that could.

He was looking down at you, his hair falling in front of his face to frame his perfect features. His eyebrows were furrowed together, the wrinkles on his forehead that usually showed his concentration began to pop. His jaw was clenched, the muscles taut as he tried to hold back every sound he was desperate to make. He looked more beautiful than he ever had, and it only made you want to work harder.

The man before you was many things; your best friend, of course, but it always ran a little bit deeper than that. He was one who held great kindness in his heart and love in his eyes no matter where he was or who he was with. He was sweet, soft spoken at times but louder than anyone the next. He was funny, always having a quip lined up or a punchline to spew. More than that, he was yours. Even before your tearful confessions that ensued not even an hour before, he was just that. He would leave anything behind at the drop of a dime if you needed something, and his usual kindness grew tenfold if you were the one in question. He loved to love, but most of all, he loved to love you, in every way he knew how.

Halfway across the world, playing on stages in front of thousands, you were always at the front of his mind. He ran off stage every night to text you, just to tell you how it went and say he wished you were there to share the moment. He opened his home to you without a promise of anything at all, and most importantly, he built you a fucking pool.

Three hours ago, you were near shameful of how strongly you felt for him, but you had no reason to be. He was your best friend, but everyone else knew just as well as you that he was always more than that. There was no shame in falling in love with Jake, because it would be impossible not to. Now that he was truly yours, in every way, you would bend over backwards to make him happy. What you were doing in that moment only felt like a glimpse in time of a lifetime you would spend thanking him for everything he’d already done and would continue to do for you.

As your head sunk down on him again, his hand tightened in your hair. His grip was growing stronger with every bob of your head, and you knew he was doing all he could to hold himself back. As nice as the gesture was, you would have been perfectly fine had he decided to take control.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he hissed through his teeth, his stare intense as he spoke the words. Your cheeks dusted red in the dim light filtering through the window, framing the two of you in the obscene display for the rest of time. You pushed your head down on him again, this time taking him as far as you could. You felt his tip slide down your throat, and you took a long breath of air through your nose to stave off the urge to gag. You held him there for a moment, trying your best to keep yourself calm as you forced yourself to swallow back the salvia pooling in your mouth. Your throat constricted around him as you did so, and in response, he let out the most heavenly sound that had ever graced your ears.

You had never seen Jake in such a state, and although you felt like you should appreciate it, you couldn’t help but feel sad that it had taken you so long to get here. He was desperate, trying and failing to keep his composure, and he was needy. His hips jutted forward every time you bobbed your head down on him, even if he tried to hold himself back. He was lost in the pleasure, and he had never looked so fucking ethereal. Pathetic whines fell from his lips as he tried his hardest to keep quiet, and to be used by him was the most pleasant feeling you’d ever experienced.

You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, desperate for a release as you continued your torment. You were just as worked up, your underwear soaked through with the wetness pooling between your legs, and your were aching for him to touch you. If you weren’t so greedy, you would have let him finish there, just to show him how committed you were to his pleasure.

Just when you thought you were getting him close to the point of no return, his grip tightened in your hair and his body went rigid. Unsure of what was wrong, you tried to continue on as you were seconds before, but his hand holding your head in place made it hard to do so. Before your disappointment really began to sink in, he spoke quietly. So quietly that you almost did not hear him at all.

“Baby, stop.” He pleaded, looking down with wide eyes. Your eyes flickered up to his, questioning his sudden withdrawal as his cock rested on your tongue. “Someone’s coming.” He said, looking over his shoulder at the entrance of the kitchen. At that, a wave of panic filled your chest, hyper aware of the situation you had found yourselves in. He looked at your shirt on the floor, knowing that there wasn’t enough time for you to dress yourself before the two of you were caught. “Get under the table.” You pulled back, taking a long breath as his tip fell from your lips.

Although you felt a little ridiculous hiding in your own home, you figured it would be for the best. Avoiding the awkward situation would be in everyone’s best interest, especially considering the explicit nature of your current state. As you shuffled backwards, hiding yourself under the table, Jake stepped towards your shirt on the ground and kicked it towards you. Then, he rushed to push the chair in, concealing you a little better. He pulled his pants back up over his hips just as the footsteps neared the end of the hallway. Realizing the obvious predicament in his pants, he thought it best to sit back down in the chair at the head of the table, knowing there was no way he could hide it from anyone who walked in, even if the light was turned off.

He pushed the chair in as far as he could, his stomach resting against the edge of the table as he leaned back ever so slightly, ensuring that his lower half was carefully concealed underneath the table. You held your breath, listening carefully as the footsteps rounded the corner and slowed to a stop.

“Oh, hey, Jake.” Roman. The sleep laced in the familiar tone was blatant, and the surprise of seeing Jake sitting, wide awake in the earliest hours of the morning was also quite clear. “What are you still doing up?”

“Oh, you know.” He let out a nervous chuckle, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. “Just waiting for Y/N to come down so I can talk to her.”

“Right,” he mumbled, taking a few steps towards the refrigerator. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.” Roman asked, opening the fridge to retrieve the water pitcher from inside. The yellow light illuminated the room ever so slightly, making it just a little more obvious that you were stuck under the table, nearly naked and trying your best to stay calm.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Guess I drank a little too much, and I’m trying to figure out how to make up for being an idiot, earlier.” Jake said, clearing his throat slightly as he attempted to sound as normal as possible.

“Yeah, that was a shitshow for sure.” Roman chuckled, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. He filled it up with water from the pitcher, thinking carefully about what to say next. “Why don’t you go up there and talk to her? Might be better if you do it sooner rather than later.”

“Already tried that.” Jake chuckled. “She’s as stubborn as I am.” You rolled your eyes at the snide comment, but continued to listen to the conversation between the two. It wasn’t really eavesdropping, considering Jake knew it would be impossible for you not to listen.

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” He hummed an agreement, still fighting sleep as he found himself amidst conversation. “You have to tell her, man. It’s just hurting you more the longer you keep it to yourself.”

“Y-yeah, I know.” Jake said, clearly nervous about what Roman would let slip under the impression the two were alone. “Just not as easy as it seems, I guess.”

“Christ, Jake, it’s not like nobody knows. We can see it. You haven’t been on a date in over a year. You spend every day here, man.” He said, pausing for a moment to sip at the water before he continued. You found yourself growing impatient, wondering why Jake wasn’t doing all he could to speed up the interaction. Then, you wondered if he was doing it on purpose to get on your nerves. At that thought, a devious little idea popped up in your mind. You were certain that you would never do something so risky had you not been drinking all day, nor would you have done it if you weren’t so crazed with desire for the man you never thought you would have. “Who knows? She might even feel the same way.” Roman offered, a smile clear in his tone.

Roman was an idiot for suggesting that your love for Jake was something to be questioned. In your entire time on earth, loving Jake was the only thing you’d ever known how to do, which is exactly why you were stuck under the table, hiding from Josh’s boyfriend as you waited for Jake to fuck you. Your love for him was the exact reason you had such convoluted thoughts about your next move, and the exact reason that you couldn’t find any shame as you slowly reached for the waistband of his sweatpants. Well, love, and the overwhelming desire to have him inside you again, in any way you could have him.

As your fingers hooked around the elastic holding the fabric to his hips, he jumped slightly in reaction to the unexpected touch. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, knowing that he knew exactly what you were thinking. Carefully, you pulled his pants away from him, freeing him from them once again. You felt him slouch a little lower in the chair, making it a bit easier for you, and also showing you that he was more than content with your actions.

“Yeah, maybe she does.” Jake breathed, swallowing hard as you flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock, running it slowly up his length. “Wouldn’t that be the dream.”

“I think you might be surprised.” Roman replied, leaning against the counter. “Why didn’t you kiss her, man? I mean, I know, but wouldn’t it have been the easiest way to tell her how you felt?”

“Uhm,” Jake started speaking again, but found it hard to focus on his words as your tongue swirled around his tip. The warm wetness of your mouth was fantastic the first time, but even more so the second. “I just didn’t want to do it like that, you know? She deserves better, and I didn’t want her to think that it was because I had to, rather than because I wanted to.” He answered, his voice higher than usual and his words breathy as they pushed past his lips.

“What are you going to say to her?”

‘God, he talks a lot.’ You thought to yourself, letting a trail of spit fall from your mouth onto his cock. ‘Just like his boyfriend.’ You raised your hand to his dick, using your palm to spread the wetness over him. You heard him take in a sharp breath, trying to keep it concealed as his hips raised in reaction to the touch. You continued to move your hand, stroking him slowly as you lowered your mouth to his tip once again. You could feel him throb in your mouth, pulsating against your tongue as you focused all of your attention on him. He was far more worked up that he was before, and It almost seemed as if the risky act was the cause of his current state.

“I—fuck,” he muttered the curse word under his breath as you bobbed your head down on him. “I don’t know, man. That I’m sorry, and that I love her and everything about her. Maybe that living with her was the happiest I’ve ever been, and that damn house feels like hell without her there to brighten it up. How I wanted to kiss her so bad, and everything she does amazes me, and I’ve only ever wanted her.” He rambled out the list of compliments, the praise indirect but clearly targeted towards you, rather than his conversation with Roman. You felt your heart skip a beat at the sound of his words, more specifically, at the proclamation of love.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good start.” Roman commended Jake for his choice of words. “You sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.” He commented on the strangeness of Jake’s stature and tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jake assured him, nodding his head as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Guess I’m just more upset about the whole thing than I thought.”

“S’okay, man. The two of you will work it out. You always do. I mean, she quit her job and moved to Nashville just to be with you again.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I fucked up, but I’ll fix it.” He said, his hands clenched into such tight fists that his knuckles were white and his fingernails drew blood on his palm. You took him in as far as you could, feeling him hit the back of your throat. Your eyes watered but you held back a gag, knowing it would do nothing to help your desire to stay hidden. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Roman hummed. “We’re always here for you. You know that.”

“I do, and I appreciate it.” Jake breathed, swallowing hard as he fought a groan.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake. Hopefully you get to talk to her.”

“Yeah, I hope so too. See you guys in the morning.” He said, the words coming out strangled as you suctioned your cheeks around him just a little more. With that, you heard footsteps echoing through the room, fading out the further he walked. After a few seconds, you couldn’t hear anything aside from Jake’s heavy breathing.

He waited a moment, just to ensure that Roman wouldn’t double back into the kitchen and discover the real reason behind his strangeness during their interaction. You continued on as if nothing changed at all, overly excited to please him and uncaring about his thoughts on the matter. When the coast was clear, Jake reached under the table, balling your hair in his fist as he pulled your head away from him. He fell from your lips with a popping sound, and you sucked in a sharp breath, barely realizing how badly you needed the air. He carefully slid the chair backwards, urging you to follow his lead and get out from under the table. When you did, your expression was smug and your eyes were blazing with a fire unfamiliar to him.

“What do you think you’re doing, trouble?” He snapped, his voice hushed so he didn’t catch any more unwanted attention. “You need me so bad you couldn’t even wait for it?” He asked, his tone dangerous and his face painted with a scowl, but you knew him better than to think he was actually angry with you. There was a glimmer of joy in his eyes, playful and light even as his expression directly contradicted his gaze. You gave him a sickly sweet smile, bringing your hand to your chin to wipe away any excess spit still lingering on your skin. “We’re you trying to get yourself caught?”

You weren’t, but you would be lying if you said the idea hadn’t crossed your mind. In the whirlwind of events, you felt like you left your former self upstairs in your bedroom, sleeping soundly under the covers. You were still riding the high of your confession, thrilled that not only did you finally find the courage to admit it, but it was reciprocated. His hands on you felt like heaven on earth, and you finally had the opportunity to live within the dirty fantasy you had created in your mind so long ago. Something about Jake made you want to live on the wild side of things for once, take risks and live without fear of making a mistake or having consequence. You had never felt more alive, and it was all because of him.

“You were?” He came to the conclusion himself, your silence being enough of an answer for him.

“No, sir.” You shook your head, trying to figure out the best way to explain yourself. You weren’t trying to get caught, but the thrill of knowing you could made it all the better.

“Tell me what it is then, sweetheart.” He said, beckoning you towards him. You crawled out from under the table, careful as you rose to your feet and stepped towards him.

“I didn’t want to get caught.” You clarified, smiling down at him as you stood before him.

“Don’t lie to me.” He grinned, holding his arm out for you, hoping you would take the hint and join him. You did as he wanted, carefully placing your legs on either side of him as you straddled him on the chair. His hands landed on your ass, positioning you as you lowered your weight onto him.

“Not lying, sir.” You squeaked the words out, feeling his length press against your clothed core as he used his strength to pull you down on him. As he pressed into you, the slight friction gave you a sense of relief when he brushed against your clit.

“S’okay, trouble. I always knew you were a little whore.” He muttered. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself moving your hips against him, desperate for a bit more than he was giving you at the moment. “Look at you, so desperate to be fucked you don’t care who’s watching.” He growled, his lips close to your ear as you anchored your hand on his shoulder to keep yourself steady. “I can feel how fucking wet you are. Can’t believe all of this was waiting for me the whole time.”

“Are you going to do something about it, or just tell me how bad you want to?” You asked, the burning in the pit of your stomach becoming nearly unbearable.

“Watch your fucking mouth.” He snapped, but his hand began to move from your hip, tickling the skin of your back as his fingers trailed upwards. His touch was full of love, assuring you that every word that left his lips was part of an act. Then, the hand that still remained on your hip shifted, and his fingers hooked through the side of your panties. With one sharp tug, the fabric unravelled at the seam.

If you were any less turned on, you might have been angry with him for destroying them, but you wanted him so bad that you did not have a care in the world about it. His other hand did the same to the other side, clearly seeing your enjoyment just from the look on your face. Without any further instructions, you lifted your hips, allowing him to discard the material on the floor with ease. You took it upon yourself to reach between the two of you, grabbing him in your hand and guiding the tip of his cock through the pooling arousal.

“What is it, sweetheart? Do you like the thrill, or are you just desperate to get fucked?” He asked, his voice low. With his mouth by your ear, you heard him loud and clear, and the gravelly sound of his words only made the desire grow stronger. “Be honest with me, baby. I want to know what’s got you so worked up.” He moved your hand away, taking control of the situation as you hovered over him. He guided himself through your folds, slowing his movement as his tip brushed over your clit.

“Both.” You whimpered, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his.

“See, Angel? That wasn’t so hard. You have to tell me what you want to get what you want.” He whispered, his lips upturned into a smile. “You like the thrill so much, so I’ll give it to you, but you have to be good for me, okay? Don’t want to actually get caught, because I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.” You felt yourself clench around nothing, the sound of his words prompting a full physical reaction from you. It was a special feeling knowing that he felt some kind of possessive nature when it came to you, that you were his and only he could see you in such a state. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded against him, feeling him line himself up with your entrance.

“That’s my girl.” He smiled. He reached up, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear in a moment of sweetness. Then, as quickly as it came, the moment passed. He clamped his hand around your mouth, the action rough and unexpected. You didn’t have any time to register it, because at the same time, he used a hand on your hip to pull you down on him.

The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming almost immediately, and you found yourself grateful for his palm tightly wrapped around your lips, ensuring that not a single sound could escape you. His size was something you were not used to, but it didn’t take long to adjust to the feeling. He was easy on you for a moment, realizing that maybe he was a little to rough for your liking, but when your desperate eyes met his, telling him all he needed to know, his head fell back on his shoulders and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to keep himself quiet.

You took the initiative, beginning a slow roll of your hips against him. You watched as his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed back every sound you were desperate to hear. He felt even better than you imagined he would, filling you up better than anyone else ever could. The position allowed for him to fill you completely, his tip brushing against the sweet spot inside of you with every move you made. It was addicting, and you felt greedy even as you had him so completely, because it still wasn’t enough.

As you rocked your hips against him, he placed his hand on your ass, pushing you further down on him as you moved forward. His hand on your mouth did well at silencing you, but you still found yourself letting muffled moans fill the air.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart.” He growled, taking a long breath to calm himself down. “So fuckin’ tight.” He muttered under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he focused on the feeling of being inside of you. You sped your movements, using his words as motivation to work harder. He let out a low groan, trying to keep it quiet so he did not disturb anyone in the other room. He surpressed it relatively well, until it trailed off into a whine. The sound was beautiful, making your walls clench around him, pulling him even further.

The two of you were a mess, completely infatuated and only able to think of the undying need you had for each other. The thought of stopping what you had started seemed equal to torture, and he wasn’t sure he could stop himself even if someone were to catch the two of you in the act.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” He asked, the sound of his voice settling deep in your spine and engulfing your stomach into flames. “Wanted it so bad you couldn’t even let me take you upstairs?” He continued, doing the best he could to move his hips in time with yours, making the sensation all the more powerful. You nodded against his hold, almost sad that you couldn’t tell him how good he was making you feel, sad that he couldn’t hear how desperate you were for him to keep fucking you.

His grip was tight on you, his fingers painfully sharp against your skin as he held your ass in his hand. You knew there would be bruises on you by the time the morning came, and the thought only seemed to push you closer to the edge. You wanted to remember, to be reminded of every dirty detail the night held every single time you looked in the mirror. To you, there was nothing better in the world to think about. After fantasizing about finding yourself in the position with him for so long, there was nothing more euphoric than finally having him in such a way.

“Tell me how fucking good it feels.” He hissed, slackening his grip on your mouth. “Want to hear all about it, trouble.” You let out a long breath, trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible as you leaned forward towards him. You settled your mouth over his ear, keeping your voice low as you told him the things he so desperately wanted to hear.

“God, you feel so good, sir.” You whined, your lips grazing against his earlobe as you spoke. “Nobody else could ever make me feel this way.”

“That’s right, baby.” He crooned, happy that you’d drawn that conclusion all on your own. “You were always mine, weren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, yes.” You gasped, feeling his hand guide your hips down on him particularly hard.

“All those other boys didn’t mean anything, hmm? ‘Cause you were always going to end up in my arms, right?” He continued his tyrant as you felt one of his hands creep up to the back of your neck. His fingers clamped down on your neck, closer to the base of your skull, almost as if he was holding on in fear you would pull away. He needed to hear the words, he needed to know that he hadn’t created a fallacy in his head and gotten the situation misconstrued. He needed to know that he was to you what you were to him.

“I only ever wanted you, Jake.” You confessed, knowing that no matter how hard you denied it, it was the truth. Heartbreaks did not hurt you the way they were described in movies. Dating never interested you as a teen preparing to leave for college, nor as a young adult who had spent the majority of her life single. You didn’t fawn over cute boys or go out to the bar in search of company, because you didn’t care about anyone the way you cared about Jake.

“Say it, trouble. Want to hear the words.” He muttered, holding your head close to his ear so he didn’t miss a single syllable of the phrase.

“I’m yours, Jake. All yours,” You whispered, feeling the pressure in your belly reach a new high. “I always have been, and I always will be.” You finished off the statement by letting your teeth graze over his earlobe. Gently, you pulled it between your teeth, holding him in the position as you allowed him to grasp the full intent of the sentiments.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, easing up on the pressure he was holding your head with as you placed a kiss just below his ear. You pulled away from him slightly, just enough so you could turn your head upwards towards his. When the position allowed for it, you pressed your lips to his, showing him that you meant every word of what you said.

The kiss itself was bordering pornographic, not even close to the sweetness of the ones that came before. It was a mess of tongues and teeth, neither of you caring about the impracticality of the action and only concerned about having each other in every way you could. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, applying slight pressure as he held your hips down on his. You let out a moan into his mouth, your hand on his shoulder slipping to the base of his neck as your fingers tangled in his hair. You stayed like that for a moment, neither of you keen on breaking the position until he pulled away first. Without moving his lips too far from your own, he began to speak, abundantly clear and concise about what he wanted of you.

“Listen to me, trouble.” He urged, his breath on your skin sending goosebumps rising across your entire body. “I want you to stand up, and grab your clothes off the floor, okay?” He asked, waiting for you to respond before explaining any further. You nodded, showing him you understood all that he was saying. “When you bend over, make sure you do it real slow, because I’ve been waiting to see you like that all fucking night.”

“Okay.” You smiled, waiting patiently for him to finish his instructions.

“Then, you’re going to go upstairs, and I’ll be right behind you, angel, waiting to keep fucking you. I’m done keeping you quiet. Don’t care if the whole fucking house hears you once we get up there.” He spoke with a slight gruffness to his voice that you had never quite heard from him before. Now that you had heard it, you never wanted him to speak to you any other way. “Understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed, taking one last look over his face as you bargained with the thought of parting from him. As you pulled away from him, he wrapped his arm around you, stopping you from moving any further.

“Wait.” He said, pulling you back into him. He crashed his lips back on to your own, savoring the sweetness for just a minute longer before he let you carry out the task he’d given you. “There. Go, before I change my mind again.” He ordered. You gave him a smile as you stood to your feet, finding the loss of him inside of you nearly devastating. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you.” He said, reaching forward and lightly smacking your ass as you turned around.

Your face turned red as you leaned down, making sure to give him a show as you collected your shirt from the ground. You heard him let out a shaky breath as he watched you; you could feel his eyes on you, never trailing off course as you straightened back up. You looked back over your shoulder, soaking in the feeling of seeing his expression, lustful and dazed as his eyes traveled from your ass to your face. To top it off, you gave him a wink before you threw your shirt over your head, covering yourself in case you ran into anyone on your way upstairs.

Before you even stepped towards the stairs, he was standing up and grabbing the torn remnants of your underwear off the floor. With two long strides, he was behind you again, adjusting himself in his pants as he pulled them back over his hips. Together, you went upstairs, sneaking past the sleeping boys in the living room and rushing down the hallway. When the door closed behind the two of you, you wasted no time throwing your shirt to the floor. You flopped onto the bed, on your back as you grinned up at him. You watched as he kicked his pants and boxers to the side before his attention landed on you again.

“You remember what I said, sweetheart?” He asked, approaching the end of the bed as he gazed down upon you. You settled yourself amongst the pillows, smiling up at him as you gave a nod of your head. “I want to hear all of it. Don’t care about anything other than that, actually.” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you at his words, finding it funnier than he meant to be.

“Whatever you want, sir:” You made sure to enunciate the word carefully, ensuring the impact would be made.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” He seemed to break from the facade slightly, amazed that you were actually in front of him, saying all the things he dreamed to hear from you. “How did I get so lucky?” He asked, falling to his knees on the bed before you. The question was rhetorical, not meant to be answered, but he felt the need to express his gratitude for the moment.

He moved towards you, letting his hands dust over your thighs as he settled himself between them. He took his time, letting his hands graze every available inch of you. Then, when he satisfied his need to touch you, he hooked his arms underneath your thighs, using a small amount of force to pull you towards him. You let out a gasp, not expecting the sudden movement. The scratch of the sheets against your legs sent a shiver down your spine as you slid down the mattress towards him, amplifying the sensation in the pit of your stomach that had only been growing more intense as time went on.

He pressed his lips to the inside of your thighs, soft and gentle as he worked his way upwards. As his mouth neared your core, your breathing became more shallow, finding yourself nearly driven to insanity just from the thought of his tongue on you.

“It’s a sin that I got to feel you before I got to taste you.” He spoke quietly, as if he was talking to himself more than he was talking to you. “Didn’t even properly appreciate all that I have.” He continued, his lips moving away from your leg and closer to your cunt. “Please don’t think I’m going to make it a habit, trouble.” Before you could respond, he closed the gap between the two of you. He flattened his tongue against you, savoring the taste of his hard work as he moved from your entrance to your clit.

“Oh, fuck.” You let out a shaky sigh, closing your eyes at the sensation. It had been so long since you had anyone touch you so intimately, and never had you found someone who could do it so well. He circled his tongue around your clit, agonizingly slow as he tried to cement the memory in his brain for eternity.

He let his tongue dip back down to your entrance, pushing it inside of you with little hesitation. The feeling was new, but it was fantastic. He curled it as he pumped it into you, keeping the movements steady and similar every time he did it. Your hands snaked down towards his hair, tangling the soft locks around your fingers as you silently urged him to continue.

His motions began to grow more comfortable as he became more familiar with you. He wanted to know the things you liked, what could make you take your clothes off without a second thought, and what could make you come undone within minutes. He wanted to know everything about you, all of the things you had kept secret before. Now, there were no more barriers or boundaries holding him back, and he wanted to make himself an expert on anything concerning you.

As his tongue pumped inside of you again, he let out a hum of pleasure. The vibration ran through you, seemingly rattling your bones and throwing you completely off course. It knocked the air straight from your lungs and caused your fingers to tighten in his hair. On your own accord, you threw your leg over his shoulder, twisting it around him slightly to pull him closer. He took the action as a plea for more, and when it came to you, he would give you anything you wanted. He picked up his pace, pulling you down a little closer to him. You couldn’t help but grind your hips against his mouth as he worked at you, swallowing down every last drop of arousal you had to offer him.

When the first moan slipped past your lips, he was almost dejected by the thought of not being there to drink it in as you let it go. That thought quickly passed as he realized how badly he wanted to hear it again. He withdrew his tongue, turning his attention to your clit again in hopes that it would help you loosen up, and more importantly, get loud. The whole reason he urged you to come upstairs in the first place was because of the beautiful sounds he knew you would make, and he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t determined to hear every last one of them.

You let out a whine, long and drawn out as he suctioned his lips around your clit. You could feel the sly smile form on his lips as he heard it, breaking the momentum only for a moment until he could focus again. This time, he let a moan out, unable to contain his own enjoyment of the moment. The knowledge that he was getting off over pleasing you was almost too much to take, and you felt yourself begin to grow delirious from the thought alone.

“Taste so sweet, angel, just like I thought you would.” He pulled his mouth away from you for just long enough to spew the praise. You let out a breathy moan, thrown into a whole new wave of pleasure at the sound of his words. You knew that you were close to the edge, with everything he’d done to you so far and what he was doing now, you were long past the point of holding yourself back.

“Jake, m’so close.” You gasped, feeling it become harder and harder to keep yourself quiet. A particularly vulgar moan filled the quiet air, and you noticed as it reached his ears, his hips grinded downward into the mattress. He was aching for relief again, worked up to the point of desperation like he was before you ever touched him at all.

Had the situation been anything close to normal, you might have been embarrassed over your shameless need for him, but you didn’t care in the slightest. Years of sexual tension had finally resulted into one, climactic end. You needed him like you needed water to survive. Now that you had a taste of what he had to offer, you would never be able to live without it. Every daydream you created in your mind didn’t even come close to the reality of the situation.

“Jake, baby, please don’t stop.” You pleaded, finding yourself gripping his hair so tightly that your knuckles began to ache. You were grinding your hips against his tongue, needing more than he could possibly give you as he did his best to bring you to an orgasm. “Oh, god.” You cried, your head falling back against the pillows as a wave of euphoria washed over you.

The orgasm was different than any you had before, and you knew it was because he was the one who gave it to you. Your body felt light, almost as if it would float away if he wasn’t there to hold you to earth. His tongue coaxed you through the process, his movements gentle and full of love. Your entire body was ablaze with pleasure, like every nerve ending was searing with their very own red hot flame. It felt so good that you grieved the end before it ever came, and it was so intense you prayed you would survive it.

When you relaxed against the mattress, he pulled away from you, quick and ready to move on. You barely caught your breath before he began to speak, sending your already busy mind swirling with even more nonsense.

“Get up, trouble.” He ordered, repeating himself for a second time before you processed what he was saying. You stared at him, finding a strange comfort in the sight of his face as you tried to bargain with the unfamiliar feelings coursing through your veins. “Get the fuck up,” he snapped, quickly losing any bit of sweetness he had left in him. “Don’t make me say it again.” He warned.

That time, his words actually struck the right spot in your brain, allowing you to comprehend the situation. You sat up, watching him for a moment as you awaited further instructions. He laid down on the mattress, his cock painfully hard as he reached down and stroked himself. The relief was not the same as what you could provide him, but it would suffice for the moment.

“Come here.” He ordered, holding his arm out to you. You did as he asked, scrambling to your knees and making a move to straddle him again. When your knees landed on either side of him, hovering over his cock, he grabbed your hips before you could move any further. You furrowed your eyebrows, still strung out on your climax as you tried to understand what he wanted from you. “My face, sweetheart.” He explained, his expression serious as he spoke the words. “Sit on my face.” He continued once he realized you still weren’t quite grasping his intent.

“Oh,” you mustered the strength to speak, only slightly embarrassed over your misunderstanding. You did as he asked, slowly shimmying your way up his body until your thighs were grazing his cheeks.

“That’s better, angel.” He softened his tone ever so slightly, worried he might have been too harsh with you. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of this?” He asked you as he admired the view from below. He didn’t give you time to answer before he did it for you. “Every fucking morning I’d wake up disappointed that I didn’t have you like this.” He settled comfortably between your legs as if it were natural, like it was home and he’d been suffering from a nasty bout of homesickness. “Don’t make me wait any longer for it, sweetheart. I don’t think I can take it.”

With that, you lowered your hips down so his mouth connected with your cunt once more. The new position made it so the same action felt entirely different. You were hovering just above his mouth, allowing him to lift his head to connect with your core. You were fearful of hurting him, but he was having none of it. His hands clamped down on your hips, pulling you down towards him so your body weight rested on his face. It made the position less awkward for you, and much more enjoyable.

His tongue started at your entrance, repeating the same motions as earlier. He curled his tongue inside of you, fucking you with it in the same way he would do with his hands or his cock. As he did so, you felt the tip of his nose brushing over your clit, adding the extra bit of stimulation needed to make the entire process otherworldly. Your legs were quivering from the pleasure coursing through you, and your brain felt like it was short-circuiting. The only thoughts in your mind were filthy, all pertaining to the man below you as he guided you to rock your hips against his tongue with his hands.

You bit down on your lip, still having some fear of disrupting your friends sleeping in the other room, but it didn’t take long for that worry to dissipate along with every other one you ever had. Your moans were desperate, pornographic, and exactly what he wanted to hear. They drove him to work harder, drawing inspiration from every sound you made so he knew where to improve on his next move. He was a man gone mad; completely and utterly lost in his own need for you. When he needed a breath of air, he moved his head up just enough so his nose wasn’t covered, and he settled his tongue over your clit.

He was working at you with intent. The first orgasm was a slow build, and he ensured that it was memorable. Now, he was desperate to drive you to that state again. He felt like he needed it to survive, to feel your thighs squeeze against his skull as profanities fell from your lips, that every time your hips grinded against him for that extra bit of friction, you were forcing a little more life into his lungs. In the moment, he felt like he only existed to please you, that the only reason for his existence was to make you happy and ensure that you were taken care of.

He was more in love with you than he ever thought possible, and he was determined to prove it to you. All of your self-doubt and second guessing had hurt him in the worst way possible. To know that he loved you so deeply and you thought he didn’t was painstakingly hard for him to digest, and the words you spoke in your moment of high emotion stuck with him. He knew he did wrong, that he hurt you even though he thought he was doing the opposite, and he never wanted to make you feel that way again. The only thing he knew how to do was love you, and he would be damned if you ever thought otherwise.

You were bordering your second orgasm, his unwavering attention on your already sensitive body was overwhelming in the best possible way. You’d grown much more relaxed as the minutes passed, and you were having a hard time keeping yourself upright as he continued his relentless pursuit for your pleasure. Your stomach was engulfed in flames, the knot tightening with every flick of his tongue, and he could tell that he was pushing you closer to the edge. Your thighs tightened around his head, drawing him in and locking him there so you did not lose your momentum.

Your breathing was ragged, heavy as it shook your shoulders and made your chest heave. Curses and utterances of praise fell from your lips, commending him from his hard work, and the moans that followed were the best compliment he could ever receive. He wanted it almost more than you did, and he made it clear that he wouldn’t stop until he had it.

“Jake,” you whimpered, your eyes squeezed shut and your eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. Sweat glistened on your forehead as you felt the familiar sensation begin to pulse under your skin. Your entire body was thrown back into pleasure and you were like an addict searching for a fix. You moved your hips against him in time with his tongue, both of you working together to achieve the common goal. Your abdomen was tense, sore from the tightness of your muscles, and your hips ached from the strength in which he was holding you to him.

“Fuck!” You groaned, the sensation becoming too intense to withstand. With one last flick of his tongue, you were sent spiraling all over again. Your legs tightened around his head, your hips locked in place as your hands began to tremble from the intensity of the feeling. Your lungs burned for a breath of air as your entire body froze in place, but his tongue didn’t slow, and he wasn’t going to back down until he was certain that he utilized every bit of his power to make sure you were satisfied.

Finally, the moment seemed to pass and your body went lax against him. You took in a sharp breath, filling your lungs with the breath they had been begging you to take. Your head was spinning and your eyes were heavy, tired from all of the night’s activities thus far. He used his hands on your hips to lift you from his face, catching his own breath as you took the time to come back to earth.

“Being so good for me, baby. Don’t give up on me now.” He pleaded, noticing your drooping eyelids and the exhaustion written all over your face. “We’re just getting to the good part.” He said, carefully shimmying his way upwards. You lifted yourself up, using your last bit of energy to help him as he settled his hips underneath yours.

Without another word, he guided you down so the tip of his cock met your cunt again, sliding through the wetness and landing on your clit. Your body’s natural reaction was to meet his movement, your hips going in search of something you weren’t sure you could handle. He was watching you, his pupils engulfing his irises as lust began to craze him all over again. He used one hand to line himself up with your entrance, and slowly, he lowered you onto him. The feeling of him filling you again was so good, but almost too much for you to handle in your fucked-out state. You lowered yourself down until he was filling you completely, the tip of his cock resting against your cervix as the two of you sat still for a moment, enjoying the closeness amongst all of the chaos.

“Just for a second, baby. Just wanted to feel you again, and then I promise I’ll do the rest of the work.” He said, inadvertently begging you to look at him, to catch his gaze and say something. Your silence was concerning him, although not completely. He knew he’d just put you through a whirlwind of emotion and excitement all at once, and he was well aware you just needed a moment to process it.

“God, you feel so good.” You muttered, raising one hand to his chest. You placed your palm flat against it, holding yourself upright in fear you might fall as you began to rock your hips against him again. You weren’t sure where the energy was coming from; you were exhausted, beyond any kind of tired you had ever felt before. You were ready to get under the blankets and fall asleep next to him, but your body was telling you otherwise. Your need for him was primal, extending far beyond any rational thought or need for rest. You couldn’t resist it, and you couldn’t stop it.

“You take it so fucking good, trouble.” He groaned, raising his hips off the bed as he held your body to his own. “Do you like being a whore for me? Letting me do whatever I want to you?”

“I do,” you whined, nodding as your eyes stayed closed. “I love it, baby.”

“Fucking right you do.” He muttered, letting his eyes rake over the pretty picture sat atop of him.

He stared at your face, drinking in the detail of your messy hair and your flushed cheeks. He noticed the swell of your lips, pink and perfect as they enticed him to lean in for another taste. His gaze traveled down to your chest, watching as your breasts bounced with every move of your hips. Then, they moved to your stomach, which was tense as the muscles supported your movements. Eventually, his eyes landed on the exact spot where your body met his. He watched closely as you raised yourself off of him, driven mad by the sight of him fucking into you as you lowered yourself back down.

Perfection wasn’t even a close enough word to describe how he thought of you, and he truly believed he was the luckiest man to ever live.

He let you set your own pace for a moment, hoping that the break would allow for you to recover enough for him to take over again. You kept a slow, steady pace, fuelling the fire in your belly even further every time you came down on him. Your whole body was sensitive, still tingling with the ghost of pleasure from your last orgasm. Every sensation was amplified by a million, every touch all the more beautiful and every emotion was felt so much stronger.

“Look so pretty on top of me, trouble.” He rasped, drunk off the feeling of loving you and cursing himself for not saying anything sooner. “Makes me want to keep you like this forever.”

“That doesn’t sound half bad,” you breathed, smiling down at him. You took a moment to admire him, his hair laying on the mattress below him, framing his perfect face. His cheeks were tinged red, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you continued to roll your hips against him. His lips were parted, shallow breaths escaping him as he let you do as you pleased with him. His biceps were flexed, the muscles visible as he held your hips, aiding your movements. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his breathing ragged as he tried to keep himself from reaching his own climax.

He was the prettiest boy you had ever laid eyes on, and the most precious thing you ever had the pleasure of touching.

You were working yourself up to another orgasm, the pace slow but impactful. He noticed the expression on your face change, your breathing speed as your movements became more frantic. You wanted to chalk it up to the sensitivity of your body, tired and pushed to its limit, but you knew it wasn’t true. The simple thought of being his forever was enough to send you over the edge; you wanted to love him, and for him to love you, openly and unapologetically instead of quietly and secretly. You wanted to be with him, to wake up next to him again and this time, start your day by telling him how much he meant to you, to show him how much he meant to you.

To know he felt the same was enough to drive you crazy, and that’s exactly what it was doing.

“You going to give me another one, baby?” He asked, removing one hand from your hip. As he awaited a response, he brought his middle finger to his mouth, maintaining eye contact with you as he pushed it past his lips. He collected some spit on the tip of his finger, retracting the digit from his mouth and reaching between your legs. He settled his attention in your clit, tracing circles around it as you continued to use him to get yourself off. “Come on, Angel. Let go.” He whispered, his tone sweet as he urged you to give in to the feeling.

“Oh, god.” You whimpered, your shoulder locking as you tried your best to hold yourself upright. Your eyes were shut, your entire body trembling as you prepared for the storm to wash over you.

“Look at me.” Jake growled, increasing the pressure of his finger on your clit. The harsh words sent a rush of pleasure through you, your walls tightening around him as you peeked at his face through your eyelashes. “That’s it. There’s my beautiful girl.” He breathed, watching as your head tilted back over your shoulders.

“Fuck,” you hissed, feeling the warmth begin to spread throughout your entire body. You could feel it from your toes to the very tips of your fingers, behind your eyes and deep in your chest. Your legs vibrated as you used all of your strength to keep moving your hips, and your arm threatened to give way under the pressure.

“What did I ever do to deserve you, trouble?” He asked, his words trailing off as his chest rattled with another deep groan. His breathing was ragged, his fingers barely able to keep up with the simple circle he was tracing into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

As your climax hit its peak, your arm slackened and your upper half fell forward towards him. He used the moment to his advantage, removing his hand from your hip and bringing it to the back of your neck. He pulled you all the way down, your chest pressed against his as he leaned towards you for a kiss. With his lips on yours and your hips still moving against his, you were certain there would never be a greater pleasure in your entire life. His lips silenced the moans falling from your own, and he held you close to him until he felt you begin to relax against him.

Once he knew the most powerful part of the moment had been spent, he removed his finger from your clit and wrapped his arm around you. In one swift motion, he broke from the kiss and used his strength to flip the two of you over. You landed with your back against the mattress and he settled between your legs, still inside of you and wasting no time as he began the final stretch of the night.

As he began to drill his hips into yours, relentless and unforgiving despite your already tired body, he took it upon himself to grab a pillow from beside him. When you noticed what he was intending to do, you lifted your head, shaky and delirious from the strength of his thrusts as he slipped it under your neck.

Once you were settled comfortably, he trailed one of his hands down your thigh, landing on your knee as he wrapped his fingers around your leg. With a little help from you, he guided your leg around him, using the anchorage point to pull your hips down further towards him. As he did so, he thrusted his own hips forward, the impact of his movements sending a yelp escaping from your lips. A sadistic smirk formed on his lips at the sound, realizing that this was the exact position he wanted to get the most out of the situation. He moved himself forward, leaning back on his knees as he guided your other leg around him.

The position change meant that his pace would slow, but it would significantly increase the strength in which he could fuck into you. You crossed your ankles behind his back, holding your legs in place as his hands went in search of your hips. With every thrust of his hips, he pulled you down on him. His cock brushed against your cervix, sending a rush of painful pleasure straight to the pit of your stomach. Now, there was no holding back; you were whining, moaning and crying his name as he utilized his new found freedom to torture you in the best way possible.

“Please, Jake, don’t stop.” You panted, barely squeezing the words out amidst the moans he was coaxing out of you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you really do take it well.” He commended you as you reached out for his arm, your throat raw as you begged for him to continue. “You want more?” He inquired, ensuring he was hearing you right as he studied the dazed look in your eye.

“Please, baby.” You nodded, looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. He let out a low chuckle, leaning his body back slightly and his head forward. Without a second thought, he centered his mouth with your cunt, not even thinking of pulling out of you as he let a trail of spit fall from his lips, rather forcefully at that.

You swallowed hard, your eyes widening as you processed the degrading act. If it were anyone but him, you might have recoiled from the crude behavior, but on him, it looked fucking good. As he continued to fuck you, he reached his fingers between your legs again, using his generously provided lubrication to continue his torment on your clit.

“What?” He snapped, looking down at your surprised eyes. “You said you liked being a whore for me. Don’t be so fucking surprised when I use you like one.” You felt the blood drain from your face at the sound of his vile words, but it didn’t deter the growing pressure in the pit of your stomach. It fueled it further, increasing it ten-fold with the one simple statement. You could not find the strength to verbally respond to his statement, instead feeling your lungs burn as another pitchy whine filled the air. His lips twitched upwards into a smirk, happy that his words had the effect he hoped they would.

He did not have to work very hard to get you to the brink of insanity, another orgasm an imminent threat as he continued his relentless pursuit for your pleasure. He watched you carefully, focused on the way your body moved when his hips connected with yours. He was carefully attentive to the expression on your face, hyper-aware of every shift in your features in case you experienced a single moment of discomfort.

He was filthy, his words vulgar and his movements obscene. The picture the two of you found yourselves in had long past pornographic, something that only existed in the very depths of your minds when you were trying to sleep at night, but not once did he make you feel unloved, or used in any way negative. Despite the act he put on, you could see the care behind his eyes, and you could feel it in every touch and every action.

“You think you can give me one more?” He asked, but his words were barely phrased as a question.

“I don’t know, baby.” You whimpered, already feeling yourself reach the limit. It was not a question of if you could, but rather if you could survive it. Your entire body felt like it would give out, like you would collapse from exhaustion if you continued on the way you were going. You felt the intensity of the climax before it even began, but you feared you might not be able to handle it when it came.

“Yeah, I wasn’t really asking, trouble.” He clarified, adding a little more pressure to his touch on your clit. “You can do it, sweetheart. Been so good for me all night, just a little longer.”

“Fuck,” you muttered, trying to pull yourself together for long enough to give him what he was asking for. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking long breaths as you bargained with the devil. The godless acts you engaged in that night made all of your prayers go unanswered, and you knew there was only one person who was listening, now, and you needed his strength to get through it.

You focused on the feeling of him inside you, how well he filled you, how perfect the two of you fit together. You thought of the pleasure with every withdrawal of his hips and the painful sensation every time he slammed himself into you. The two together made an otherworldly combination, but you feared that even that wasn’t enough to force you over the edge.

Getting irritated with your lack of understanding of his need to give you another orgasm, he slowed himself just enough to adjust his position. The hand still lingering on your hip loosened, and he leaned his upper body forward, just a little closer to you. As his fingers continued to trace your clit, he let his forearm rest over your lower abdomen, underneath your belly button. Then, he applied the slightest bit of pressure there, allowing you to get used to the sensation before taking it any further.

A desperate cry left your lips, the small sensation making the world of difference in the moment. As he leaned forward a little further, careful not to take it too far, the pleasure began to grow into something incomprehensible. He was doing so skillfully, applying pressure atop your bladder, which in turn, applied a whole new pressure to your g-spot as he fucked into you.

“That’s it, angel.” He growled, not caring that he was doing the brunt of the work in the moment, because he knew it would be worth it for him. “That’s my girl.” He continued, coaxing you to give in to the feeling one last time. Your walls fluttered around him, drawing him in further as the pleasure reached its peak.

“Jake,” you tried to warn him, but his name barely left your lips before you felt yourself slipping into the state of euphoria only he could give you. Your mind went blank, your eyes squeezed shut as your limbs locked and your legs trembled. You couldn’t breathe, the sensation so intense that it almost forced you to forget how to do so.

Seeing you in such a state again sent him over the edge, and he knew he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. As you descended into your orgasm, so did he. You grasped at his arm, holding him close to you as you cried his name. His hips stuttered, losing the momentum as he withdrew a sharp breath. He muttered a long slur of curses, mixed with small praise as he spilled his release into you, dragging out the feeling for as long as possible. By the time you came down, his orgasm was beginning to fade away, too.

Both of you were breathless, trying to settle the mess of racing thoughts in your minds. He eased up on the pressure he was applying above your hipbone, slowly so the loss did not affect you too badly. He removed his hand from your clit, moving it over your thigh as he placed his hand against the warm skin. Gently, sweetly, he rubbed his hand over your limb, the soft touching helping you come back to reality a little faster. He looked down at where your bodies met, enjoying the view of him buried inside of you as he withdrew his hips slightly. He took in a shaky breath as he gently pushed his hips forward again, fucking his release back into you.

A small sigh left your lips, the feeling of his slight movements amplified by a million after your final orgasm of the night. Eventually, he pulled himself out of you completely, keeping his hand on your leg as he did so. You tried to fight the sinking disappointment in your chest as you noticed the emptiness you felt without him inside you.

Neither of you spoke for a short time, wanting to let the energy of the moment exist in the air for a while before you moved on to anything else. He collapsed on the bed beside you, looking over at you before pulling you into his arms. You melted into the touch, exhausted and comforted by the familiar feeling of his arms around you. You laid your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your face as you fought sleep. It would be so easy, so peaceful to spend the night in the same position, not having to worry about anything else, but you knew a conversation was long overdue.

“I, uh…” he trailed off, taking in a deep breath as he thought about what he wanted to say. “We’re good at being friends, trouble, and we always have been, but I’d like to learn how to be good at being in love with you, too. So far, I’ve sucked at it.” He confessed, his voice quiet and his demeanour anxious.

“I haven’t been very good at it either, but I think I’d also like to learn.” You confessed, your stomach filled with warmth and swarming butterflies.

“Be my girlfriend, Y/N. It’s not much different than what we do now, but with a whole lot more fun.” You laughed, finding his way of asking objectively strange but perfectly fitting for him and your relationship with each other. “Don’t laugh at me. That doesn’t make me feel great.” He chuckled, clearly joking but still a bit nervous of rejection.

“Of course I will, Jacob.” You assured him, unable to believe he really thought you might say no.

“Okay, great.” He let out a breath of relief at the sound of your words. “And obviously not right away, or anything like that, but I think I’d like you to move back in with me. Whenever you’re ready, of course. I miss you when you’re not there. Doesn’t feel right without you.”

“What?” You asked, sitting up with an incredulous look on your face. He recoiled slightly, worried that he said something wrong, but you quickly continued your statement to ease his fears. “And get rid of the pool you worked so hard to build for me?”

“Fuck that pool, trouble.” He laughed, catching on to your joke as quickly as you spewed it. “Sell this place and come back to me, and I’ll build you a thousand fucking pools. I’ll give you whatever you want, s’long as I get to call you mine and wake up next to you again.”

“No need for a thousand pools, Jacob.” You grinned, finding his sentiment sweet but completely unnecessary. “No need for anything at all, because being yours is all I want to do.” With that, you leaned down and placed a kiss to his lips, feeling more at home than you had ever felt before.

Tags: @brookekiszkaa

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