#so goddamn it y’all are gonna see it!!!

[are-we-really-doing-this]

Will someone please tell them to stop flirting in public.

[build-a-bruce]

AO3 might need to implement a tutorial on how to use the fucking website bc why are yall posting the same fic twice+ in one week why are yall asking for fyp pages why are yall reviewing fics in the comments like you work for pitchfork like what is going on downxowisowksm 😭😭😭

[enterstellars]

been reaaaaaally struggling with the whole disabled thing as of late

[poyitjdr]

nothing like a guy you know breaking his hand, doing jack shit about it, and being a little shit in *just* the right way that it gets you to be a little shit back and you end up laughing together

and then once you leave you remember you’ve been medically trained for this exact kinda thing for over a decade and your brain suddenly supplies a cozy lil fantasy of you bandaging him up, suddenly forcing you to realize that *fuck* you’ve got your dumb little heart involved again, haven’t you

[gracieheartspedro]

For Cryin’ Out Loud

pairing: post-outbreak! joel miller x fem!reader

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 7.9k

description: living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.

warnings: pretty slow burn, kinda forced proximity, kinda angsty, unspecified age gap (don’t like it, don’t read it), joel gives you tons of nicknames (darlin’, kiddo, etc.), discussions of nightmares and possible mental illnesses, some fluff, reader isn’t really described, joel is kinda a gaslighter, he’s also a bit pervy, unprotected p in v (wrap it y’all), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, joel like worships you!!!!!, joel licks his fingers clean, giving genitalia pronouns, joel’s a big boy. think that’s it. lemme know what I missed!

author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this. the idea is pretty simple but I love domestic jackson!joel. I promise i’ll try to switch it up soon and write something that isn’t jackson!era lol. support your fav fics by reblogging and commenting!! thanks love ya <3

For some reason, you always find yourself standing at the threshold of the front door when you cannot sleep. 

The air was especially brisk tonight. You wrapped yourself in a gray chunky sweater you found in the lost and found in Jackson’s thrift store, hoping to regain some warmth. Your bed may have been comfortable, but it was the place where nightmares usually plagued you. 

It was too late to be awake, and you knew that if you were caught, you would hear it from Joel. He always reprimanded you. Every time he caught you up late, it was like your father woke up and found your hand in the cookie jar. 

The dynamic between you two had changed since arriving in Jackson, and you almost resented him for it. When it was just you, him, and Ellie, you were managing a family unit. Joel was always the protective father, you being the mom or the voice of reason, and Ellie being chaos. 

When Ellie and Joel’s relationship shifted, he took on a fatherly role for you. It bothered you. A lot. 

In a moment of contemplation, you hear footsteps coming down the steps behind you. 

He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and no shirt, his hairy tummy something you did not see often. 

“What are you doing awake?” He questions, his voice groggy with a twinge of annoyance. 

You do not feel like explaining yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without a justification. 

You huff, leaning your back against the door frame so you can get a full look at the broad man. “Can’t sleep. Thought staring into the darkness would help.”

He grunts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s that workin’ for you, sweetheart?”

You could not close your eyes without the haunting dreams that seemed lively and so real. Every night, you had the same recurring ones. You were being chased, hunted, or murdered. Or all of the above. You would wake in a cold sweat, not wanting to shut your eyelids ever again. 

“Hm,” You say, staring back outside for a brief moment, “‘Was better when you weren’t looking over my shoulder.”

He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

“You can and will. You’re no good when you’re tired.”

“If I close my eyes, Joel, I will just have the same goddamn nightmares I have every night. And I will end up doing what I’m doing now, which is trying to get some fresh air to forget them.”

“You’re not gonna forget ‘em with some fresh air. You just need to… get over them.”

The breeze picks up as soon as he says it, almost like the world knew the tension would have to be broken with some frigid air. You retort with, “And how do you get over yours?”

"I just accept them," he says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I don't have time to dwell on them. There's always more important things to worry about."

"I'm more tired in the morning when I just endure them." You explain, trying not to cry about it. But you are so sick of them. The same thing every night.

“I get it. One day they will subside, I’m sure of it. But for now, you gotta-”

You just want him to shut up. At the same time, your mind is trying to remember the last time you did not have a nightmare. The memory makes your stomach churn. “You remember that one time we were forced to share that sleeping bag? Back in Pittsburgh?”

“Yeah,” His tone was wary, “What about it?”

"That was the first night I didn't have it." You explain, your voice a bit shaking at the insinuation. You don’t want to face the fact that Joel, the man that you have known for going on 10 years, kept your nightmares at bay. The same man who continuously rejected you and told you that he was old enough to be your dad. The same man that told you no, I don’t like you like that. I never will. That Joel. 

“And? Why are you bringing this up now?”

"Because every night I go to my bed and I'm forced to face them alone. When you were there... they didn't even bother holding my mind hostage.”

He took another step closer, closing some of the distance between you two. He towers over you and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. Joel has always been a complicated part of your life. You consider him your sexual awakening, honestly, but he will never ever know that. Over the years, he’s only gotten more handsome. 

But now, he has a curious expression written all over his face.

"Are you saying you want to share a bed with me?" he asks, his voice gruff and low.

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to answer. You knew that was stepping over a boundary for Joel. He liked his space. He didn’t like you impeding on that space, especially. Your bedroom was the furthest away from his for a reason.

"I don't know." You manage to say.

Joel's gaze darkened, his expression was completely unreadable. You wish you could read his mind, but you should be grateful you can not. 

Because in Joel’s mind, he’s trying to formulate a way to convince you to stay away from him altogether. The wall he has built over the last decade was intentional. He did not want to hurt you any further. He already knew you had feelings for him, but he was an old man. He did not want to drag you into his mess, all the baggage he carried. He looked after you, he shared a home with you, and that’s it. Strictly platonic. 

He shifted on his feet a little, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You shook like a little leaf.

"You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble.

You nod, "I don't know if I want that."

You do want that. But you want more, too. You knew you would be playing with fire. You would just be disappointed. 

Joel’s temptations are buried deep but they still fester every now and again. Some days he would catch a glance at you getting dressed in the crack of your door and have to take a cold shower. As soon as he felt those emotions bubble in his chest, he would try to distract himself. Maybe he would take a longer patrol. Maybe he would go to the Tipsy Bison and try to find a woman to take home. That one never really worked. 

“Well, what do you want then? Because standin’ at the door and letting all the cold air in ain’t gonna work for me or you.”

You look down at your picked-over fingernails and contemplate your next sentence. You don't want to be heartbroken in the morning when you wake up and he's there sleeping peacefully next to you and you're not... his.

"I want to sleep with you."

Joel was not expecting such a blunt response from you, but he appreciated you not beating around the bush about it. He gestures for you to step out of the doorway so he can shut the door, which you do. 

He looked down at you, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the exhaustion and uncertainty. 

"You sure?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

You just nod as he locks the front door. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Joel couldn’t believe it either. Maybe it was the tiredness or the instincts he felt to protect you, but he was not mad at the idea of sharing his bed with you. 

You signal for him to go upstairs, “You lead the way.”

-

Joel’s room was always off-limits to you. So when you step into his small little world, you take it all in. 

The artwork around the room was mainly nature landscapes. He had a big dresser right at the room's entrance with picture frames of Sarah, Ellie, and other family members. You were even included in one photo—a picture of you and him on some horses from last year. 

A shirt littered one side of the bed, so you took that as it was probably his side. Unfortunately for you, it was the right side. You felt a pang of guilt realizing you would probably end up restlessly lying in Joel’s bed if you were stuck on the left. 

Before he can pull back the blanket for himself, you stop him. 

“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”

He completely halts in his motions, turning his head towards you with a blank expression. “My side? Why?”

You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing. 

“Because I have had this superstition since I was a kid that I could only sleep on the right side of the bed."

Joel wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He can tell you are at war in your head about the question, your expression practically anticipating his rejection. 

"Superstitions, huh?" he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips."You and your weird beliefs."

You watch as he crosses to the other side of the bed and lifts the blanket. Is he actually letting you have his side? Maybe he doesn’t hate you. 

“You could also call it a compulsion, but superstitions seem more fun and less like a mental illness.”

He laughs this time, his deep chuckle making you feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. You did not feel like a burden as much. You walk to the right side and pull back his navy blue sheets and blanket. The spot looks warm and inviting so when you crawl in next to Joel, you start to realize that you’re back in the same situation you were in years ago in that sleeping bag. He was so close and warm and you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and keep you comfortable.

But then another thing came to mind before you could imagine his arms around you. 

You usually sleep on your right side or back, but now you don't know what to do because you didn't know how Joel slept.

"Do you sleep on your side or back?"

Joel studies you as you fidget beside him, your uncertainty causing him to smirk slightly. It was almost endearing, seeing you be completely out of control of your surroundings. He remembers back when you were traveling with him you had an obsessive need to straighten up everything before you fell asleep. You had to roll yourself up in your sleeping bag the same way every night. 

"Usually on my back," he said finally. "But I can sleep on my side, too."

You swallow, trying to picture yourself sleeping. For some reason you felt the urge to have control of the situation, dictating exactly how he has to sleep, too. "Can I... I'll sleep on my side if you can sleep on your back? Is that okay?"

Joel had to suppress a smirk at your request. You knew he was trying to hold back a snarky remark. Instead, he surprises you.

"Sure, you can sleep on your side," he agreed, shifting his body weight onto his back, "’n I'll sleep on my back. No big deal."

You turn to face him, tucking the pillow further under your head. You can tell his eyes are heavy from exhaustion. You know it's time to shut up, to go to sleep, but you feel the need to say something else to him. Sometimes your brain concocts questions and statements and you know you shouldn’t say them, but your mouth betrays you.  

"When was the last time you had a girl in your bed?"

Why the fuck would you ask that? You think to yourself. It fell out of your mouth like drool.

Joel's eyes widened at your blunt question, surprise and a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. You knew he was probably just expecting you to lay here next to him, maybe roll around a bit, then sleep. But instead, it’s an interrogation.

He took a deep breath, his mind rattling around as he tried to think of a response. He didn't want to admit what his genuine answer was to you, but he too could not help himself.

"Why do you want to know that?" he asks, his voice steely.

You hate that he even responded because now you needed to defend yourself.

"I uh, don't know. I don't know why it matters."

Joel chuckled softly, noting that you probably just had a case of word vomit. You always told him you were infamous for putting your foot in your mouth, especially in awkward situations.

"Curiosity got the better of you, huh?" he asks, rubbing his face with his hands. “You just can’t help yourself, sweetheart.”

He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to face you, his gaze studying your expression.

You smirk, grateful that he's letting it slide. When he turns onto his side and he's at eye level with you, your face drops a bit. He is ruining the vision in your head. He’s throwing a wrench in your plans.

"You're supposed to be on your back, sir."

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your comment. He knew he was supposed to be on his back, but the new angle allowed him to see you better in the faint moonlight.

"Don't worry," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'll turn back over in a minute. Just... enjoying the view for a bit."

You roll your eyes, lifting your hands from under the covers and lightly hitting his arm. You knew he was just fucking with you now. 

"Okay, for that, I want to know the answer to my stupid question."

Joel let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shook his head, amused by your persistence. You start to think about it and you have never really seen him bring anyone home. Maybe it had been a very long time and he was embarrassed. 

"Alright, alright," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Last time I had a girl in my bed..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to the covers, his mind racing to find the right words.

"Go on..."

Joel took another deep breath, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke.

"It's been a long time, kiddo," he admitted, his voice pierced with a bit of shame. "Almost ten years, if I'm being honest."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "No way... You've never just... got it on with someone in bed?"

Joel's face flushed with embarrassment at your blunt question, a mix of shock and slight irritation flashing across his eyes.

"Jesus, you really don't hold back, do ya?" he muttered. He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable in a different way. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn so personal, so quickly and he did not want to face you anymore. He was mortified. 

You mentally slap yourself in the face.

"I'm sorry, I am just tired and delusional. Uh, you don't have to answer that."

Joel could practically feel the humiliation radiating off you and he too felt the exact same way. You knew how to add to an already awkward situation.

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured you, his voice a bit gentler now. "I get it. You're tired, and your filter has taken a backseat."

"Yeah, exactly..."

He shifted on the bed, turning onto his back again, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, avoiding your curious stare.

You could not help but stare at his side profile. A prominent straight nose. His downturned lips are surrounded by some fine lines that show his age. He was a beautiful man now, but you can’t help but imagine him back in his 20s. He had to have been a hit with the ladies back then.

Joel could feel your gaze on him, studying his face. And while you were not scrutinizing him, he felt like a commodity in a museum or something.  He forced himself to keep his gaze on the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes.

"So… ten years and no sex?”

You could seriously, not help yourself.

"Correct.” He grumbles, still not meeting your stare.

"Damn, Joel." You mutter, adjusting a bit to sit up a little more on your pillow. "I seriously thought you were sleeping around the whole time we have been in Jackson.”

He finally turns your way, a bit of offense on his face. “Why would you think that?”

You shrug, not wanting to insult him. But that’s how you formulated your grudge towards him. It was easy to just chalk everything up to problems with random women you have seen around town. 

“You just give off the energy…”

“What?”

You huff, laying back on the pillow. “I don’t know, Joel! I feel like when I’m around you all the ladies think you’re handsome. They stare.”

“They are staring because you’re always following me around and we aren’t married or… together. They think we are odd.” 

You had never heard such things around Jackson, but it does sort of make sense. Everyone was probably just confused because you two lived together but were not a couple. You can admit it is bizarre, but it just did not feel like an option any other way, in your mind. So Tommy gave you two a bigger house and you set up separate rooms. 

But in actuality, Joel secretly told Tommy that he did not want you too far from him. So when Tommy couldn’t give you any other houses nearby, Joel just told him that you two would be roommates.

“Well fuck ‘em.” You mutter, trying not to sound too offended by the thought of people gossiping about you two.

Joel just nods. You settle by tucking your arm under your pillow. You yawn, the exhaustion now taking over your body. You watch Joel grab a pair of reading glasses from the side table and a book. You decide not to bother him, especially because he probably wanted to just read himself to sleep instead of being interrogated by you any further.

You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep. The deeper you get, Joel notices how your breathing pattern changes. When he’s finally ready to get some shut-eye as well, he watches as your body crawls closer to him. Your arm swings over his stomach and rests on his forearm. He is so shocked he does not move a muscle. 

You adjust some more, not knowing what you are doing. Your leg creeps up and tucks right between his. You snuggle your face right into his chest. The only movement Joel decides to make is slinging his arm over your shoulders to pull you in tighter. 

It’s the first time in years that you two slept soundly, with no interruptions. No nightmares, no sudden intrusions, nothing. Silence and snores fill the room and that’s it.

-

When you wake up, it’s slow and gradual. Your brain hardly computes that you’re laying on top of Joel’s shirtless frame, until your hand runs across his warm tummy. 

You crook your neck up, looking at the handsome man you are spreading across. 

His lips are slightly ajar, letting out hardly-there snores. They are so pretty and pink and you cannot help but touch them with feather-like fingertips. You would feel so guilty waking him up-

His eyes slowly open taking notice of your actions even though you tried not to stir him. Your eyes fly open in shock, but he does not seem very annoyed. He smiles. 

“Mornin’ darlin’,” He says in a deep sleep-laced voice. You smile back at him, loving that he decided to call you the nickname you always got giddy over. You press your fingers into his chest before replying.

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

His hand comes up from your shoulders and tucks some hair behind your ear as he stares down at you, “That’s good kiddo. I’m glad you slept well.”

The intimacy is almost too much. The way this is how it would be if you woke up to Joel every morning. It sends your brain into overdrive and you force yourself to ruin it a bit.

“Woulda slept even better if you didn’t talk so much in your sleep.”

Joel froze for a moment, his cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment. He sits up a bit more, adjusting to the brighter lighting in his room. He knew he had a problem with talking in his sleep. Ellie used to talk about it all the time. He dreaded hearing what he was saying while curled up next to you.

"Uh... what did I say?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"Something about it felt so good to be pressed up against someone, I don't know..." 

You could not help yourself and started to laugh. You knew you were going to get a rise out of him. 

Joel's face flushed an even deeper shade of pink as you started to laugh, clearly amused by your joke. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an excuse. He was just dreaming, it was not about you. 

"W-what?" he spluttered out instead of making an excuse. "I didn't... I didn't say anything like that."

You have a shit-eating grin on your face and you press your hands on his chest to prop yourself up. You enjoyed watching him squirm.

Joel's eyes flickered down to your hands on his chest. He sickly thought they felt so right placed there. He imagined what you would look like fully mounting him. 

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but you could see through his stone-cold exterior.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he grumbled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Fully fuckin' with you." You giggle, hoping he is not really that mad at you. 

“You’re a brat.”

You move your foot slightly, running it up his leg. It sends shockwaves up his body, having you so close and moving around so seamlessly. 

"No, you said something about how beautiful, alluring, and incredible I am. Said I was the girl of your dreams…"

"Yeah, right," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"So, you don't believe me?"

"No, I don't believe you," he says, his voice stern but playful. "I think you're a dirty little liar, trying to play me for a fool."

"A dirty little liar, huh? Well, it's good to know that you don't think I'm beautiful, alluring, and incredible." You giggle at his acknowledgment, knowing he caught you red-handed.

"Oh, I never said that," he smirked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You are all of those things, darlin’. But you're also a dirty little liar who likes to play games."

"So you think I'm beautiful?" You crack, the biggest smile painted on your face. You don’t even care that he’s calling you a liar because it does not matter. Joel thinks you are beautiful. 

“‘Course I do.”

You push yourself up onto your butt, sitting crisscross next to him. He secretly wishes you were still curled up on top of him. 

“You always this nice in the morning?” You ponder, your fingertips starting to toy with the hair on his stomach. He tries not to pay mind to it, letting you have full access to touch him. 

But it’s driving him insane. The way you look freshly woken up, completely enamored with the idea of him calling you beautiful. You have some puffiness under your eyes and your lips are more swollen than usual.

“I am always nice to you.”

You let out a scoff, “No, you’re not.”

He notices the shift in your tone and starts to get defensive, “Now you’re just lyin’.” 

Joel always loved to gaslight you in these situations. You knew better than to let him get away with it, especially now. “No there was that one time you told me you did not like me and that you would never like me. How you are old enough to be my dad-”

“Because I am!”

And there’s the wall. The only constant in you two’s relationship. He was so good at throwing it up when feelings were being expressed. When vulnerability was presented, Joel could not help but reject it. 

“And the world’s fuckin’ ended, Joel! Big deal!” You almost yell, moving your hands from him. 

Why does he already miss your hands?

He huffs, crossing his arms over his soft chest. “We have had this conversation for the last 10 years.’M not sure why we keep rehashing it.”

“And every time you turn me down it’s another fuckin’ stab in the heart.”

“You know why we can’t,” He practically growls. You can not stand to even look at him anymore with your bitterness and irritation taking over. 

“Whatever, Joel.” 

As soon as you say it, you’re already leaving his room and heading to your own. When you slam the door, you hope you have made your point. You want to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but instead you just furiously stomp around the room and grab your clothes. You had patrol at noon, so you needed to get to the mess hall before breakfast was over. You try not to cry as you strip down and get dressed.

Joel sits in bed, reeling. He hates that it has become a conversation every six months. He hated that rejecting you always sent you into a spiral of hating him for extended periods. It’s not that he did not want you, it was simply just not in the cards. He was too old to be in love. He was too old to play house with you. He just could not submit to the idea of leading you on, especially because you had so much more life to live. 

He finally works up the courage to get out of bed and put on some clothes. He opts for putting on his typical jeans and thick flannel. It was getting colder and he knew by the end of the winter, you would end up with half his flannels anyway, so he had to enjoy them while he had them. 

You storm downstairs, going to the back door for your boots when you spot him in the kitchen. 

“You got pat-”

“Yes.” You respond quickly, shoving your foot into your shoes. He stands behind you with a mug full of tea, watching your every move. 

“Who are you-”

“Jesse.”

He was asking his usual questions, which you were not in the mood to answer. 

“Hey, can you-”

You snap your head back at him, giving him the glare you gave him as a warning usually. By now, he takes it as a hint and backs off. But not this time. 

“Can I what?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you fuckin’ not be a brat about this?”

You wish your glare came with knives. If that were the case, Joel Miller would be dead on his kitchen floor. 

You are so thrown off by the question that you just watch him get angrier when you do not respond. 

“Are you serious, right now?” You press, keeping your voice from cracking. 

He brings the mug up to his mouth, taking an obnoxious sip. When he pulls the mug away, you notice how steaming it is. “You always pull this shit-”

“No, you do! You do this shit to me every fuckin’ time, Joel. You sweet talk me, make me feel comfortable, have me lapping everything up in the palm of your hands, and then you snatch it away. Then have the audacity to get mad at me!”

You are yelling now and it is throwing him off. Joel knows better than to interrupt you like you do to him. You were the kind of person who would calm down if you felt heard. 

The way he knew you down to your core made this all so painful. Because if he was not so stubborn and true to his convictions, he would have fucked you the moment you touched his lips this morning. 

“I ain’t tryin’ to make this harder than-” “Too fuckin’ late.”

You think back to the moment last night when you knew you were going to hurt your own feelings by sleeping with him. You knew better, yet here you are, still blaming him for your stupidity.

He stands there, still holding his mug, staring you down like a wounded doe who got pierced with an arrow. He feels guilty like he misled you. Before he can say anything, you are lacing up your boots and leaving out the front door without another word. 

-

All day long, Joel wanders around the house trying to get rid of the pit in his stomach. Nothing works. A shower. Reading a book. Cutting wood. As soon as he tried to use laundry as a distraction, he reached into his hamper and found one of your t-shirts. He held it close and smelled it, trying to wrap his head around how he got here. 

You spend all day, silently fuming on horseback with Jesse. When he tries to get you to open up, you ice him out and tell him to focus on the trail in front of him. 

You get back by sundown, the sun setting making it a lot chiller than you expected. You decide to take the long way home, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. You were not ready to face Joel, let alone share a space with him. But unfortunately, during your patrol, you fell into some mud and needed a shower. The more time it spent on your clothes and body, the grosser you felt. 

You open the front door, announcing that you are home. It was a habit you and Joel developed after you both pulled guns on each other during late-night arrivals. 

You hear Joel mumble something from the living room, but you do not stop to listen and continue on your way upstairs to the bathroom. 

You strip down as soon as the door is closed, tossing your muddy clothing into a hamper in the corner. You would get them washed and hung as soon as you shower off. 

You hear Joel’s footsteps creaking around the upstairs hallway as you scrub your body with homemade soap and warm water. 

When you start to dry yourself off, you hear Joel grunting something in the hallway. You wrap yourself in a towel and peek your head out the door. He’s on his hands and knees wiping something off the hardwood. “What’s goin’ on?”

He looks up at you, your body only covered in a bleach-stained blue towel. It makes his head spin. He can’t even be mad that you tracked in mud. 

He swallows, gripping the cloth he’s using tighter. “You got mud everywhere.”

You step out, not even really thinking about the fact that you are not properly dressed in front of Joel. You were still mad at him, anyway. Who cares what he thinks?

“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”

He returns to wiping the wood, “It’s fine, I got it, kiddo.”

You accept his response and move on to your room, but the draft you leave behind drifts to Joel’s nostrils. Your soap smells like lavender and it always sends his mind racing when you are fresh from a shower. He clears his throat, trying to get through the emotions filling his chest. 

But it’s been like this all day. You’re all around him even when you’re not physically here. How can he get away from you? Why is he trying to run in the first place?

He’s on his knees in your hallway, cleaning up your mess, sniffing the air you leave behind because he’s fucking in love with you and he cannot help himself anymore. 

Joel starts to think about how peaceful he felt having you next to him last night and how he would love to feel that way every night. For once he’s not thinking about what everyone else would think. For once he’s thinking selfishly and caving into every desire he has ever pondered about you. How would you feel under him? How would your lips feel pressed against his pulse point? 

His body was on fire, thinking about you. 

You are fiddling with some clothes in your dresser after you flick on the overhead light. You do not hear him come into your room behind you. 

You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that when he clears his throat to announce he’s in your room, you scream. Loud. 

“For cryin’ out loud, woman!” 

You grip your towel tighter when you turn and see him standing at your mercy. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, gesturing to the fact that you are practically naked. He does not care, of course, and his ears are ringing from your piercing scream. He gathers himself as you shift back, trying to create some distance from him.

He is trying not to gawk at the fact that your grip on the towel against your chest is only pushing up your cleavage. He’s biting back everything. “Can we talk?”

“Talk about what? The fact you crept into my room when I was trying to change? Are we past boundaries now?” 

You are pissed, trying not to rattle off another million things to discuss with him. He’s only really talking about one thing. 

He scoffs at your last statement. “Boundaries were already out the window when you crawled into bed with me last night.”

Silence fills the room as you completely stop breathing. The anger you originally felt dissipates. 

“Joel-“

“I ain’t doin’ this back and forth anymore,” He starts shifting in his spot, unsure if he really should be doing this. “I can’t live how I've been livin’. Somethin’s gotta give.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. 

“You are the one who won’t give, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, he practically drags himself over to you. Completely destitute. You have never seen him look so desperate before. You can tell that he’s been at war with himself ever since you left this morning. His eyes never lied.

His hand creeps up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

But then you remember his words from this morning. You start feeling like this is just a moment of weakness for him and that he will regret it later. You had to stop it before it was too late. You did not want to deal with the consequences. 

“Joel, you said we can’t-”

“Fuck what I said,” He cuts you off, “Do you want this?”

You stare into those brown eyes, searching for a sign of hesitance. You cannot believe Joel is being this vulnerable with you. 

But, you do want him. God, you have wanted him so badly for so long. You have searched for him in every man you have ever been with since knowing him. 

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. He takes note of your parted lips, every word failing you at that moment.

“Darlin’-”

“Yes,” You finally manage. “Yes, I do want this.”

It’s all he needs. He closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his space. His lips crash onto yours, not wasting another breath of air waiting to indulge in his sickest fantasies. 

You are all Joel ever dreamed about. He knew that once he caved and physically gave in, his world would be shot and everything would revolve around you. For years it had been a teetering object on a cliff, one nudge would have him falling. He always managed. But now, he was falling head first. 

His lips move so perfectly with your own. Your hand released your towel and found the tufts of his curls at the base of his head. You did not care that the article pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare in front of Joel. You have wanted this all along. To be uncovered, to be stripped down to the rawest form. He broke the kiss briefly just to scan your naked body, his forehead pressed against your own. 

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Your heart stutters as his hand traces your stomach down to your hips, all the way down to your ass. He stops there, grabbing a handful. 

“I need you,” You choke out before pressing your lips to his over and over again. “Right now.”

He mumbles “jump” into your mouth and you do so, his hands working quickly to hike you up onto his waist. He carries you to your bed, wasting no time dropping you onto your back. 

He cannot get enough of your soft, swollen lips. Every time he pulls away slightly, he dives in again even more aggressively than the last time. 

You are so hypnotized by the way he feels on top of you. In the light, he seems so much broader than he was last night. He’s still fully clothed, to your dismay. You start to tug at his shirt, motioning him to remove the articles that are in your way. 

He throws off his shirt before he stands up at the edge of the bed and pushes down his jeans. 

“Joel… I-“

He just shuts you up with another passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to melt into your mouth. Your hands trail up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, holding him down so he is pressing against your nude body. 

“God, I have wanted this for so long,” He sputters, trying not to sound too desperate. “Been wanting this.”

That’s when his hand reaches down between your thighs and gathers the wetness your slit has to offer. His fingers dance across it, starting from the top all the way to your spongy entrance. 

“Please, Joel.”

He loves the lust-laced tone you speak with when you say his name. It almost makes him cum there and then. 

You watch as he makes his way down your body, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your hip. When he parts your legs, you feel quite exposed. The adrenaline of being so spread for him manifests into a moan. 

“You are divine, baby.”

The use of that adjective is so-not-Joel that it makes you giggle. He notes your reaction and decides to sink down into you. When his mouth gets close to your core, it’s no longer a laughing matter. 

He uses his fingers again, using them to spread open your pussy lips. He cannot keep his eyes away from how dripping you are. “This all for me?”

“Y-yes, Joel.”

“God, I was a fuckin’ fool for so long. Could’ve had her earlier and I never fuckin’ caved. Such an idiot.”

Him giving your cunt pronouns was enough to have you throwing your head back and shuttering. His touch was magnetic like he knew exactly what buttons to push as he rubbed his fingers and palm over your core. 

“Yeah, you’ve been missin’ out. Every night…” You swallow before looking down at the man that is enamored with your pussy, “E-every night I would lay in this bed, fuckin’ myself just thinkin’ about you.”

He growls at the statement, before teasingly kissing your clit. “Every night, hm, kiddo?”

“God, yes.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he leans forward more and dives in. His nose is pressed firmly against the top of your pussy, nudging forward every time his tongue enters your hole. When that motion became consistent, you began to note the rumblings in the pit of your stomach. A familiar build-up that you managed to get when you were playing with yourself. 

His fingers move in tandem with his lips and tongue. While his middle and pointer finger slide in and out of you, his lips wrap around your clit. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming. 

You do not know where to center yourself, so your hands grip the bed sheets you were completely soaking as Joel pulls the first orgasm out of you. 

“That’s it, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, hm?”

You hardly make a noise, the orgasm is so earth-shattering that you just writhe on the mattress. 

“Oh my god…” You groan, finally able to catch your breath. When Joel removes his fingers from you, you watch as he slowly brings them up to his lips.

When he inserts them in his mouth, you gawk at him, unsure how to react. He watches your expression and chuckles darkly.

“Mm, never seen a man enjoy the taste of ya?”

You shake your head. “Never expected to hear those words leave your mouth, either.”

“Wait ‘til you hear what else I got to say.”

He stands up beside the bed, grabs your hips, and brings them to the edge. He is tossing you around with ease, bringing your lower body flush with his. He yanks down his briefs, revealing himself to you. You instantly take notice of how well-endowed he is. You never thought you would ever be close to his cock, let alone have it lining up at your entrance. 

“Joel…“ You stop him with your small voice, but still welcoming him in with your legs opened wide, “I don’t know if it will fit.”

He grins, “It will, baby. Just relax for me, okay?”

You watch him slide his member along your center, the feeling so blissfully overstimulating. You whine a bit, raising your hips to his. 

But Joel continues his torture, enjoying the way you’re squirming under him. The way your eyebrows are knitted together, your eyes shut as you grind up into him. It’s the prettiest sight. 

“Ready?”

Your eyes fly open as you watch him ease his way into your core, the sound of squelching filling the room. You don’t think you have ever been this wet for someone. 

“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”

He smiles as he inches in, “Squeezin’ my cock so good, darlin’.”

When he’s fully sheathed inside, he tests the waters by drawing out slowly. You roll your hips in a circle, trying to feel out every inch of him. He fits, but you know once he starts to move faster, the stretch will become overwhelming. 

He’s trying to focus and not blow his load immediately. You look so beautiful below him, your tits slowly shifting back and forth every time he draws back and forth. He reaches out, wanting to feel the flesh between his fingers. God, he craved every inch of you, he realizes. 

You open your legs as far as you can, letting him hit you at a different angle. The movement allows him to slip in a bit more seamlessly, so when he speeds up his thrusts, you don’t feel like you will completely split in half. 

He brings your leg up to hips, and feeling your soft delicate skin against him makes him lose all sense. His hips snap faster the more you moan out for him. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, girl. I can’t believe I was missin’ out on this cunt,” He babbles, “Need this cunt every day from now on. Gonna have you all to myself every night.”

You are too fucked out of your mind to read into those implications.

“‘M all yours, Joel.”

He smiles, slowing down a bit. “Keep talkin’ like that and ‘ll finish a lot sooner than you.”

You sit up a bit, your eyes flickering over his entire body. He notices you checking out his nude frame, which makes him feel a bit more bold. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You love the way his tongue slips into your mouth so effortlessly. When he opens his mouth, his facial hair tickles your nose a bit which makes you smile. When his hips pick back up to a quicker pace, it sends you gasping into his mouth.

“Please, Joel,” You whine, that familiar build starts up but this time it’s like a freight train. Moving so quickly down every nerve ending in your body. “I’m gonna cum.”

“‘M with you, darlin’. Soak this dick. I’m right behind ya.”

His dirty talk causes the crash. Your body practically lifts off the mattress. You cry out so loud you are sure a neighbor could hear you. You try to gain your bearings, but you are panting like you just ran a mile. 

Joel fucks you through it, but the restriction your pussy is putting on his cock sends him over the edge. His hips stutter into yours, his seed emptying into your spent hole. He just keeps repeating your name as his thrusts slow down.

He has never had such a visceral orgasm in his life. His knees are weak and can hardly keep up his weight. He practically falls on top of you, which does not offend you at all. His warm sweaty body on top of you is almost reassuring. 

“You okay, kiddo?” He finally mutters as his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You just nod, bringing your hand up to his salt and pepper hair. You tug lightly, smiling to yourself. 

“I’m more than okay.”

He finally sits up, his cock spilling out of you as he adjusts his position. Your hole drips a mixture of cum onto your newly clean sheets, but you could care less. It’s just another thing to hand wash tonight.

Joel stumbles to the middle of the room, picking up your bath towel. He uses it to wipe himself up before coming over to you. Your legs are still slightly apart so he decides to clean you up a bit. He’s gentle, knowing that you are probably still sensitive.

Once he finishes up, he crawls next to you as you continue to recover. Your bones felt like jello so standing up to adjust yourself was not an option.

So instead of facing him, you stare up at your ceiling fan as his eyes lock onto every detail of your profile. It brings him back to one night you two shared under the stars a couple of years ago. It was his turn to keep watch so you curled up in your sleeping bag by the fire. He admired you from across the flames, the orange hues lit up every angle of your face. It was at that moment that Joel realized that he could not picture his life without you. You had weaseled your way into every facet of his life and he used to resent the impact you had on him. You were younger, more patient but still stubborn like him. You made him laugh, like genuinely laugh, for the first time since the infection. While you may have been a bit impulsive with your emotions, he envied the way you could say exactly what you were thinking. 

Joel did not want to love you, but it was impossible not to. 

You finally look over at him, noticing the softness in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” You pose, scrunching your nose. 

He gives you a toothless smile, his eyes crinkling a bit. “I just can’t wait to sleep next to you for the rest of my life.”

tags of people I love and who may wanna read (no pressure I just love u) (some of u did ask tho) : @ashleyfilm @hockeyhughes @pedrospookie @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @myownwholewildworld

[shawtuzi]

request: ‘Y/n showing her ass all on ig and ony fucks her shit up (and records it so he can show all her followers who really run shit🙂‍↔️)’

some more inspo vids: 1 & 2 & 3

ur mind is so powerful and that vid is *chef kiss* here you go nonnie hehe/// cw include: there’s actually a little bit of plot *gasp*, mentions of drinking, reader is a little tipsy throughout the story, protective!ony, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex, slight daddy kink, ony is a tease, dirty talk, praising, rough sex, creampie, rushed ending i’m sawry/// wc: 5.4k

“can you see my thong when i bend over?

ony’s eyes, that were previously fixated on the tv, flicked over to your form, pupils zooming in on the thin fabric of your thong that peeked out over your jeans. his full lips lifted into a smirk, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. “yeah i can see it, don’t do too much bendin’ over.”

“yeah, yeah, whateverrrrr. the fit looks cute though right?” you did a little twirl for him, the obnoxious sounds of your heels clicking against the hardwood floor echoing throughout the room. ony paused his game, his eyes drinking in every inch of your outfit.

his pointer and middle fingers curled, beckoning you over to where he was sitting on the couch. as soon as you were in reach he yanked you onto his lap, your knees on either side of his thick thighs. “where are y’all heading to again?” he asked, tatted fingers trailing along the bare spots on your back.

your hands ran along his toned chest, his thin wife beater making it easy for you to feel every muscle and ridge. he always liked the way your long acrylics felt against his skin, it was almost comforting, in a way.

“we’re just gonna get some drinks, and then maybe go roller skating. nothin’ too crazy baby,” you’d lean in and give him a big smooch, but your lip combo was looking extraaaa perfect tonight.

his big hands cupped your ass over your jeans, before slowly moving up the play with the visible strings of your thong. “gonna be good tonight right? not gonna make me come up there and put nobody on a t-shirt right?”

ony knew you were as faithful as they came, and trusted you with everything in him, but what he did not trust was those thirsty sluts at the roller rink—especially the notorious connie springer. if he had a dollar for every time he heard about connie sweeping some girl off her skates he’d be a goddamn millionaire.

“don’t trip baby, it’s just gonna be me and the girls. if anyone tries it with me you’ll be the first to know,” and with that you were standing up. you bent over to give ony five featherlight kisses, careful not to mess up your lip gloss.

“be safe, i love you mama.”

“i love you more papa ❤︎”

( one mango margarita and three shots of tequila later . . . )

ony clutched his poor phone in irritation as he watched you act a complete fool on your instagram story. it started smooth at first, just a couple boomerangs and videos of you and your friends enjoying your time at the bar, but then he peeped that as he clicked through your story you seemed to be getting more and more lit.

what really did it for him was seeing you hang halfway out your friends car, your hips moving rather seductively as you shook your ass to the trap song that was playing over the stereo.

‘y/n, get your ass back in here! i’m not tryna get pulled over!’ he could hear your friend, who was the designated driver, say in annoyance.

you were already so lit and it’s only been an hour . . . what was he gonna do with you?

“ooou this girl is gonna be the death of me,” ony sighed, swiping over to the phone app. he looked over his contacts before clicking on ‘sun and stars ★’ aka you. the line rung six times before going to voicemail, but did that stop him from calling once more. on the fourth ring the line finally picked up, the sound of loud music and jumbled voices already giving poor ony a headache.

“babe?” he heard your cheery voice on the other end. wow, he hadn’t even realized how much he missed you until he heard your voice, his heart clenching at your missing presence. “hi baby, everything all right? i saw your story n’ it looks like you’re having a good time.”

“i ammmm, oh my gosh babe we gotta come here together sometime. i think s’like couples night or sum, everybody’s skating together and bein’ all sexy it’s making me miss youuuu.”

ony chuckled at the slurring in your voice, his thumb running over the tattoo of your name on the side of his pointer finger. fuck, he missed you.

it was quieter on your end of the line now, the loud music now nothing but a distant hum in the background. you must’ve went off to the bathroom to hear him better. “i miss you more, mama. n’ you know i can’t skate, i’d bust my ass every time!” he almost wanted to pout when you busted into a fit of giggles. oh how he wished he could hear your laugh in person.

“it’s okay, papa. m’gonna teach you and then we’ll be the sexiest couple in here,” you had a slight purr in your voice, and as shameless as it was, it did make ony’s dick jump a little. before he could say anything else you spoke once more, “i should get goin’ before they start looking for me. i’ll text you when i’m coming home, love you baby.”

ony’s head fell against the plushness of the couch, his lips turning into a frown. “i love you more, be good.” you giggled once more, promising that you’d be on your best behavior before hanging up, leaving onyankopon by himself once again. might as well make a little something for you to eat when you got home.

while ony whipped up something special for you at home, you were skating your heart out, doing all sorts of tricks n’ moves while your friends were fighting for their lives trying to keep from falling.

“yo, you’re pretty good.”

you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a hand on your shoulder, your body shrinking away out of instinct. any man’s touch that wasn’t ony made you wanna gag. seriously, like, who did these men think they were putting their grimy hands on you???

the man must’ve thought you were falling, because his grip on your shoulder tightened, pulling you closer to him. you hummed and moved a little to the side, the pace of your legs never faltering. once there was a safe distance between you and the stranger you finally spoke.

“thanks. i used to skate a lot when i was a kid,” your tone was short and dismissive. why was he even talking to you with this loud ass music in the background???you finally looked at him to get a good look at his face, and i’m assuming y’all already know who it is. sigh. you could already feel your buzz fading away.

you couldn’t deny that connie was handsome, but he wasn’t ony. no one could ever compete with your ony. whether it be looks, strength, book smarts, street smarts—anything the average human could do, onyankopon could do it better. at least that’s how it worked in your mind.

connie offered you a sweet smile, “do i know you? you look real familiar.”

“you might. i’m with onyankopon, i know y’all run in the same circles or whatever.” as you and connie talked the flash of someone’s phone hit you both, startling you the tiniest bit. you ignored it, deciding to keep the conversation with connie going until the song ended, but before you could even bid him farewell you heard your name being called numerous times.

your friends were standing at the entrance/exit of the rink, their skates now replaced with heels. you glanced at connie, muttering out a quick ‘see ya around’ before using a nearby railing to get out of the rink.

“that felt like the longest five minutes of my life,” you sighed, sitting on the nearest bench. “why do you guys look like that?” no one said anything, instead your phone was placed in front of your face, and what you saw made you actually gag.

it was a video of everyone in the rink skating to some rnb song, and there you were, front and center with connie by your side, his signature smirk gracing his lips.

“fucking ew! why do they have to get me, of all people, on candid camera with him? disgusting,” your nose was scrunched in disgust as you undid the laces to your skates. “ugh, i know right. let’s go do something else, i heard there’s gonna be a slide show not too far from hereeee. we should go there instead, yeah?” your best friend said, wiggling her phone in front of your face.

“a slide show? i don’t know girl, ony would be pissed. you know he don’t want me around that shit.” you knew your boyfriend well, and anything that had to do with a bunch of charged up men and expensive cars sounded like a bad situation to him, especially if he wasn’t there with you.

“don’t trip it’ll only be for like ten minutes, i promise. unless you wanna be lame and get dropped off”, your friend teased, and that had you pouting. you wanted to be good and listen to your boyfriend, but you also didn’t want the night to end quite yet.

“i got a blunt we can smoke on the way thereee,” your friend added. now that peaked your interest.

“well . . .”

[ 8 missed calls from my love ❤︎ ]

[ 6 new messages from my love ❤︎ ]

my love ❤︎ : please tell me you’re not where i think you are.

my love ❤︎ : baby answer the phone

my love ❤︎ : answer now or i’m coming up there.

my love ❤︎ : i’m omw.

“this fuckin’ girl,” ony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. he knew you wanted to have a fun night with your friends, but this was an absolute no no for him. you not answering your phone, but still posting on your instagram story didn’t make things any better either.

he found the nearest parking spot he could and jumped out of the car, his feet moving before he could even lock the car. it seemed the slide show had turned into a party type of situation, groups of people and nice cars scattered throughout the street. he whipped out his phone, pulling up the find my app to pinpoint your exact location.

after ten minutes of searching and bland, one minute conversations with his friends, onyankopon finally found you. you were dancing to music playing from someone’s car, your behind backed up against your friends front. if he wasn’t so irritated with you, he would’ve stayed a few minutes longer in that spot to watch you dance some more.

you looked breathtaking, per usual. all the gold jewelry you were wearing had you looking like a walking goddess—his goddess.

ony took his time walking over to you. he could feel a smirk fighting its way onto his lips at the thought of your poor little face realizing you were somewhere you certainly shouldn’t be.

“y’all cute,” he called out in his most sarcastic tone. your body froze, panic flooding through your veins. fuck, has it been more than ten minutes?

you stood up straight, your bloodshot eyes connecting with ony’s chocolate ones. “h-hey baby! what’re you doin’ here?” your body was stiff as you walked over to him, careful not to trip over your heels. once he was in arms reach you fell into his chest, his musky, natural scent igniting a warmth in your lower half.

everything around you was muffled, all you could focus on was the steady beat of onyankopon’s heart. suddenly, he pulled away, muttering something about you hopping on his back. with little strength you jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist.

you turned to your friends, offering them a weak wave as ony carried you away, not saying a word. once you both made it to the car, he carefully set you inside, and adjusted your limbs so he was able to buckle you up.

the second he got in the car you turned to him, your lips pulled into a pout. “how drunk are you right now, babe?” he asked, taking your chin between his fingers to examine your face.

“i’m more high than drunk, but i’m fine, i don’t feel sick or nothin’,” your voice was quiet as you spoke, your hooded eyes looking anywhere but at him. “are you mad at me ony?” your eyes finally locked with his.

ony shook his head, “i am, but it’s okay we’ll get it sorted out at home. drink some of that water for me.” your eyes flicked to the water bottle that was dripping with condensation in the console. it looked heavenly to say the least.

the drive home was quiet besides the music playing quietly in the background, and you taking a few gulps of water every now and again. ony’s hand was glued to the thickness of your thigh the entire time, squeezing the jean covered flesh every couple of minutes.

he was silent when he parked the car in front of your apartment building, and he was silent on the way up to the apartment. he was quiet as church mouse when he helped you take off your heels, his lips pressing soft kisses your ankles when he took each heel off, and he was still silent when he helped you take off your top, leaving you in your bra and jeans.

ony knelt between your spread legs, his hands gripping onto your thighs for stability. “before i go ahead, just tell me one thing, did you have fun, baby?” his eyes softened as he waited for your response. you nodded, a small smile coming onto your lips.

“that’s good, i’m glad you had fun. now can you tell me why you were all the way in the city and not answering your phone?” his thick brow raised up, awaiting your response.

you nibbled on your bottom lip, the lip combo you were so proud of hours ago now smudged away. “we were sick of the roller rink, and jasmine heard about this slide show happening in the city sooo we went down there just to see what was going on. i tried saying no, i really did, baby, but then she bribed me with a blunt and full control of the aux so i caved.” your fingers began to fiddle with his own.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t answer i just a little too, um, immersed in my activities. and i’m sorry about the connie thing—”

“wait. what connie thing?”

your lips pulled into a straight line, your eyes squeezing shut in defeat. why, oh why did you have to bring that up?

“y/n, talk to me. use your words,” ony’s thumbs rubbed little circles into your thighs, silently telling you he’s not angry, and will not get angry at your response. he knew better than to think you tried anything with connie, he just wanted to know out of pure curiosity.

“well, since you asked—that lame came and talked to me. he be acting all nice n’ shit like everybody don’t know how much of a dog he really is.” ony couldn’t help but laugh at the scrunched up look on your face as you talked about it.

“and i guess the roller rink has an insta page or something, because next thing you know there’s a video of me and constance skating together. he followed me and liked everything on my story not even a half hour later—the man has zero shame! like, how’re you gonna waste my friends time, then come onto me like she’s not my friend and i don’t have a boyfriend?! granted, he only did say hi and complimented my skating but—”

ony could only smirk as you tipsily babbled about connie, and eventually moved on to a whole different topic. he didn’t interrupt you, instead he let you ramble on and looked at you with nothing but infatuation in his eyes.

suddenly your phone pinged, a notification from instagram popping up on your lock screen. “mmcht, speak of the devil,” you grabbed your phone, and opened the notification, showing ony exactly what you were talking about.

connie_springer replied to your story: i hope to see u again next time. we barley talked

ony read the message three times, his lips quirking into a playful smile. “‘barley’ . . . illiterate bitch.” it was silent for a few beats before you both burst into giggles.

now, you don’t exactly remember who initiated the kiss, but somehow ony managed to kiss you breathless, pinning you to the bed while his lips hungrily chased your own. his thumb pushed down on your chin, widening your lips just enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

“missed you baby,” he muttered against your lips. you tasted like spiked lemonade and strawberry gloss, an odd yet, salivating combo. you responded with a moan, your leg lifting up to wrap loosely around his waist.

“i wanna fuck.”

onyankopon grinned, his nose playfully nudging against yours. “all that liquor and weed went straight to your pussy hm?” his tone was teasing as he blindly reached between your bodies to undo the button of your jeans. “turn over, wanna take you from the back.” ony pecked your lips three times before helping you turn over, his strong hands moving towards your hips a second later to lift you to your knees.

the view before ony’s eyes was perfect.

you smiled when you saw a flash behind you—onyankopon loved taking him some pictures of his pretty girlfriend. you whipped your head around, your eyes flicking to ony’s concentrated one’s.

“you still mad at me baby?” you purred, playfully sticking your ass out more. a whine bubbled in your throat when you felt his bulge press right against your ass. ony kissed his teeth, “be quiet, y’know i wasn’t even mad in the first place. now look at the camera.”

you looked directly in the camera, you fluttered your lashes and gave him a tiny smirk before he took at least thirty pics of you in the same position. “beautiful . . .” you heard him mutter. you grinned, your cheeks heating up at the compliment.

“mm, you should post it that. connie follows you right? i think it’ll be funny.”

“what do you think i’m doin’, mama?” ony flashed you a smile, his fingers typing furiously at his phone before tossing it to the side. your phone dinged, a notification from instagram popping up. “d-did you tag me?” your breath hitched when ony tugged your jeans in one swift motion, the waistband now on the backs of your jeans.

ony knelt down, now eye level with your panty clad pussy. “i did, but you can look at that later,” was all he said before tugging your thong to the side, his warm tongue cupping your clit with quickness. you hummed in content, your face nuzzling into the comforter. ony traced slow, gentle circles around your clit, his tongue swiping down every couple of seconds to collect more of your essence on his tongue.

“f-fuck babe.” ony could hear your tiny voice whine, your hips now back and forth. he kissed your clit one last time before kissing his way up your pussy, his tongue slipping into your cunt with ease. his thumb replaced his tongue, rubbing tight, little circles on your clit.

onyankopon wasn’t shy to let you know that he liked giving you head. in just mere minutes he’d be moaning into your pussy and caressing your thighs delicately, mumbling little praises every now and again just to make sure you got the hint hehe.

your back arched when he rubbed the middle of his tongue, the softest part of it in your humble opinion, sloppily against your clit, dribbles of your essence now dripping off his chin and onto his chest. “yeah, y-yeah, keep doing that and i’ma cum,” your breath quickened, your eyes rolling back as the coil in your stomach got tighter n’ tighter.

“mmph, yeah? you gonna cum in my mouth baby? lemme hear you,” ony’s thumb pushed the skin above your clit up, exposing it even more to his skillful tongue. “y-yes on—y!” your kiss bitten lips dropped open, back arching impossibly deep when you felt his fingers pinch your clit.

“try that again, what’s my name? whose mouth are you gonna cum on?” as tipsy as you were, your cheeks still went hot at the mention of his ‘bedroom name’. truly you weren’t into calling men daddy at first, it put a sour taste in your mouth—but then ony came along. sure you called him ‘pa’ and ‘papa’ occasionally but this just felt . . . different. he didn’t push you into calling him anything during sex, only suggesting it, and you were sure you’d never even think to call him daddy . . . until one night, when he had you folded up, your spent pussy pulsing around his dick as you chanted his new name like a prayer.

“i-i’m, i’m gonna cum on your m-mouth *huff*, daddy.”

“atta girl,” ony hummed, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. his middle and ring fingers slipped into your clenching entrance, immediately bumping into that spot that had you squealing. he would’ve made you cum whether you called him daddy or not, he just liked to fuck with you when you got like this. so annoying.

your thighs began to shake, your orgasm approaching closer and closer. “hah! hah! f-fuck m’cumminggg.” ony pushed your weight forward, his face burrowing into your pussy as he slurped and sucked up your cum like it was the finest wine he’d even tasted.

he licked you through your orgasm until you were whining oh so cutely in overstimulation. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his tongue running over his lips just to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

“fix that arch,” ony grunted, tugging his sweats down in one swift motion, his achingly hard dick springing free. you mewled, fixing your position as you mentally prepared for the insane dicking you were about to receive.

he bent down, pressing one, two, three soft kisses across your waist. “you’re so pretty, look at me one more time,” you felt his warm hand squeeze your waist as he spoke, his words laced with love and adoration. you slowly craned your neck to look at him. your eye makeup was already becoming a little streaky, and your lips were all swollen—probably from biting them so hard.

“thank you baby, but with all due respect save the sappy shit for the aftercare, i need your dick now,” your tone was playful, but he could tell you really needed it by the way your hips started to shimmy. ony grinned, his hand reaching down to grip his leaking cock. he slapped it against your ass cheeks a few times before slipping himself between your folds, your wetness and warmth embracing him like the universes’ warmest hug.

he hissed, his teeth catching onto his bottom lip when he felt your hand press his cock impossibly close to your pussy. you could feel the dull throb of him against your clit, and it had you feeling dizzier than any liquor ever could.

“put it in, baby. i need it,” you whined into the comforter. your clit had a heartbeat in it so aggressive, it was borderline painful at this point. ony had had just about enough of his teasing too, because he fulfilled your wishes and filled you up with his dick the second you finished speaking. he was in to the hilt, your pussy gripping him like a vice as you tried to adjust to his size.

he pulled out less than halfway before slowly pushing back in. he did that over and over until he began a steady rhythm. “you’d think after all the times we done fucked you wouldn’t be this fuckin’ tight,” he grunted, slapping your right ass cheek with force.

ony noticed you becoming greedy for more, your hips seeming to have a mind of their own as you tried to match his slow strokes with quicker, sloppier movements. he fisted the flimsy of your thong, careful not to rip it. “slow. the fuck. down.” he growled in between strokes, making sure you felt each puncture of his dick against your cervix.

he tongued the inside of his cheek, thinking to himself for a moment before halting his movements. he puckered his lips, letting a glob of spit fall onto your untouched hole. he felt your body tense, a smirk coming onto his lips as he watched the spit trickle down and mix in with the creamy mess that was you.

before you could whine about his lack of thrusts, he started up a steady pace again, eventually getting faster and harder as the minutes ticked by. “you like that?” he grunted, using his free hand to push your head further into the mattress. you nodded as best as you could, “y-yes, daddy, i fu—huckin’ love ittt.”

you felt him in your stomach, your chest, your fucking head. you felt it everywhere—all your senses consumed by him.

in between his brutal strokes ony had a sudden need, he wanted a kiss. without stopping the rolls of his hips, he pushed your lower half down, his arm wrapping itself around your neck to prop your head up. your eyes rolled into the back of your skull, a line of drool slipping from your trembling lips and onto the comfort that was already soaked with your tears.

his pace switched from fast to slow, his hips snapping against your backside rather roughly with each thrust. “kiss me,” you heard him whisper into your ear, his hot tongue lolling out to lick over the shell of your ear.

“come on, baby. you can do it. jus’ turn your head a lil to the left and give your ony a kiss.” it took literally every ounce of strength you had to turn your head, but you succeeded and got rewarded with a very sloppy kiss. he sucked on your bottom lip, and then your tongue. his kisses tasted tart from previously devouring your pussy.

your feet thrashed against the bed, a moan getting caught in your throat as your second orgasm of the night hit you like a semi—unexpectedly mind you. ony pressed his pelvis harshly against your ass, his hips moving in slow circles to draw your orgasm as long as possible.

“can’t— *hiccup* c-can’t take anymore pa,” you sniffled, fat tears rolling your puffy cheeks. ony kissed you, long and slow, before pulling away. “yeah you can, stay like that,” he muttered, pushing himself up. his thighs were on either side of your hips, his dick still snuggly sheathed inside your aching cunt.

his hands squeezed at your ass cheeks, spreading them so he could get a view at the way your pussy gripped him. your mouth parted in a silent scream when he pushed his hips forward, his cock sliding an extra inch deeper. “too deep, ony! t-too deep,” you panted, your manicured hand reaching behind you to slap against his lower stomach.

“keep your hand there, s’not gonna stop me, baby. it never does,” he breathlessly chuckled, rolling his hips. something felt off. very, very off, like you were about to—

ony was slightly taken aback by your force as you pushed his hips back, his soaked cock slipping out as a flood of your cum hit the sheets. he could only watch in awe as your hand reached between your thighs, fingers sloppily rubbing circles around your clit. you didn’t really know were doing in that moment, but it just felt right. the giant coil in your tummy had finally unraveled, leaving you a gasping, sobbing mess as you rode out your second unexpected orgasm.

your body slumped against the mattress, your soaked thighs twitching violently. “what the fuck . . . i didn’t know you could do that,” ony muttered, his fingers swiping against the puddle formed on the sheets. you shrugged and shook your head. shit, you didn’t know you could do that either!

onyankopon scooted off the bed with shaky legs. he gently tugged your jeans off the rest of the way before turning you over. “just need you to hold on a little bit longer, mama. just need to make me cum, n’ then we’re done, okay? use your words so i know you’re good.” his fingers tapped at your jaw, signaling you to speak.

your lashes fluttered open, “m’good ony, wanna make you cum now.” onyankopon gave you a little smile, his eyes never once leaving yours as he set your ankles over his shoulders. he turned his head, giving both of your ankles a kiss. “my pretty baby,” he whispered, his hand reaching down to give his dick a few pumps.

he tapped the tip against your clit, smearing any leaking pre against your folds before slipping in with ease. you both moaned in unison, and funnily enough your noses both scrunched up the same way from being connected once more. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling the tiniest bit to let him know you’d like to be closer.

ony obliged, adjusting himself so he was able to lean down and be closer to you. the new angle had him hitting deeper, each thrust damn near knocking the air out of your poor lungs. “hah, love you, baby,” he panted, messily pressing his lips against yours. you cradled his face in your hands, your legs wrapping tightly around his slim waist. “love you more, daddy.”

ony groaned, his face nuzzling in your neck a second later to contain his whines. “inside? can i?” you heard him whine into your neck, his rhythm getting sloppier each time he pulled out. you nodded furiously, begging and pleading him like a lil slut to cum inside you that moment.

ony let out his first vocal moan of the night, his hand slapping beside your head to fist at the comforter. you felt a sudden warmth inside you and sighed contently, your legs tightening around his waist to keep him in place. he spent the next couple of minutes pathetically humping into your pussy, relishing in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

his grip on the sheets loosened, his body relaxing completely into yours. “ugh, baby, you’re so heavy,” you whined, pushing at his broad shoulders. ony only hummed, not moving an inch, and after multiple attempted to push him off you did the only thing you could do.

“hah! babe, d-don’t do that,” ony hissed, finally lifting his head up. you narrowed your eyes, clenching around his softened dick again, “then get the heck off me.” he sighed dramatically, pressing one last kiss to your neck before pushing himself up.

“all warm, mama?” ony hummed, wrapping your favorite fluffy towel around your bare body. you nodded, your mouth parting in a yawn. man were you ready to go the hell to bed.

after ony found his strength he got up and forced you into the shower with him, despite your whines and protest of being ‘too tired’. he held you for the first ten minutes, clutching onto your body as if you’d slip away while the hot water cascaded down your bodies. he then took his time washing your body, making sure no skin was left untouched before quickly doing himself.

now it was finally time for cuddles and, most importantly, time for bed.

he carried you to bed, of course, carefully laying you down on your side and tucking you in. when he got into bed you immediately latched to his side, your head finding its rightful place on his chest.

“shit, forgot i posted this,” ony chuckled showing you the story he had tagged you in an hour prior to your . . . activities. you examined the picture, a lazy smile making its way into your lips. “my ass looks so fat in this, good job babe.” you pat him on the chest a few times, your lips parting from yet another yawn.

“mm, you’re welcome, baby. not get some sleep, n’ make sure to dream about me,” he chuckled, giving your forehead three kisses.

[marshmallow-castle]

[psychoticwillgraham]

in case any of y’all have forgotten my ao3, it’s paxambabes and I’m making this post bc the AI Will au (first chapter) is dropping in the next few days and maybe the random part of the eldtrich Hannibal/immortal Will au shortly after.

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝑺𝒉𝒚 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒄𝒚 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

Pairing: No Goggles/Lensless!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, so good, so dirty, Mark’s losing his MIND

Tags: Praise kink, dom!reader (kinda, you try, bless your heart), sub!Mark (again, kinda, he’s encouraging tf out of you), Mark is literally the best hype man to ever exist, reader is shy as hell typically so she’s coming WAY out of her shell, porn with no plot (but will one develop? 🧐 we shall see)

Word Count: 1,312

Synopsis: You & Mark have been going steady for awhile. You’re the personal assistant to Cecil – handling all the jobs that are too low for Donald (think coffee runs, taking calls, etc.). You’re shy, reserved, and quiet. So the night you come crawling out of your shell and take the reigns in bed? Mark becomes your biggest fan, your personal hype man, and a man on the edge of religious experience.

a/n: this is so absurdly self-indulgent and i won’t even apologize. i’m not even gonna lie to y’all no goggles/lensless (i like lensless better but seems like the fandom’s collectively sided with no goggles *sigh*) is my new fav. he is just so uugghhhh – like, the perfect balance of psycho with room for being OBSESSED and just, yeah, he’s that man. this was also so cathartic to write after an otherwise traumatic day.

gonna focus on my inbox after this & rebuilding what was lost in the southern belle series 😭

The room was a mess. The bed creaked under the frantic rhythm you were setting, your hips moving with reckless abandon. You’d never felt more alive—this wasn’t like you; not fitting into the quiet, reserved version of yourself he’d come to know. This was something else.

And Mark was eating it up, his eyes burning with dark, primal excitement as he lay back with his hands behind his head, fully relaxed but completely obsessed with the sight of you.

“Yeah, babe, fuck yeah!” he shouted, his voice thick with lust, practically buzzing with excitement. “That’s it! That’s how you do it! You look so fucking good like this. Go harder, don’t hold back, babe, I wanna see you lose it.”

Mark wasn’t just into this. He was thriving, watching you like the goddamn Super Bowl — except the MVP was you, on top, riding him like you owned him.

“OH my god—yes, yes, that’s what I’m TALKING ABOUT!” he yelled, voice echoing off the walls, like you were hitting home runs instead of grinding down on him so hard his abs twitched. “Shy little thing, huh? Where?! I don’t see her anymore—this version? She’s my favorite.”

Your thighs shook, pace relentless even as your breath hitched, lips parted, face glowing with sweat and something far more dangerous — confidence. You didn’t look at him much, still half-embarrassed to meet his eyes even now.

But Mark couldn’t stop staring.

“You feel that?” he groaned, lifting his hips just enough to meet you halfway. “That’s you wrecking me. This is insane. I’m literally being blessed right now.”

You bit your lip, eyes fluttering shut, trying to stay focused as your rhythm wavered under the weight of his praise.

“Ohhh, don’t get quiet on me now, baby—nah, nah, nah—talk to me, moan for me, let me hear that pretty mouth, c’mon—GOD, you’re so fucking hot right now, are you kidding me?!”

He was so hyped it was almost absurd — panting, ranting, eyes wide with disbelief like he couldn’t believe this was real. His arms were still behind his head but twitching now, dying to grab you, help you, worship you. But no. He was loving being your seat, your toy, your audience.

“You’re slamming down like you’re mad at me—are you mad at me, babe? ‘Cause you’re gonna make me fucking cry,” he gasped out, then broke into manic laughter. “Shit! Wait—do it again! That grind? That little twist right at the end? HOLY—yes! YESSSS.”

You whimpered, breath catching as your pace faltered again—but he wasn’t about to let you stop.

“Oh no, don’t you dare stop now—look at me, c’mon—ride it out, ride it all the way down, you’ve got this, you’re doing so good, I swear to god I’m gonna blow just watching you.”

You finally looked down at him, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed, and Mark just about lost his damn mind.

“There she is! YESSS, there’s my girl, look at you—on top of the fucking world. Queen shit. Certified. I should be PAYING you right now.”

Your body stuttered—overstimulated, trembling—but you kept going. And he felt it.

His grin snapped into something wicked. His arms finally dropped to grab your hips, not guiding you—just feeling the way you moved, grounding himself while you used him.

“Fuck, fuck, yes, you’re gonna cum, I can feel it—so tight, so wet, baby you are milking me, are you trying to kill me? Is that what this is?” he babbled, delirious now. “Oh my god I love you. Wait—marry me. I’m serious. I’ll give you the moon.”

And when you finally shattered—silently, jaw slack, body stiffening as you came hard around him—Mark practically screamed.

“THAT’S IT! THAT’S MY GIRL! TAKE IT, BABY, FUCKING TAKE IT—”

His hands snapped to your hips, slamming you down as he buried himself deep, coming with a violent groan, his entire body locking under yours. His head fell back, chest rising like he couldn’t breathe, muscles twitching as he emptied into you.

He held you there—still, trembling, connected—until the last pulse faded.

You collapsed against him, shaking and spent, and he caught you immediately, wrapping you up tight, still grinning like a man who just won every lottery ever invented.

“...That was... beyond,” he muttered against your hair, catching his breath. “You just blew my entire fucking mind. I think I blacked out for a second.”

You made a tiny, worn-out noise.

He smiled wider.

—

It was a normal debrief. Supposed to be, anyway.

Cecil was droning on about some black ops mission Mark had technically been assigned to but never showed up for, and a few other heroes were milling around the room. You stayed close to the wall, sipping your coffee quietly, trying very hard to pretend you weren’t being stared at like a snack.

Mark was across the room. Or, more accurately, posing across the room. Back against the wall, arms folded, smirk in full effect, eyes locked on you like you were the only person there.

He hadn't stopped looking at you like that all day.

Your cheeks were already pink, but it got so much worse when he suddenly spoke—loudly.

“You know what’s crazy?”

Everyone turned.

Cecil’s eye twitched. “What now.”

Mark pushed off the wall, casually strolling into the middle of the conversation like he hadn’t just derailed the entire room.

“I just think it’s wild,” he said, grinning, “how someone can be all sweet and quiet in public, but the second they’re on top of you—” You choked on your coffee. Actually, physically choked. “—they go absolutely feral,” Mark finished proudly.

Your soul left your body.

Every head turned to you. Even the intern looked scandalized. Cecil let out the slowest, longest sigh you’d ever heard.

“Oh my god,” you whispered into your hand.

Mark kept going. “Like, I knew she had it in her. I knew. But the dedication? The power? The whole—” he mimed someone slamming down onto a seat, complete with sound effects, “—Boom boom pow, I mean—chef’s kiss. 10/10. Academy Award performance. And the STAMINA? Un-fucking-real. Her thighs were shaking like—”

“MARK!” you hissed, face flaming.

“What?” he said, half-laughing. “I’m complimenting you!”

You were about to melt into the floor.

And that’s when Rexleaned in from two chairs down, elbow propped on the table, face lit up like fireworks.

“Wait, hold up,” he said, pointing at you with his half-eaten protein bar. “You mean quiet girl over here? She was on top?”

Mark beamed. “Oh, on top, in charge, out of body—I was literally just lying there like ‘is this how I die?’ Would’ve been a good way to go out too.”

Rex whistled low. “Shiiiit. Okay. I see you.” He turned to you, eyes dragging way too slow. “Damn, quiet ones really are the freakiest, huh? I knew it.”

You felt your stomach drop. “Rex.”

He didn’t stop. “No no, this is important. For science. So like… did you do the thing where you—”

And then Mark moved.

Slow, calm, still smiling. But the air in the room dropped ten degrees as he crossed the space between them in half a heartbeat and leaned down to Rex’s ear with that same shit-eating grin still plastered on his face.

“If your eyes so much as blink in her direction again, I’ll pop your head like a grape,” he whispered casually.

Rex blinked.

“Like—pshhht. Just… juice,” Mark added with a cheerful hand gesture.

Then he clapped Rex on the shoulder, straightened up, and turned back toward you like nothing happened.

You were bright red, half-horrified and half trying very hard not to laugh. “Mark—”

He winked. “Still thinking about last night, baby.”

“Please stop talking forever.”

[wordsmeetwbb]

Relax

Word count: 2.4k

Content: smut (sub P, mommy!Azzi)

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: After saying I was gonna post this every night for approximately a week, it's finally done! Not edited, as per usual, so please let me know if you see any typos or anything. Anyway, Mommy Azzi is back, so please enjoy this before I get absolutely destroyed by finals soon!

________

Paige and Azzi are sprawled out on the couch in Azzi’s apartment, Paige draped across Azzi’s lap, the rest of the team scattered throughout the living room, paying varying amounts of attention to the NBA game playing on the TV.

Paige had been paying attention earlier, but then her eyes had drooped, her head had lolled to the side, and Azzi pulled her right down into her lap. Now Paige has a blissed out smile on her face as Azzi’s fingers scratch along her scalp gently. She hums when Azzi massages around her temples. KK side eyes them and makes a gagging noise.

“Can y’all be normal for one night? Please? The rest of us are tryna watch Lebron in peace here,” she complains.

“Shh,” Azzi hisses, fingers brushing hair off of Paige’s forehead. “Be quiet and let her relax.” Ice scoffs from where she’s leaned up against the base of the couch.

“If she wants to relax, she can go back to her own apartment. She doesn’t even live here.” Azzi glares at the younger girl.

“Okay, well I live here. I’ll kick you out,” she threatens in a hushed whisper. Ice rolls her eyes.

“Damn, maybe we should stop making fun of Paige for being a simp. You’re like a goddamn mother hen,” she retorts. Paige blinks her eyes open, squinting at Ice.

“Hey,” she rasps. Azzi’s hands flutter over her shoulders, smoothing over her hoodie. “Be nice to my girl,” Paige warns. Even in her extremely non-threatening state, curled into Azzi’s chest, the rest of the team knows that Paige is serious.

There’s a little bit of grumbling, mostly from KK, but eventually everyone focuses back on their quiet conversations or the game. Paige settles back into Azzi’s embrace, tugging the brunette’s arms around her, tucking her chin into the crease of Azzi’s elbow and humming in contentment. Azzi resumes her soothing motions through Paige’s hair.

The peace doesn’t last long though. The girls grow restless quickly, somebody yells when Lebron hits a three, and Paige mumbles in annoyance as she’s jostled awake again by the noise. Azzi whispers little “shh”s and “just relax baby”s but it doesn’t work. Paige groans and heaves herself into a sitting position. Azzi scowls at anyone making noise.

“Y’all suck,” Paige complains, lacing her fingers tightly with Azzi’s as she tugs them both up off the couch. Several of the girls turn around and look at them curiously.

“What’re you doing?” Jana asks. Paige raises an eyebrow, still looking so soft and sleepy that Azzi thinks it might be giving her cuteness aggression. She wants to bundle her up in a fuzzy blanket and hug her.

She can’t do that here, though, which seems to be exactly what Paige is trying to remedy.

“We’re leaving.”

“Uh, Azzi lives here,” Sarah points out. Paige shoots her an unimpressed look.

“Yeah, and?” Sarah shuts up.

Giggles and whispered teases float down the hallway as Paige tugs Azzi towards the door. The door clicks shut softly behind them, enveloping them in the silence of the hallway. As they pad down the bland, impressonal hallway, Paige slings and arm around Azzi’s waist, hand settling on her hip bone through her sweats. Azzi presses their hips together gently, only pulling apart when they reach the stairs.

As soon as they’re back in Paige’s apartment, the door to her bedroom shut and locked carefully, Paige collapses into Azzi, burying her face into the younger girl’s neck. Azzi loops her arms around Paige’s waist, hands slipping under the fabric of her hoodie to stroke the skin of her lower back slowly.

“You tired honey? Let’s go to bed,” Azzi coos. Paige tightens her hold on Azzi, keeping them rooting in place firmly. She presses a gentle kiss to the crook of her neck, where her face is still hidden. She mumbles something unintelligible into Azzi’s skin.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Azzi whispers. She feels Paige’s face heat against her neck.

“Want you first,” she whispers. Azzi’s mouth melts into a soft smile.

“Oh, you do, huh?” She teases. Paige blushes again.

“You don’t gotta make fun of me for it,” she complains, voice achingly soft. Azzi doesn’t even reply, just slips one of her hands behind Paige’s neck and brings her in for a gentle kiss.

It’s tender and sweet, just light presses of their lips until Paige gets impatient and swipes her tongue over Azzi’s lips, asking for her to open. She does, letting Paige lick into her mouth, tongues brushing together. Azzi lets out a quiet little sigh and pulls away. There’s only an inch or so separating them, and her breath washes over Paige’s mouth.

“What do you want, P?” She asks. Paige hold’s Azzi’s hip with one hand, pulling her towards the bed until they’re both falling onto the mattress.

Azzi lands on top, her arms bracketing Paige’s frame. Paige looks up at her with wide blue eyes, lips parted slightly. Azzi can’t help herself but to lean down and kiss her softly.

“What do you want?” She asks again. Paige’s eyes flicker over her face like somehow the curve of Azzi’s jaw or the flutter of her eyelashes will tell her what she wants.

“Can you just pick?” She asks. Azzi’s face softens.

“Of course, sweet girl. Just want me to take care of you, don’t you?” Paige nods, body relaxing a little further into the bed. Azzi’s fingers play with the hem of Paige’s shirt, tugging it up slightly, asking for permission to take it off. Paige lifts her arms obediently, helping the younger girl get the shirt off.

“Yours too,” Paige urges, already pulling Azzi’s shirt off. It only takes a moment before their pants follow, leaving both girls only in their underwear.

Somewhere in the mess of clothes, Azzi ends up settled against the headboard of the bed, Paige in her lap with her legs straddling Azzi’s. Azzi cups Paige’s cheek, brushing her thumb over the pale skin. Paige isn’t paying attention, though.

The older girl’s vision is locked in on Azzi’s tits, round and heavy and looking so enticing that Paige actually starts to salivate. She leans down, sliding down Azzi’s body so she can press her face into the warm flesh. Her mouth is open, tongue dragging messy and lazy lines as she shakes her head back and forth. Her eyes are closed, and Azzi tucks a piece of hair behind Paige’s ear to get it out of her way.

The soft touch seems to give Paige a sense of purpose. She focuses her attention on one of Azzi’s nipples, thumbing over it gently, her expression full of desire as the action makes it harden slightly. Then she leans back down and licks over her nipple slowly.

Azzi lets out a breath. She slides a hand into Paige’s hair, holding her in place gently. Paige flattens her tongue and repeats the action, making her way over Azzi’s tits, almost like she’s exploring.

When she sucks one nipple into her mouth and brings her hand up to squeeze at the other side roughly, a moan finally escapes Azzi. Paige feels the wet patch on her boxers grow bigger. She pulls off Azzi’s chest with a quiet pop, looking up at the younger girl with an expression that might have been innocent if her face wasn’t framed by Azzi’s breasts.

“Oh, my sweet girl, look at you,” Azzi coos. Paige flushes, cheeks turning a light pink that contrasts prettily with the blue of her eyes. She presses another kiss to Azzi’s nipple, dragging her tongue over skin as she pulls away again. Azzi runs her hand through Paige’s hair soothingly.

“I bet you’ve got yourself all worked up from this, don’t you?” Azzi’s voice is gentle when she asks, but it makes Paige whine. Her hips shift, looking for contact and finding none. Azzi pulls Paige’s face back to her own and kisses her.

It’s messy, tongues and spit and teeth scraping. Saliva stretches between their lips when Paige pulls away, panting. “Please mommy,” she whines. Azzi throbs between her legs. It always gets her especially hot when Paige gets needy and unfiltered like this, when that name slips from her lips.

She grips Paige’s jaw, maybe with a little too much force, but it gets the blonde’s eyes to focus on her face.

“Do you want my fingers or my tongue, baby?” Paige looks like she’s genuinely thinking about it, her brain working very hard to fight through the fog she’s feeling.

“Tongue,” she answers slowly. Azzi nods, already flipping their positions so Paige is laid on the mattress and she’s hovering above her.

Azzi spreads Paige’s legs carefully, eyes shooting right to the wet patch on her gray boxers. She licks her lips and traces over the fabric with a finger. Paige’s hips twitch and a needy little noise escapes her lips.

“What was that, pretty girl?” Azzi asks, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of Paige’s boxers. The older girl lets her head fall back onto the pillows, chest rising and falling with anticipatory breaths.

“Need it,” she mumbles.

“What do you need, baby?”

“You, mommy,” Paige pleads, voice full of desperation. Azzi places a chaste kiss to the inside of Paige’s thigh and pulls her boxers down. They join Paige’s shirt, flung across her desk chair haphazardly.

Azzi slides herself down between Paige’s legs, getting comfy as she moves Paige’s legs over her shoulders. Her eyes zero in on the slick glistening between Paige’s legs. She blows a light breath over Paige’s cunt, making the older girl twitch. Her fingers fist in the sheets, knowing better than to mess up Azzi’s hair. She had just washed it this morning, and she definitely didn’t want to deal with all the complaining if she had to detangle it again because of Paige.

Paige’s eyes flutter closed when she feels Azzi’s tongue slip through her folds. Azzi keeps it simple, going slow, just little kitten licks through her folds. Paige’s breath stutters out, hands twitching in the sheets.

“Need more, mommy, please,” she begs. Azzi licks over her clit once, making Paige’s tummy tense. She pulls away just far enough to speak.

“You taste so good. My sweet girl, dripping onto the bed for me. So good,” she praises. Paige is officially gone. A little whimper slips out of her mouth just from the words. Azzi watches as her cunt clenches around nothing. She quickly brings her thumb down to play with Paige’s clit, giving her just enough stimulation to bring the pleasure back and erase the overwhelming feeling of emptiness.

“Shh, I got you honey. Just relax and let it feel good. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.” Paige’s body is relaxing before her mind has really even processed the words. She’s rewarded with Azzi’s mouth back on her cunt, licking through her folds again but with the added pressure of her thumb on her clit this time. It feels euphoric.

The tension in Paige’s core is building and building as Azzi continues her gentle but focused actions. The little sounds coming from the older girl are continuous now as she shifts, trying to get even more pleasure out of every movement.

“Just breathe for me, Paige,” Azzi instructs. Paige’s body obeys without thinking. She sucks in a deep, steady breath, and the pleasure washes over her deeper. She breathes out and suddenly Azzi is sucking her clit into her mouth. Paige lets out something like a sob.

“Does that feel good?” Azzi asks, knowing the answer. Paige nods desperately.

“Mommy, I can’t– please– so close,” she gasps. Azz’s free hand slides over Paige’s stomach in broad, soothing strokes.

“I know honey, you’re doing so good for me. Doin’ so good, pretty girl. Just keep breathing. I’ll make you feel good,” Azzi promises. The words push Paige even closer as she focuses on her breathing, trying her best not to buck her hips when Azzi goes back to sucking on her clit.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for Paige to be writhing on the bed, Azzi’s words washing over her in waves as she begs to come.

“Gonna cum, please, can I cum, mommy, can I–” her mouth splits open on a cry as Azzi thrusts her tongue into her cunt.

“Let go, Paige. You can come. Feel good for me, sweet girl,” Azzi coos. That’s all it takes. Paige shakes to pieces on the bed while Azzi keeps fucking her on her tongue, humming as she feels the slick gush from Paige’s cunt.

“That’s it. You taste so good babygirl. Being so good,” she soothes. She pulls away from Paige’s cunt, letting the older girl twitch through the aftershocks of her orgasm. She just runs her hands over Paige’s arms and legs and stomach– any skin she can reach.

“You did so good for me, Paige,” Azzi whispers one last time, pressing a kiss into Paige’s hair. Paige breathes out shakily, still trying to make her lungs work.

“Thanks,” she whispers back. Azzi laughs quietly.

“You’re welcome, baby. You ready to go to bed now?” She asks. Paige starts to nod before she stops herself.

“Wait, lemme get you before we sleep,” she says, brows knitting together. She looks genuinely distressed at the idea of going to bed before getting Azzi off, but the younger girl just pushes her back down onto the bed carefully, tucking the blankets around her.

“I’m okay,” she says. Paige starts to argue but she shuts her up with a kiss. “Really, Paige. I promise. You’re tired. We can go to sleep,” Azzi promises. Paige still looks like she wants to fight the statements, but Azzi just cups her cheeks and looks her right in the eyes.

“You can get me off tomorrow. I swear. But right now we’re both tired, so let’s just go to bed. Please.” Her voice softens on the last word and Paige’s resistance crumbles. All it takes is their arms wrapped around each other, a couple of whispered I love you’s, and the warmth of the blankets. They’re both asleep in a matter of minutes.

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Six

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just haven’t been satisfied with this, but I think I just need to bite the bullet and let it go. I’ve had this in the drafts for a while and have edited it three times.

A/N: I think I might focus on some blurbs. Or, if y’all want, y’all can submit ideas for what Smalltown is gonna be like. I gotta write down a general background for Reader’s childhood there. I have a plan, but wouldn’t mind y’all toss some ideas on to the pile.

A/N: Thank you 🐑 Anon for the happy birthday wishes!

Warning: Kidnapping, Hostage Situation for Reader, Guns, Violence, Death, Yandere Behavior and themes

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

After the initially panic and dread of being kidnapped settles into Reader’s bones, they’re quickly brought to the Iceberg Lounge. Where a Penguin waits to discuss the details of their ransom with them. He’s kidnapped a Wayne or two over the years, but with how well hidden the family has kept their newest member he might as well scope them out and see if he can make a pretty penny from ransoming them. Give them a proper Gotham introduction.

When Penguin finally has Reader he wrongly expects typical Gotham high society behavior. Threats, insult, bargaining, begging, bribing, hell, even crying. But, Reader, even while terrified, keeps being polite. Referring to him as Mr. Penguin, Sir, and saying please and thank you, while doing exactly what they’re told. Honestly, Reader’s more polite and respectful than half his goons and his own goddamn children. Such a damn shame they couldn’t have been his brat.

So he chats with them. Just for a bit.

How does Reader like Gotham? Who’s their favorite bat brat? What’s their favorite food? How much money did your Momma and Daddy leave you? Just friendly get-to-know you questions to help with the nerves. No need to worry. Everyone’s a bit scared during their first kidnapping. But, do they usually live past the first one, sir? Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t ya? You’ll have to be careful with that.

It’s all quite tense for Reader, just sitting in an empty club with a dangerous man. That is, until word comes in that Bruce Wayne is paying the ransom in full. Apparently, it made Gotham headlines. The newest Wayne kidnapped. It’s all over the News, nearly every channel. Yet, Reader notices something. Why don’t they show my face, sir? It’s because this isn’t going to be your last time getting kidnapped. You’re in Gotham, baby bird. We’re all hostages in this city. How sweet of them to try to protect you from it.

It isn’t long after that, when the lounge gets visitor before the ransom money could even be dropped off.

Red Hood.

One of the Bat Brats, as Penguin calls him. His arrival raising Cain. Rubber bullets and real ones flying everywhere. Penguin gets a hold of Reader, rest his umbrella gun to their temple. Come now, Red. Don’t make me blow their pretty little head off. I’m actually fond of this one. Best of the Wayne bunch, in my not-so-humble opinion.

And, in one of the few times since becoming Red Hood, Jason hesitates. Because if he fails, if Reader gets hurt like he did, he’ll probably burn Gotham to the ground. It’s not an option. He can’t, he won’t, and he will not allow it. And, that thought, is at the forefront of his mind as he looks at Reader’s terrified face with a gun pointed at their head.

The pause, however, is noticeable. Not just to Reader, but to Penguin as well. A sign of weakness or a sign of something more foreboding. It last for a brief moment. Then Red Hood is back in action. Only, in that single moment, a decision was made. A dark decision. Something that had been healed and supposedly buried.

Batman had always fostered the importance of preparedness in them. So, of course, Jason had a magazine of live bullets ready to go for an emergency. And, this was a fucking emergency. Who cares about a few goons? And Penguin fucking deserves it.

Bruce will understand this time. How sad is it that he does?

Penguin barely escapes, with only a handful of his men still breathing and a few bullets in his shoulder, but he lives. Along with the information that the newest Wayne brat is precious enough to a Bat Brat to break the no-kill code again. Though, that might in itself become a problem for Gotham. Once again, Gotham will baptized in blood. Only, the sins are still growing under the red water. Perhaps, this time Gotham will drown in it instead.

Jason grabs a shaking and terrified Reader while leaving the lounge filled with bodies. He’ll take care of it later. Right now he needs to get Reader back to the manor, or somewhere anywhere safe. Away from Gotham, away from its criminals, and, most of all, away from him.

For a moment he had been… enraptured when he saw how scared his precious Reader looked with a gun to their head. How they looked at him with such a pitiful pleading expression. The way the shook and quaked. How fucking big their eyes got in fear.

Reader kept looking at him with those same watery fearful eyes. Those shaking fingers. A tremble that they must be all the way down to their bones. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute.

He didn’t make it for before he snapped, grabbing Reader’s face to ask what they talked with Penguin about. What did he want from you? Why did you look so friendly with him? Don’t you know he’s a criminal. He’s dangerous. He just wants to see them cower like that again. Just once more.

It takes a long moment for him to calm down and pull himself away from terrifying Reader. Eventually, noticing an oncoming storm and realizing he had better get Reader somewhere safe and back to Bruce so he can go back and clean up the trash.

Jason leaves a throughly shaken and distraught Reader on the GCPD roof. Right next to a lit Bat Signal for a tired Jim Gordan to find.

Jim finds Reader in the storm, mildly despondent from the entire ordeal. After ushering them inside and trying to lightly question them, he makes a call to Bruce that Red Hood had rescued Reader and they the GCPD had them safe. Bruce, naturally , breaks all sorts of traffic laws to get to them when he hears the concerned tone in Jim’s voice.

Reader, exhausted from the days events and shock, falls asleep in one of the spare chairs in the GCPD building. Bruce practically melts in relief when he finds them, picking them up and gently loading them in his car. NOT A DAMN TRUCK. To take them back home. Most of the GCPD find the gesture touching. What a sweet father he is. How lucky Reader is to have such a loving father.

Arriving home, Bruce puts Reader to bed, and makes sure Alfred is on stand by to comfort them and see to their every need. Watch them. Let me know if there’s even the slightest sign of a nightmare.

After taking a moment to let his eyes linger on a sleeping Reader, he heads down into the Batcave. Calling the family together for a meeting.

Stephanie is distraught. It’s her fault Reader got taken, all her fault. She shouldn’t have left them alone. She should have been right there be their side the entire time. At every moment and got every second.

And, Bruce, with deceptively calm yet devastating words, confirms just as much.

Surprisingly, there’s no shouting. No disagreements. Not from Stephanie, and certainly not from any one else. Just the cold realization that it was her fault Reader was nearly hurt and the solemn acceptance of it. They were supposed to have a chance to get close. Stephane won’t ever let it happen again. She’ll always be close from now on. In every way she can. Even if she’s not worthy.

Jason having gone back to clean up his mess before reporting back to Bruce and the others had more startling news. No one mentions a thing when they see the blood on him. Nor the empty magazines. Nor that familiar look in his eyes that reminds them of when he first came back. Someone had torched the Iceberg Lounge before he got back. Penguin is still running free, but the lounge is up in fire and smoke.

He did manage to see a figure leaving when he finally saw past the flames.

A Talon.

The Court of the Owls was active once more.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

With the whole Kidnapping thing and the Court being active again despite its previous destruction, Reader’s life went on completely lockdown. They aren’t allowed to go into Gotham at all. Not that they wanted to. The only reason Bruce didn’t just unenrolled them from Gotham Academy is because Damian, Cassandra, and Duke vow to watch them closely and report everything back to him.

Alfred, from then on, drives them all to and from school. Leading to quiet, bordering awkward, mornings and afternoons.

After the whole ordeal with Penguin and Red Hood, Reader is ninety percent certain the family is Gotham’s Bat vigilantes. Mainly due to the fact that Red Hood reminded Reader eerily of how Jason acted to be around them. Luckily, he barely managed to hold himself back. But, it was clear, enjoyed their fear and wanted to scare them. The whole situation resulted in Reader’s momentarily loss of control.

It also didn’t help that everyone seemed to disappear now.

Sure, Reader rides to school with Cassandra and Duke everyday. Damian is also there, but he just silently watches them with those poisonous green eyes of his. The three of them now hovering in the distance down the back of Reader’s neck. Nevertheless, as soon as they were all back in the Manor, the place becomes like a ghosttown. Even Alfred disappears for hours on end now.

Reader rightful assumes it’s more Bat work. But, there’s no one there to talk about how the incident made them feel. To help them verbally process the ordeal. It hurts.

What hurt the most, however, was Stephanie avoiding them.

Now, if Stephanie had just given them even an empty excuse and left the room it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much. But, to watch the blood drain from Stephanie’s face at the sight of Reader and then physically run away from them was offensive and down right painful.

Then there’s the additional fact that, coincidentally, Jason starts showing back up at the manor. Undoubtedly, helping the others with whatever they’re doing in the library. But, Reader sees him as more often as they pace the empty halls of the manor. And, that hysterical gleam in his eyes reminds them of that night they were rescued.

Tim has been like a ghost since the beginning of Reader’s stay. Every time Reader seems to make progress befriending him, he disappears. Only to reappear and act like nothing happened. Unnaturally, he acts like they’re somehow even closer than before. Each and every time. Like he’s never let Reader alone. Ever. Like he’s always been there watching. And, then he disappears, again and again. Only staying for brief moments.

Barbara is just a thought in Reader’s mind. Reader has seen more of Jim Gordon, her father, than Barbara in the recent weeks.

Mr. Gordon had been wanting to check in on them after the incident and ask them a few questions on what happened that night at the Iceberg Lounge. He was quite gentle in his interrogation, if you could call it that. Barbara had told him Reader wasn’t used to Gotham’s madness and must be treated gently.

Not to say Barbara isn’t checking on Reader. Tim’s not the only on constantly checking the manor cameras as Reader paces.

Dick was like a stray wind. Blowing through the manor, knocking Reader over with the shower of affection then disappearing again. To the library. To Buldhaven. To the ends of the world and back for all they knew. Unfortunately, Reader was growing desperate for any sense of comfort and would cling to him when he came. You have no idea how happy that made him. It was so cute how sad Reader was when he left now. How nice it felt to be needed.

Bruce was different, though. After the incident, he somehow managed to find a way to suffocate Reader with his presence without even being in it for long. Appearing at random to just watch them before disappearing again. Nothing was ever said. He just watched them then vanished.

Reader dreads having to bring up the whole incident with Penguin and Red Hood to Nana. They don’t want to cause anyone back home to worry. Besides, it’ll just remind everyone about that incident a few years back. The one that Reader does everything to forget about. The incident that would probably change a few things for better or for worse. For the family and for Gotham.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Yeah, Penguin lives. But, for a reason. Don’t get mad, please. (I did research and found out he was basically Yandere for his mother and killed his father and brothers to have all her attention for himself. And, he has children. 👀)

A/N: Also, reader’s getting some mild tragic backstory. It’s the DC universe. Everything’s gotta have a bit of bitterness. It’s all for the plot.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Taglist:

@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury

[worlds-we-write]

Figured You Out

pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: A teasing glance turns dangerous when Joel finally snaps, dragging you into the stables for something raw, filthy, and unforgettable.

Setting: Jackson, after a town gathering.

Rating: Explicit (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~2.4K

Content Warnings: Rough sex, degradation, semi-public sex, face-fucking, spitting, hair-pulling, slapping (ass/face), light choking, forced kneeling (consensual non-consent vibe), possessiveness, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, denied creampie (he comes on her dress), use of force, name-calling (slut, whore), dom!Joel, unprotected sex.

AN: this is HEAVILY inspired from Figured You Out by Nickelback 😏 y’all enjoy !!

You wore that dress on purpose.

You hadn’t worn it in months, not since the weather turned. But tonight? You were itching for attention. His attention.

Joel fucking Miller, with his quiet brooding looks and hands that could break a man’s neck or knead bread dough—depending on his mood. You’d caught him staring halfway through the gathering, a beer in his hand, that sharp jaw clenched tight.

Joel had been staring at you all night like he wanted to tear you apart, and the worst part? You wanted him to. You wanted to see just how far that scowl of his could go, wanted to know how hard those calloused hands could grip. How soft his drawl could sound when you had your thighs around his ears.

You flirted with someone else just to push it. Laughed a little louder, bent a little further. Just enough to test him.

And you passed the test.

Because now you’re stumbling into the stables, your back hitting the wall hard enough to knock the air from your lungs, and Joel slams the door shut behind him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doin’,” he snarls, voice low and lethal.

Your heart pounds.

He crowds you, chest heaving. “You think I didn’t see you? Smilin’ at that little shit. Laughin’ like you didn’t know I was watchin’. You wanted me pissed.”

You swallow. “Maybe.”

That’s all it takes.

“You like teasin’ me, huh?” he growls.

The smell of horses and sweat is thick in the air—but all you can breathe is him.

“I saw you,” he says low, voice dripping with venom and lust. “Flirtin’ with that idiot by the food table. Laughin’ like you ain’t already mine.”

“I’m not yours,” you gasp, though your thighs clench when he pushes a thigh between them.

His hand grabs your jaw, forcing your gaze up to his. “The fuck you ain’t.”

Joel’s mouth crashes into yours. It’s not a kiss—it’s a punishment. Teeth, tongue, a low groan rumbling from his chest when you whimper against him. His hands are everywhere—tugging your dress up, finding bare skin.

“You came out here wantin’ this,” he mutters, lips dragging over your throat. “That little fuckin’ dress—knew it’d get my attention.”

“I wore it for me,” you breathe, but it’s weak, shaky, and he knows it.

“Bullshit.”

His fingers find your panties—already soaked—and he chuckles darkly. “You’re drippin’. Goddamn. All that attitude, and you’re fuckin’ soaked just from me lookin’ at you.”

You whimper when he shoves your panties aside and drags a rough finger through your folds.

“So fuckin’ wet,” he mutters like he hates you for it—but he’s obsessed.

His lips find your neck again, biting hard enough to leave a mark while his fingers press inside you—one, then two—curling deep, slow, until you’re gasping.

“Bet he wouldn’t know what to do with this pussy,” he growls. “Not like I do.”

“Joel,” you pant, hips rocking against his hand.

“Say it again.”

“Joel—fuck.”

He pumps harder, rougher, until your legs shake. You’re clinging to him now, nails digging into his shoulders, dress hiked up around your waist while he ruins you with his fingers alone.

“That’s it, darlin’. Gonna come just like this?” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “On my fingers? In the fuckin’ stable like a dirty little slut?”

Your walls flutter around him—so close it hurts.

He grins against your jaw. “That’s right. Come for me. Let me feel how much you fuckin’ need it.”

Your body arches, spasms, a cry ripping from your throat as you come hard—legs trembling, mouth slack, stars bursting behind your eyelids.

But Joel isn’t done.

Joel growls, grabs you, spins you around and slams your front against the wall. His hand snakes around to yank the front of your dress down, exposing your tits to the cold air.

And then he’s pulling you back, dragging you down to the floor. You stumble, and before you know it, you’re on your knees in the dirt and hay, the rough ground biting into your skin.

Joel stands above you, already undoing his belt, voice gravel-rough. “You want attention? You got it, sweetheart.”

You glance up at him through your lashes, panting. He’s got that look in his eye—hungry, dangerous. His cock’s already hard when he pulls it free, thick and flushed.

“Open your mouth,” he growls.

You obey without question, and he groans as he strokes himself once, twice, then slaps the head against your tongue.

“Look at you,” he mutters, staring down at you like you’re a meal. “Prettiest little slut in Jackson. On her knees in the dirt with drool already on her chin.”

He thrusts into your mouth without warning, hitting the back of your throat with a grunt. You choke, but he doesn’t care. His hand grabs the back of your head, holding you there while he fucks your mouth.

“Take it,” he hisses. “That’s right. Take it all. Fuckin’ knew you’d be good at this.”

Your eyes water. Spit runs down your chin, and he groans again when you gag around him. You grip his thighs for balance, letting him use you.

“Messy girl,” he mutters. “Gettin’ off on this, huh? Bet your pussy’s drippin’ just from havin’ my cock in your mouth.”

You whimper around him. He pulls out suddenly, breathing hard, cock slick with spit.

“Turn around,” he says. “Bend over. Hands on the wall.”

You scramble to obey, legs trembling. He steps behind you, and you gasp when his hands push your dress up—just high enough to expose your soaked panties.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he mutters. “You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

“Y’know what I figured out?” he rasps, lining himself up. “You like it rough. Like when I use you. You want me mean.”

You moan helplessly, heart pounding.

He slides two fingers inside you—rough and deep. You moan, forehead pressed to the wall.

“Joel—please—”

“Please what?” he says, curling his fingers cruelly. “You wanna come again already?”

You nod frantically.

He pulls his hand away.

“Too bad.”

You sob out a frustrated noise, hips twitching.

Then he’s there—lining himself up behind you, dragging the head of his cock through your slick.

“You ain’t gettin’ it gentle,” he warns. “Not after that little stunt tonight.”

And then he slams into you.

You cry out, body jolting against the wall. He grabs your hips, bruising grip as he pounds into you.

“Fuckin’ tight,” he groans. “This pussy’s mine. You hear me?”

“Yes—Joel—yes—”

“You don’t flirt with anyone else,” he snarls. “Not when this sweet little cunt belongs to me.”

You’re moaning uncontrollably now, each thrust shoving you up against the wall. His hand snakes around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he breathes into your ear. “Gettin’ choked and fucked like a whore in a stable. You like this?”

You can barely speak. “Yes—fuck—yes—”

“Say it.”

“I’m your dirty girl—yours—only yours—”

Joel groans loud, hips slamming harder.

“Bet no one’s ever fucked you like this,” he mutters. “Bent you over in public. Made you drool all over yourself.”

Your legs tremble. You’re so close, can’t take much more.

“I shoulda done this a long time ago,” he snarls. “Shoulda bent you over and filled you up the second you walked into Jackson.”

His fingers find your clit, rubbing rough and fast.

“You’re gonna come again,” he commands. “Don’t give a fuck how sensitive you are. You’re takin’ it.”

He growls. “Come on my cock like the needy little slut you are.”

You cry out as it hits—hard—your whole body tensing as your orgasm rips through you. Your walls spasm around him, and Joel curses behind you, panting.

He pulls out suddenly.

“Get back on your knees.”

You’re barely coherent, but you do it—collapsing to your knees in the dirt again, still shaking.

Joel fists his cock in front of your face, eyes locked on the wrecked state of you—flushed, lips parted, dress bunched up around your hips.

He strokes himself fast, groaning.

“Gonna ruin that fuckin’ dress,” he grits out. “Mark you so everyone knows who you belong to.”

You whimper, mouth open, desperate to taste him.

But instead—he groans loud, cock jerking, and hot ropes of cum spill all over your dress, streaking the front of it, dripping down the fabric and soaking into the neckline.

“Fuck,” he pants, hand squeezing the base of his cock, a few final drops falling onto your chest.

The smell of sweat and sex fills the air.

You stay still—frozen, panting, come dripping down your dress—as Joel steps back and zips up his jeans.

For a moment, all you hear is the heavy rise and fall of your breath. The stable’s gone still again. Quiet. But your heart is still racing.

Then Joel crouches in front of you, calloused fingers gently tilting your chin up.

His voice is soft now—low and dangerous in a different way.

“You wear that dress again,” he murmurs, thumb brushing across your spit-slick lips, “I ain’t stoppin’ at this.”

You blink at him.

He smirks, brushes a kiss to your jaw.

“Next time, I’m fillin’ you up.”

[duvetchico]

Hii, i’m not sure if you’re taking requests so feel free to ignore this lol. But i wanted to request a Oneshot with lsf Eunchae x Fem!Reader dating in secret, and when the other members suspect something’s going on between them, they try to stalk them to see what’s up and they get caught kissing. Love your blog btw <3

eunchASMR

summary y/n and eunchae have been secretly dating for a while now. the other members know something's up. so naturally, they form a top-tier girl group spy squad to catch them in the act. too bad eunchae and y/n are about to make their dumbest move yet: kissing in a public hallway.

genre secret dating / fluff / utter hell

pairing hong eunchae x fem!reader

masterlist.

“i’m telling you. something is happening.”

chaewon slams her hands down on the dorm’s kitchen table like she just uncovered a murder. everyone jumps. kazuha drops her strawberry milk.

“eunchae doesn’t even like strawberry milk,” chaewon hisses. “but yesterday, she drank it. and said, quote: ‘y/n likes it so i’m tryna understand her taste buds.’”

sakura raises a brow. “maybe she’s just being a good dongsaeng?”

“okay but then why did she SKIP PRACTICE to go to y/n’s room and come back with her hoodie.”

“…maybe she was cold?”

yunjin suddenly appears from behind the fridge door with a full powerpoint pulled up on her ipad. slide 1 is titled: ‘EUNCHAE AND Y/N ARE LESBIANS: A THESIS’

kazuha is filming from behind a house plant. yunjin wears a bucket hat and fake mustache.

chaewon peeks from behind a laundry rack. “targets approaching.”

you and eunchae walk by, laughing about some inside joke. eunchae keeps nudging you. you nudge back. then she leans her head on your shoulder.

sakura whisper-yells. “SHE JUST NESTLED. I REPEAT, NESTLE CONFIRMED.”

“shut up,” yunjin says, “i’m trying to hear the dialogue.”

“you wanna put subtitles too?” kazuha mumbles, chewing on popcorn.

you’re sprawled on the floor, scrolling through your phone. eunchae climbs over the couch and lands on top of you like she owns the place.

“hi.”

“you’re heavy.”

“you’re in denial.”

you glare. she grins. you bonk her with a pillow. she dramatically gasps and falls over like she’s been murdered. and then, just as you're about to steal her spot—

she pulls you back by the wrist, wraps herself around you, and mutters:

“stay. you’re warm.”

meanwhile, sakura is in the corner recording like national geographic. “the prey has been caught,” she whispers. “the gay is strong here,” yunjin adds.

you and eunchae sneak off to the hallway like you’re not being monitored by four nosy idols and several hidden cameras.

eunchae: “they’re not gonna find us here.”

you: “girl this is literally a hallway outside the living room.”

eunchae: “exactly. they’ll never expect it.”

you roll your eyes. she grabs your face and kisses you like she hasn’t seen you in years. your hand is in her hair. she giggles halfway through. you giggle back.

then— click

you both freeze.

“did you hear that?” you whisper.

eunchae turns slowly. and there they are:

chaewon mid-photo. kazuha holding the “eunchae lesbian activity tracker” notebook. yunjin aiming her ipad like it’s a goddamn telescope. sakura holding chips.

“…sup,” yunjin says casually.

“EXPLAIN,” chaewon demands.

eunchae shrugs. “ok. we’re dating. what now?”

silence.

then sakura starts clapping.

they won’t leave you alone.

“don’t kiss in the hallway, you lesbians,” chaewon says.

kazuha creates a folder called “the softest sapphic footage.”

yunjin prints a photo of you two holding hands and tapes it on the fridge with “GAY RIGHTS” in comic sans.

sakura just wants y’all to film a couples vlog so she can edit it to the song “lovers rock.”

eunchae winks at you across the room. you blush.

“still wanna keep it secret?” she whispers when she passes you.

“…no comment,” you mumble, and she grins like she just won the gay olympics.

[chelseeebe]

still into you

after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?

this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!

read part two here.

‎♡‧₊˚

‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.

‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.

you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.

he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.

‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’

‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.

‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.

‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.

‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.

once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.

he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..

it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.

from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.

at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?

but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.

people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.

steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.

it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.

‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.

‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’

he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.

you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.

-

it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.

‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.

you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.

‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.

you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.

‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.

you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’

‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’

you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.

‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.

‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.

‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.

‘when d’you finish?’

narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’

‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.

he wasn’t wrong, of course.

because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.

-

you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.

no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.

steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.

‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.

he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.

you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.

‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.

‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.

‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.

she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.

‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’

‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’

your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.

nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.

you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.

there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.

they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.

‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.

your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.

‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.

‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?

‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.

‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.

your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.

steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’

you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.

‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.

‘please.’

the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.

you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’

your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’

he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’

‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’

he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.

‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.

‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.

you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.

‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.

will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.

‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.

he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.

it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.

deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’

he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.

-

it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.

‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.

‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.

‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.

‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’

‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.

‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.

‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.

he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’

‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.

‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.

-

monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.

in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.

‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.

you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.

‘when’d that happen?’

blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.

‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.

nothing.

‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.

‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.

he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.

‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.

you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.

‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.

eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’

‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’

he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.

‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’

‘so you’re not together?’

you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.

un-fucking-believable.

you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.

‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.

‘now why would i do that?’

‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’

one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.

‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’

his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.

‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.

were you actually gonna go?

absolutely fucking not.

-

by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.

she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.

‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.

he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.

‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.

‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.

and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.

‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’

you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.

‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.

and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.

and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.

‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’

‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’

you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.

opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.

‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.

‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.

‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.

‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.

‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’

you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’

he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.

‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?

‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.

his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.

you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.

‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.

‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’

his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’

which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.

‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.

‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’

‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.

‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.

‘i should.’

his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’

and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.

scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.

he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.

his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.

he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.

eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.

‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’

‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.

you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.

‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.

‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.

you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.

his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.

working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.

it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.

he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.

eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.

‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.

you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.

your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.

he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.

you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.

your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.

his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.

‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.

eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.

it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.

you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.

the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.

having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.

he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.

and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.

his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.

you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.

‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.

‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.

‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.

if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.

eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.

and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.

‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.

‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.

he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.

‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’

‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.

‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.

your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.

the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.

‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.

he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.

‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.

you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.

but he doesn’t.

eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.

everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

-

‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’

you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.

‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.

you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.

‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.

you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.

‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,

‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.

you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?

eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

-

the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.

he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.

‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’

‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’

he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.

‘hmm? why’s that?’

he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.

‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.

he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.

‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’

you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.

‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.

your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.

‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.

‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.

‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.

‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.

‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’

steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.

‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.

you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.

because that’s what this is, right?

just sex with an ex?

‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.

‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.

‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’

you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.

‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.

he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.

-

when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.

the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.

‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.

‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.

‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.

‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.

‘yeah sure.’

you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.

‘so.. you two?’

eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.

steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.

‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.

‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’

‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.

‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.

‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.

‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.

you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.

‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.

if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.

the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.

‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.

‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.

christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.

‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.

eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.

you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker. 

‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.

you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.

‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.

you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.

‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.

‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’

if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.

you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.

you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.

‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.

you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.

he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.

‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’

and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.

idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.

[lxvvie]

hhhhHHHHHHHH I just wanna be graves little housewife so BAD oh my god

Like I want him and all his shadows over at our house for a 4th of July cookout and honey I have got it MADE. I got brisket, I got mac and cheese, I got baby back ribs with the bone coming out SPOTLESS, I got mashed potatoes, I got hot dogs, I got burgers, peach cobbler, pecan pie, chocolate pie, I got damn good beer and even BETTER whiskey. Those boys gonna be eating GOOD when they come over to visit their commander's house. And I look like the perfect little sundress wearing housewife while I do it 🥰

I spoil that man so good all the shadows are low-key jealous of him 🤭

Graves ain’t a jealous guy. Usually. But when it comes to his baby— you, darlin’— Phillip guards you like a goddamn fortress. The bastard is many things but ungrateful ain’t one of them. He knows a blessing when he sees one, sweetheart, and you’re God sent.

So when he sees his men devouring the food, downing their drinks, practically licking the fuckin’ plates clean, and eyeing you something fierce, a mixture of envy and desire, Graves… doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t really need to, honestly. The smirk on his face and glint in his eyes says it all.

Y’all can look, but y’all can’t touch.

[icysinner]

streamer bf

#ID: i cannot get ony out of my head. streamer!onyankopon who’s ur lovely bf.

warnings: the n word comes up a couple times but like why are u surprised

nya note: i apologize for my absence 🫡 here’s my peace treaty

your boyfriend started streaming on twitch about three months into your relationship, something that he imagined he’d just be doing for fun took off into something way bigger. before he knew it, onyankopon had fans from all over the globe, and nearly a million subscribers. by the time you and onyankopon moved in together, one of the extra bedrooms you had in your home became his room specifically designed for streaming.

ϟ

a yawn left your lips as you poked your head into the room, ony was streaming. “what you playing?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe. your voice startled him, mostly because he didn’t hear the door to signal you were home. “goddamn, girl. when you get in here?” he asked, pretending to be irritated with you, but his pearly white teeth showed in a smile anyways. “i just got home, you didn’t answer my question.” you replied, holding up your keys and jingling them. “uh, siege.” onyankopon answered, seemingly in a daze but making eye contact with you at the same time.

you walked over to the screens and camera, onyankopon’s eyes following you the whole time. you leaned over to wave and smile at the camera, the chat greeting you just as you did them.

marisosexual omg it’s mom.

onysgf our girlfriend is home

ony’s eyes rolled at the chat, only because everyone was suddenly so nice now that you were here. “nah, don’t be in the chat tryna be nice now.” he said, “y’all niggas was just in here telling me i’m ass.” the chat responded in, ‘it’s because u are’, making him scoff again. “they’re really mean to you for people who consider themselves fans.” you said, holding back laughs at everyone making fun of onyankopon.

“they just think being assholes to me gets them cool points with you, thirsty asses.” ony said with a smile, grabbing you by your hand to pull you into him. “they want what they can’t have.” your lower half was the only thing seen on the screen, and ony’s arms were wrapped around it. he smiled at the camera, putting up one of his middle fingers. “they’re gonna screenshot this and post it on twitter, my ass is gonna be on twitter for everyone to see.” you joked, smiling. “eh, let ‘em see it. it’s nice.” onyankopon replied, returning the same smile.