#who’s the asshole here hmm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lalunanymph · 5 months ago

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𝟏𝟏:𝟒𝟗𝐏𝐌 ─── your husband notices everything about you—even the things you don't notice about yourself

˚୨୧⋆ sylus x wife!reader

˚୨୧⋆ warnings: wife!reader, reader has just given birth a few months ago, jealous sylus!!, pregnancy, implied mentions of a fight, injuries, mentions of b/lood, explicit s/mut, implication of o/ral, teasing, petnames (wife, darling, doll, sweetie), daddy k/ink, breeding, shamelessly self-indulgent AND very selfship-coded :')

Nothing ever escapes Sylus’ attention.

Other than cunning resourcefulness being his trademark which many associate with ravens—his favorite bird—another marker of your husband’s personality is that like a hawk, he’s acutely aware of everything.

Tonight’s date night after you’ve given birth to the twins didn’t go exactly as planned.

While Sylus was in a convenience store, buying the both of you drinks to whet off the balminess of the summer evening, you were approached by an obviously drunk man who asked if you were here alone.

After countless times of trying (and failing) to convince him that your husband wouldn’t be too happy about his unwanted advances, the man in question whose ring is around your finger appears, tall and imposing.

Safe to say, the night ended with one bloody nose, and a pair of split knuckles, the latter being the ones you were currently patching up.

Your husband is reclining back against the plush pillows, black dress shirt unbuttoned slightly and showing off the deep divot of his pecs. His face is a mixture of emotions—anger, frustration, possessiveness, a hint of concern. All coalescing into one tense ball he keeps close to his chest as the adrenaline from the encounter with that sleazebag still hums through his veins.

You stow your phone back into your purse, sighing.

“I've texted Sara to keep the twins for the night. I think we're both too angry and might say or do something rash.”

His expression softens and he lets out a sigh, the anger and tension slowly starting to ebb away as he gazes at you.

“... that’s good. I wouldn’t want them to see me in this state.”

You sigh again, picking up his bandaged hands.

“Y’know, I did tell him my husband was a big, scary man, but he still persisted in demanding a date,” you bring your husband’s knuckles to your lips, kissing the contused flesh softly.

Sylus grunts, rolling his eyes, though his expression softens at your sweet gesture. “Some people just don’t know when to take a hint… so, I had to make a point.”

You scoff, clutching his hands tighter. “Yes. By socking him in the face. Very classy.”

Instead of appearing reticent like a sane person would, Sylus chuckles. “Didn’t see you complaining when you were cooing all over me, patching up like a good, little wife.”

His words make a flash of heat run through you, and you shoot him an exasperated glare. “Well, at least you looked sexy doing it. Punching that asshole in the face. Consider that compensation for tonight’s turn of events," politely, you add, “Thank you for defending my honor, darling.”

He lets out a low chuckle, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. Crimson eyes darken with a mixture of desire and affection, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips.

“No need to thank me, sweetie. It’s always a pleasure of mine to defend your honor. No one gets to disrespect you without facing repercussions.”

You squirm in his lap, hitching a breath when you feel his hands play with the straps of your dress. Slowly, he drags them down, touch hot and insistent as the pads of his fingers graze your bare shoulder.

“Really, Sylus?” You try to look vexed, but the breathlessness his touch incites only fuels him to misbehave further. “Defending me has seriously gotten you all hot and bothered?”

Your husband grins at your teasing tone, a wicked gleam in his eye as he continues to push the straps of your dress down further, baring more of your skin to his heated stare. His hands continue to explore, tracing over your exposed skin.

“Hmm. I suppose seeing you in danger… really ignited something in me. Hearing someone insult you and disrespect what’s mine… makes me want to claim you all over again.”

Warmth fills your cheeks, and you fail to fight back a shiver. “T-that doesn’t make any sense.”

Sylus’ fingers are now trailing your collarbone, tracing the marks he left there from the night before.

“It doesn’t need to make sense, doll. It’s something primal. Seeing you in danger like that… and the look on your face when I punched that idiot senseless… It's titillating. I just want to claim my wife, remind you and everyone else that you belong to me, body and soul and future baby.”

Heat licks down your spine, and you shudder at his words.

“F-future baby?”

Sylus’ hands snake to your bare back, caressing the expanse of skin with soft, ticklish circles. Without warning, he leans in, lips hovering close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Yes, doll. Future baby. I'm going to fill you with my seed. Breed you over and over until I'm sure you're pregnant. And in a few weeks, we'll have a mini-us growing in your belly, a physical reminder of my claim on you."

His words are soft and sound almost sweet, but the filthiness in them makes you gasp, involuntarily arching your body into his.

“Sylus…”

The idea of him claiming you again so boldly after defending you from danger turns you on like nothing in this world can. You know you have much to discuss with him about having another baby, considering you had just given birth to Sabrina and Protus a few months ago. But, in this instance, desire overtakes logic and all you want is to feel your husband deep inside you again.

His lips are cool when they touch your jugular, trailing down the column of your neck until they reach your heaving chest.

“Sy…” you whisper, eyes fluttering close. “Stop… teasing me.”

You want this, he realizes with a jolt. You want this as much as he does.

He lets out a low chuckle, hands continuing to caress every inch of your skin.

“Oh, my pretty little doll. It’s not teasing anymore. It’s a promise.” His lips touch your ear, the heat of his breath and words snapping the last of your resolve. “And you know I never break my promises, doll.”

A whimper slips from your parted mouth. The heat in this room is too much to bear, pressing down on you with the weight of an ocean closing in.

You can barely breathe when you exhale, “Breed me. Please… breed me.”

Your bastard of a husband grins at your desperate plea, his hands gripping your hips tighter. It’s the predatory confidence of a man who knows he has you completely at his mercy, begging for him to claim you completely.

“Say it again,” his fingers dance to the hair at the nape of your neck, sinking his fingers into your soft locks and using it to snap your face up to meet his darkened gaze. “Tell me you want me to breed you. Tell me you want to only belong to me.”

The bite of pain pulls a wanton moan from your trembling lips, and you lose all bearings and composure, giving in to the desire which always leaves you wanting more of him on your knees.

“Oh god... please... breed me, Daddy. Make me yours. P-put a baby inside of me and make me a mama again…”

Sylus’ eyes darken at your plea, the possessive need flaring in his chest. Those blood-red eyes burn with the desire of keeping and making his promise come true.

“Lay back, sweetie. Go on—there’s a good girl.” His bigger body hovers over you, pressing you into the bed. “Good girl. You're such a good girl, doll. Asking Daddy to breed you, begging to be filled with my seed, to carry my baby. You're mine. Mine to breed, mine to claim. Mine to make you a mommy again."

His words whip through you like an electric shock. You gasp, eyes fluttering and body arching further into his touch.

“Please… yes…”

As much as his self-control is reaching its breaking point, he needs to hear the words coming straight from your mouth; his grip on your hips tighten, eyes darkening with possessiveness.

"You want this, doll? You want Daddy to fill you up—make sure you're pregnant with my baby?"

Your nod is equal parts desperation and desire. You lick your lips, nodding.

“Yes,” your whisper is like a bullet tearing through his chest, leaving it hot and stinging with pure need. “Yes, I want it so badly.”

Sylus groans, your words igniting the unquenchable thirst inside of him to make you his, his, his.

Tearing the flimsy dress off your frame, he digs his fingers into your hips, mouth leaving a burning trail of kisses and bites across your neck, your jaw, your chest.

Your hands grapple at his clothing, pulling off his expensive, tailor-made button-down and slacks, reaching into the heart of him to expose him fully to your lustful gaze.

He sucks and licks on your nipples until they become all puffy and swollen just for him, and the second you tell him you can’t take it anymore, Sylus stakes his claim by sinking inside of you—inch by delicious inch.

Your pretty, milky pink nails stab into his shoulders, dragging down red lines across the pale expanse of his back. Your heels dig into his hips, and the way you’re desperately clinging onto him, makes him wonder if you want to fuse your body as one with his.

“Sy… Sylus…”

Fuck. He digs his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck, strong hips snapping forward, giving you one powerful thrust after another. Your walls suck him so perfectly, like you were made for him.

He fills you up over and over again, until every load becomes more painful. But, you can't get enough. You keen, beg, and cry for more, milking his promise to make you a mama again for what it’s worth.

Hours seem to pass, ravaging passages of time that are marked by more cum filling you; his shuddering, animalistic groans for you take it darling, take it all, take all of me like music to your ears.

Sylus collapses on top of you, breathing hard and red in the face. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, his hand coming to rest gently on your stomach, caressing the soft skin with shaky fingers.

“Mhm… you’ll be the death of me one day, you know that, sweetie?”

Giggling, you use what remains of your strength to twine your arms around his shoulders. The both of you stay like this for a while, slowly coming down from the high.

Briefly, your hand grazes your belly, and you wonder idly if what he promises has come true—if his seed has already taken.

Sylus, ever keen and observing, chuckles. It’s like he knows exactly what you're thinking. Planting a gentle kiss on top of your head, his voice is low and tender.

“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, sweetie. I have a feeling you're already pregnant with my baby."

Your eyes widen, and you give him a shock look.

Stammering, you say, “How do you know?”

But, you should know this is Sylus you’re talking about. Mastermind of the N109 Zone. The leader of the most notorious organization alive.

He’s always two steps ahead of you, seeing what you can’t see, anticipating what you can’t expect.

Your husband’s palm drifts down to join yours on your stomach, his hand gently resting on yours.

“Call it a lucky guess… or, intuition. A few little signs here and there. Besides, I'm not letting you out of my sight until you confirm it."

His words make your head spin, and you give him a look of reproachful intrigue.

“A… few signs here and there? What are you talking about?”

Sylus nods, his touch reverent and tender.

Without caring for your astonishment, he lays down his observations like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Your scent has been different, sweeter, a little intoxicating. Your body is more sensitive, more responsive to my touch. And there's a glow about you, a soft flush on your cheeks, a sparkle in your eyes. It's subtle, but I notice when it comes to you, doll.”

You gape at him, and without thinking, tighten your grip on your belly.

As if he has a sensor on you, Sylus immediately notices the subconscious gesture.

“Mhm... You've been doing that a lot lately, doll. Touching your belly, caressing your stomach, as if you're already feeling the baby growing inside you. It's adorable, but it's also a bit of a giveaway.”

His tone turns teasing and you flush, flustered beyond measure.

“Wh-what are you? Some kind of werewolf?” You hiss, “How're you so attentive?!”

Your husband chuckles again, amusing himself by brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gently tracing your jawline.

“It's not a matter of being a werewolf. It's just a matter of paying attention to the woman I love.” His grin turns soft, becoming tender at the edges. “I notice everything about you, doll. Every little detail, every change in your body, every little thing. I can't help it. I can't stop watching you. And you just happen to have a few tell-tale signs right now that are screaming 'pregnant'.”

Pouting, you glare at him churlishly, deciding to challenge him. But, underneath the pomp and bravado is an innate curiosity to see how far your husband’s perception can go.

“Tell me more then, since I myself don't seem to notice anything.”

Sylus grins at the sarcasm dripping from your tone, and decides to indulge you.

“Hmm, you really want to know? Well, here's another one... Your taste has changed, darling. A little sweeter, a little richer. Something I can't seem to get enough of, but it also seems to have gotten stronger lately.”

You blanch, warmth flushing your cheeks.

“You mean... whenever you eat me out... you noticed my taste? That's...”

Your speechlessness amuses him, and he chuckles, voice growing deeper, laced with hunger and heat.

“I notice everything about you, remember? Even the smallest changes in your body,” he drawls, glancing at the spot between your thighs. “Especially when it comes to the places I spend the most time on, tasting and exploring... Every. Single. Time.”

He punctuates his words with soft kisses to your neck, flustering you even more.

All you can mutter is a cute, little, “Hmph,” scowling and fanning your cheeks.

Sylus adores your reaction to his words, and leans in, his lips brushing against your neck, teasing your skin.

“Mhm... why are you scowling at me? Are you embarrassed? Are you... thinking about all the times I've tasted and explored you, doll? I can practically see the memories playing in your head… it's delicious.”

You squeak, slapping a palm to his mouth, feeling like your face is hot enough to explode.

“Sylus!”

He laughs, though the sound is muffled against your palm. His hand drifts down to your belly again, the gleam in his eyes possessive this time.

The white-haired devil pries your hand from his mouth, kissing your wrist and placing it back down onto the bed. “Oh, doll. You're just too cute when you're flustered. And it's even cuter when you try to shut me up. It just makes me want to tease you more, Y/N.”

Emboldened and somewhat foolish, you plaster on your faux confidence, egging him on.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I think you’re dead wrong.”

Sylus snorts, finding your foolish certainty endearing.

“Are you doubting my observation skills? Are you saying I haven't noticed a thing? That I'm not paying attention to the little changes in your body… that I haven't noticed how you're reacting?”

You smirk, nodding.

“Mhm hmm. I know my body better than you, Sy. You may be my husband, but I��ve been living in this meat suit for years. And I’ll know when I’m pregnant. Besides—” you giggle, enjoying the look of faint amusement spreading across his features. “—I bet you a hundred dollars that if I take a test right now, it’ll come back negative.”

Sylus cocks a brow, eyes glistening with the challenge.

You continue, oblivious to his smirk. “My period is due in a week, and I don’t have morning sickness, nor do I have any cravings. Besides, weren’t you the one who said we have to plan our family smarter? Why do you want to be right so badly?”

Your husband chuckles, enjoying your bold confidence. His grip on your hip tightens, and he kneads the flesh, shrugging.

“You’re so endlessly fascinating, doll. Yes, I do think we should space out conception times, but I never did say I wouldn't want more babies. Especially when they are living proof of our commitment and love for each other.”

Oh. You swallow hard. When he puts it that way…

But, you’re much too thick headed to give in.

You cup his cheek, gaze softening, though the spark of a challenge remains in your eyes.

“Fine. We’ll see who’s right tomorrow.”

Sylus grabs your hand, enjoying the warmth of your skin with a touch of feral amusement in his crimson eyes. “And if I’m right? What is my reward, doll?”

Grinning, you tease, “A hundred dollars.”

Your husband tilts his head to the side, as if considering your strange wager.

“... make that a hundred kisses and a dinner, doll. I don’t want your money.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. A hundred kisses and a dinner—that’s easy for you.

“Fine. We’ll see that I’m right tomorrow, then.”

Night fades and the next day dawns.

You wake up to an empty bed, sheets rumpled and still warm. Your eyes land upon an innocuous pregnancy kit on the side table, fresh from the store.

Sylus is nowhere to be seen, though you suspect he’s downstairs in the kitchen sipping on a cup of coffee. Not wanting to look like you were chickening out of this bet, you huff and go straight into the bathroom, putting the test to use.

You’re going to win this bet, and Sylus will have to eat his words. There is no way your husband would be correct. All he has is a hunch while you know your body inside and out.

No singular person in the world, not even the one you share a bed with every night, can claim to predict something as mercurial and unpredictable as a pregnancy which hasn’t happened yet—unless they were a prophet or someone from the world of Dune, you think with a scoff.

The timer goes off and you grasp the test, about to smirk and prance downstairs to show Sylus how far off his observation was, when you come to a hard pause.

“...”

You blink, checking the test and rechecking it again. You look at it closer to the light, scrutinizing the stupid white stick from front to back, wondering if it’s faulty or broken.

A languid knock on the door interrupts your thoughts, and you look up to find your husband leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on his face.

“Go ahead, doll,” he gloats, noticing your reaction, the pallor of shock written all over your face. “Read the result out loud to me.”

You swallow hard, setting the test down in defeat.

“Impossible.”

But, knowing how competitive your husband can be, he’s not going down without a fight.

“And the result is…?”

Tossing him a scowl, you throw your hands up in the air, caving in so he can pipe down and just kiss you already.

“Positive,” you groan, wrapping your arms around him. Sylus responds without a shred of hesitation, grasping your smaller body and holding it tightly to his, secretly elated at this reveal. The ghost of his chuckle brushes your neck.

“Yeah, doll? Say it again. Tell me I’m right.”

You exhale a watery giggle, tears filling your eyes. The feeling of pure love fills your chest, and you look at him like he’s hung the moon up in your sky.

You’re going to be a mommy again; Sylus has made his promise come true.

Touching your forehead to his, you breathe in his comforting scent, feeling the softness of his sleeping robe underneath your palms on his chest.

“You’re right, darling. You’re always right,” you whisper, the love you feel for your husband overflowing from your eyes. “It’s positive.”

Nothing ever escapes Sylus' hawk-like attention, and for that, you love him a little more than you did before.

sydawn lore: we have twins together—a baby girl and a baby boy named sabrina and protus. initially, the scans and tests only picked up sabrina and it was literally on the surgical table when the doctors made a discovery that there was another whole ass baby inside of me (they called it a shadow pregnancy when one twin completely overshadows another) so long story short, we have two babies together with a third on the way :,) ok thx for reading bye !

�� reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated !! thank you all for your support <3

#🦢 writes #sylus x reader #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x you #sylus fluff #sylus smut #sylus l&ds #love and deepspace sylus #tw pregnancy

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cameronwillow · 8 days ago

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Farm boy Cameron

Rafe Cameron x farmers daughter!reader blurb

As you’re in veterinary school, Rafe Cameron is forced to complete his public service here at the farm you work at. And he is well aware of your attraction to him.

This was requested by anonymous! I hope you enjoy!!

CW: Fingering! And my take on Farmers daughter but please check out my lovelies, @bloodibambiidoll and @rafesangelita who have great fics with farmers daughter with Rafe!!!

It was obscene. The way you were practically drooling over the rich guy, Rafe Cameron as you walked back from the barn. Being here as you were in veterinary school had its benefits and even more so as Rafe spent his probation here versus jail.

Of course you had a crush on the bad boy, the guy who had a public reputation as an asshole. A Kook as you were a middle class girl working as you went to college. Your dad was a long time employee, worked his way to the boss of the area as you were paid here. It was your honest mistake, you never ever saw any cute guys during your routine. And now, Rafe was here most of the day everyday.

He caught you staring, his lips curving into an arrogant smile. He knew he was attractive. Messy blonde hair from working, white sleeveless shirt showing his muscles as he heaved heavy hay. It made your mouth water as he grunted from the effort. You were pressed against a wall, hidden away in a corner in one of the bigger barns, taking a break when you felt someone behind you. You started to turn but a strong hand stopped you.

“Oh no, you haven’t earned that yet. You don’t get to look at me, baby.” It was Rafe’s voice, his other hand cupped your hip. Squeezing the flesh and you were pinned.

“What would your dad think? Staring a bad man like me, hmm?” He muttered against your ear, the palm holding your shoulder slipping underneath your overalls. He kneaded your tit, traveling down your stomach and snapped the band of your panties.

“I bet that little pussy is dripping. Let’s see,” He nipped your neck and let his fingers swirl against your cunt. “Oh, god you are.” Rafe clicked his tongue and pressed an open mouth kiss to your jaw. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that, baby doll. Just keep it quiet, yeah? Don’t want daddy to hear.”

Rafe circled your clit, pushing the folds together and you arched your back into him. His thick fingers coated your pussy with arousal and then he kneed apart your legs.

“Keep them open, little princess. I’m gonna make sure to hit that spot you can’t.” Rafe then pushed his two digits knuckle deep and you let out a whimper. He curled them and you had to bite down on your lip hard to keep from moaning too loud.

“Aww, I know. I know it feels good, Angel. I can’t wait to have you squeezing my cock but in the meantime…” you felt his dick against your ass as he pressed the heel of his palm against your clit, rubbing it as he pumped inside of you.

“Fuck, Rafe.” You wheezed and let out a little squeak as he focused his mouth on your shoulder, sucking softly and tracing it with his tongue.

“You’re squeezing my fingers, princess. Yeah, you needed this. Needed a real man to spoil this little pussy.” Rafe groaned softly as you let out pants and quiet sounds of pleasure.

Your cum coated his hand and you chased it. Riding his hand and you squeezed your eyes shut. Rafe chuckled darkly and pulled out his fingers, shoving them into your mouth.

“Suck it clean. Can’t have daddy knowing how much of a slut his daughter is yet.”

Your lips were around the same fingers that made you cum, you rolled your tongue around them and he hummed in satisfaction.

“Yeah? You giving me a preview of what you’re gonna do to my dick, princess? Meet me here tomorrow night.”

Dividers by @rafesheaven

@bloodibambiidoll @cxrrodedcoffin @sturnioloshacker @starkeysbabygirl @rafeyscurtainbangs @evansroses @that-sarcastic-writer @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab @cameronsprincess @eddiesxangel @xxladymjxx @hornyxdreams @stillwjk-channie-lixie

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 2 months ago

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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 16

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15

Aside from bathroom breaks, Eddie doesn’t leave his room for two days. Friday bleeds into Saturday, bleeds into Sunday, and Eddie wallows in it. Wayne knows him well enough to not bother him, but Wayne also knows him well enough to barge into Eddie’s room Sunday morning without even knocking.

“Up, boy,” he says gruffly, turning Eddie’s overhead light on. “Your eggs are getting cold.”

Eddie groans, and tries to roll over to bury his face back into his pillow, but Wayne grabs him by the ankle and yanks until he goes tumbling out of the bed.

“Wayne!”

“I ain’t asking,” Wayne says, storming out of Eddie’s room without closing the door.

As is his right, Eddie whines and rolls around on his floor for a minute until he can finally find the will to get up. Clearly knowing that it would take Eddie a minute, Wayne’s just plating eggs and potatoes as Eddie walks into the kitchen, still clothed in only his boxers and the same shirt he’d been wearing when Carver’d kicked his ass on Thursday.

They settle across from each other at their dingy table, Wayne letting him get a few bites of breakfast in him before the interrogation he knows is coming begins.

“What happened?” Wayne asks, pushing his own plate away so he can focus on staring Eddie down.

Eddie swallows his bite of potatoes, throat suddenly dry. But, he wants to tell someone, he wants to tell Wayne, who, no matter how Eddie fucks up, is always in his corner.

“I’ve been getting these letters,” Eddie starts, using his fork to play with his food so he doesn’t have to meet his Uncle’s eyes as the whole sordid tale comes out.

He tells it like he experienced it: thinking it was a joke at first before getting wrapped up in the letters, finding out it was Chrissy, trying to connect the living, breathing girl to the words on the page.

And then, Harrington, strong and sure as he defended him from Carver, taking care of his wounds in the aftermath, lying to him for months until he couldn't get away with it anymore.

Wayne just listens without interruption while Eddie talks about Jeff’s betrayal, the fear in Chrissy’s eyes, the defeated slope of Harrington’s back as he’d walked out the door, going god knows where with his car still at the quarry where he’d left it.

When Eddie’s finally done, Wayne hums and pulls his now-cold food back in front of him, picks up his fork and starts to eat. Eddie watches him, gobsmacked.

“Wayne?” Eddie asks, moving his hand up and down in front of his Uncle’s eyes, checking to see if the old man can even still see him. “That’s all you’re going to say? Hmm, and then back to breakfast?”

Eddie scowls as he forks another potato into his mouth, chewing as he continues his tirade. “Where are your wise words, old man? Why the hell’d you even make me get up if this is all I was going to get?”

Wayne hums again, clearly just to piss Eddie off, then finally answers, “you needed to eat.”

Eddie stares at him, mouth hanging open half-masticated potatoes on full display for anyone to see. Not that anyone’s going to because Wayne’s gone back to polishing off his breakfast.

“That’s it?” Eddie demands, throwing his fork down in a huff.

Wayne sighs, like Eddie’s the one being unreasonable here and finally puts his fork down to meet his nephew’s eyes.

“Finish your breakfast, and we can talk.”

Eddie whines, but dutifully scarfs down his plate, never breaking eye contact with his uncle, like they’re in a stand-off. And in a way, they are.

Once done, Eddie tosses his fork across the room into the sink just to prove a point, leans across the table and glares at Wayne. Because he’s an asshole, Wayne takes another sip of his coffee, maintaining eye contact, before finally opening his mouth to speak.

“You like this boy?” Wayne asks.

Eddie sputters and stalls out. “You—I—what?” Eddie asks, fisting his hands into his greasy hair.

“It ain’t an unreasonable question,” he replies. “You’re talking about the kid like he’s a knight in one of those little games you like so much.”

“I—no I wasn’t!” Eddie cries, cheeks burning at the implication.

“Mmmhmm,” Wayne replies, eyebrow raised as he drinks more of his coffee like what he’s saying is of no importance at all.

“Wayne,” Eddie says, leaning over the table to clutch at his shoulders, ribs protesting at the pull. “I’m not gay.”

And that, out of everything, is what gets Wayne to put his mug back down and take Eddie seriously. “You ain’t?” Wayne asks, eyebrow raised. Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide. “You sure? There’s an awful lot of men in leather on your walls.”

Eddie squawks, sinking painfully back into his seat. “That’s Metallica.”

Wayne squints at him. “Is that one of them code words y’all use to stay safe?”

Eddie stands up, chair screeching against the linoleum floor. “It’s a band, Wayne!” Eddie cries, at a loss for what the fuck is happening. “I’m not gay!”

Wayne looks up at him, both eyebrows raised enough to scrunch up his forehead, wrinkling his mostly-bald head. “Well, alright then.”

Eddie stares at him, brain buzzing with even more questions than he’d had before. How long had Wayne thought he was gay? Why? What did he do?

Was he really okay with it?

Eddie turns on his heel and marches out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom without another word. He slams the door and collapses onto his bed, gut squirming with all the thoughts churning in his head.

***

Chrissy isn’t surprised when Eddie doesn’t come to school on Monday; she is surprised when Steve does. He’s got bags under his eyes and Robin Buckley super-glued to his side, but he’s still there.

She can’t help the way she runs into his arms, leaving Jeff behind without thought. Steve catches her—he always does, pushing his hands beneath his letterman jacket to grab at her waist and pull her in. They sway there in the middle of the hallway, all their classmates jeering around them.

Chrissy doesn’t care; she’s spent the entire weekend thinking about the crushed look in his eyes as he walked out of the Munson trailer without a backwards glance

“You’re okay?” she asks, face pressed into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

He runs his hand up and down her back as he responds, “I will be.”

She pulls back to smile up at him and reaches up to brush a floppier-than-usual lock of hair behind his ear. “Walk me to class?”

He links their elbows, and does just that, Jeff and Robin falling into line behind them, Robin prattling on about some movie marathon her and Steve had had at her house over the weekend.

Chrissy’s just glad he wasn’t alone.

Steve sighs, shoulders slumping as he says, “I’m sorry, Chris,” he says, not looking her way. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess.”

She stops abruptly enough that Robin stumbles into them and bounces back, cutting off her stream of words mid-babble to squawk at them. Chrissy doesn’t acknowledge her, too busy standing on her tippy toes so she can grab Steve’s shoulders and yank him down to her level.

“You listen to me, Steve Harrington,” she demands, looking into his big, bewildered eyes. “Your mess is my mess, okay?”

He’s still just staring at her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, so she digs her nails in hard and says, “forever,” with as much finality as she can muster.

He keeps staring at her, looking like he’s about ready to burst into tears in the middle of the hallway. Finally, he says, “come over tonight?” more a demand than a question.

She drops her grip on him and nods, content.

Chrissy doesn’t ask questions when Steve leads her over to Robin in the cafeteria. It’s easy to take that last, final step into social suicide with him at her side.

They fall into their usual routine that night—they watch trashy TV neither would admit to liking to another living soul, and paint each other’s nails.

The lack of letter writing sits like a dead body between them.

“He won’t tell anyone,” Chrissy says, tightening her grip on his hand when he jerks. Chrissy keeps carefully painting his nails, her favorite pink, not looking up at his face. The color suits him—it’s not fair, but everything does. “He promised.”

Steve doesn’t ask for clarification, they both know who she’s talking about. “You believe him?”

She thinks about that torn, guilty look on Eddie’s face and replies, “I do.”

She finishes his pinkie and settles his hand down on her own knee to dry, knowing from previous experience that if she gives it back, he’ll ruin all her work running his hand through his hair.

“That’s good,” he mutters, looking down at his own hand, tilted so far forward that even when she looks up, his hair’s flopped too far into his face to see his eyes. “It still hurts.”

Chrissy sighs. She’d seen this coming all those months ago when she’d helped pen the first letter. Had seen the writing on the wall like it was she herself that was writing it. But, she’d helped him anyway, hoping to salvage his safety, if not his dignity.

She can only hope she has.

“I know,” she replies, biting her lip against apologies he won’t accept. “But, we’re in this together, okay?”

Steve’s fingers twitch on her leg, but he doesn’t pull away. “Even with you and Jeff?”

“You figured that out, huh?” she asks, and that’s what finally gets him to look up at her with a raised brow, making her laugh.

“I mean, you told me you were going to ask him out,” he starts, before leering over at her. “And you two aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Tell that to Eddie,” she replies, wanting to swallow the name back down once it comes out of her mouth, but it’s too late—it’s already been said.

Steve smiles wryly as he says, “well, he’s not exactly the most observant, is he?”

He has her there. Steve himself, no matter how hard he tried, wasn’t subtle with his affections: the compliments, the stuttering over his words, the blushing. But none of it had done more than make Eddie give Steve suspicious looks, like there was some sort of game he wasn’t in on.

There was, but even without knowing he was playing, he’d still beaten Steve.

“No, he’s really not.”

Steve hums, picking up his hand to check if it’s dry before moving onto painting her nails. He picks his favorite yellow for her, even though he knows it washes her out. She holds out her hand and doesn’t complain.

“I really like him,” Steve says, quietly enough that it’s barely audible over the murmur of voices coming from the TV.

“I know,” she whispers, watching the flickering sadness on his face by the illumination of the Harrington’s big television screen. “I love you. You know that, right?”

He pauses in painting her nails to meet her eyes, smiling for real now. “I know,” he says, stroking the skin on her wrist with the free fingers not holding the nail polish applicator. “And you know what? This was all worth it if I got you out of it.”

And then he just goes back to painting her nails like that wasn’t the most romantic thing anyone has ever said. Eddie Munson can fuck himself; Chrissy’s going to be buried in Steve’s letterman jacket and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

***

Eddie doesn’t go to school on Monday. He’s too busy rereading the secret admirer notes—the notes Steve Harrington left him—like if he reads them in the right order, it’ll all snap together in his brain in a way that makes fucking sense.

And it does, sort of. It’s like sorting out a bunch of puzzle pieces after finally knowing what the shape of the puzzle even is. Some parts of the letters just jump out of the page, the longer he looks. In the end, he processes this the way he processes everything: he makes a list.

Proof that Steve Harrington is my Secret Admirer:

1. I’m not trying to bully you.

2. I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you.

3. I know you don’t like them, but I like sports.

4. My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors.

5. But my eyes? They’re brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours.

6. I tried playing the piano again, and I’m a little rusty.

7. Do you hate all of them, or just the bullies?

8. You laughed, but it wasn’t your real laugh like when Mr. Danver accidentally said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’.

A jock afraid of Eddie labeling them as a bully? Check. Favorite color, the same one Steve Harrington had painted his nails all those weeks ago? Check. Rich enough to have a piano that’s just not played? Check. But the most damning part of all: Chrissy was never in Mr. Danver’s class with him last year, but Harrington was. And Chrissy? Her eyes are bright, translucent blue.

The longer he looks at those two incriminating bits of evidence, the stupider he feels. It was never her, and from the looks of it, they hadn’t put much effort into pretending it was. It was always Harrington from that first, forever-lost letter that they’d stuffed in his locker.

And the longer he pours over the letters, the less he can picture Chrissy sprawled on her bed, writing each letter with a shy flourish before spraying it with a puff of her favored scent. No. It’s Harrington, frowning down at the page because words have never come easy to him; it’s Harrington sleeping with Eddie’s letter placed gently beneath his pillow; it’s Harrington who’d made Eddie smile like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

And now that he thinks about it, wasn’t it Harrington whose eye he kept catching from across the cafeteria? Harrington who’d stutter over his words around Eddie, but still told him he was a good storyteller?

Harrington who wanted to go to his show. Chrissy hadn’t even remembered Corroded Coffin’s name.

Harrington had–of course he had.

And he can picture that, too now. Harrington in the crowd in his stupid polo with his bright yellow nail polish, sticking out like a sore thumb in the gruff crowd at the Hideout, beautiful brown eyes trained solely on Eddie.

He can still feel the way his pulse had ratcheted up when they were in the bathroom, Harrington between his spread thighs, palms warm against his tender ribs, sucking all the oxygen out of Eddie’s lungs with how close he was.

It’s too much.

“Hello?” Jeff’s mom sounds curt over the phone, already fed up with Eddie calling before he’s even said anything. Eddie doesn’t care; he can’t when he needs Jeff this badly.

“Can I talk to Jeff?” he cries out, hand shaking around the receiver as he listens to her grumble, but she still shouts for her son to come pick up the goddamn phone.

“Hello?”

Eddie should wait until he’s sure Jeff’s mom is no longer in hearing vicinity, but he can’t, too wound up tight to keep from blurting out, “am I gay?”

There’s a moment of silence that Eddie can barely breathe through before Jeff says, “uhh, Eddie?” in such a bewildered voice that Eddie sort of wants to punch him.

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” he says, words spilling out over each other. “And I’m sorry about what I said, and you’re sorry that you kept secrets from me—we can do that later, Jeff!”

“Uh, oka—”

“Now, am I gay?” he’s panting by the time he’s done, not having taken a single breath during his tirade. He’s waiting for Jeff’s confirmation or denial, but all that comes down the line is his quiet breathing. “Jeff?”

“Uh, shit, we’re doing this? Okay.” Eddie can almost picture the fed-up palm Jeff’s rubbing against his face, as if it’s somehow Eddie’s fault that Jeff is taking so long explaining the squirmy nebulous feeling in Eddie’s gut. “I don’t know man, why do you think you’re gay?”

Then, Eddie does what he should have done all along, and spills everything to Jeff, from the first letter all the way up to Steve Harrington’s bitchy little speech in the quarry as he put himself bodily between Eddie and Jason Carver.

“—and then he kneeled between my knees like that’s a normal, straight guy thing to do and just like, put his hands in my shirt!” Eddie whines, long since having settled onto the cold linoleum of his kitchen floor. “I mean, what the hell?”

“I think you’re forgetting one important fact, dude: Steve’s not straight.”

“Which brings me back to my question!” Eddie replies, trying for breezy and landing on whiny. “Am I gay?”

Jeff hums down the line like he’s really thinking about it this time. “Well, when he was touching you,” he starts, like that already doesn’t have Eddie’s face flaming, “what did you feel?”

Eddie puts himself back into that moment, thighs splayed pressed open by the heavy weight of Harrington’s body, Harrington’s big, warm hands running over his skin, his worried golden brown eyes roving over Eddie’s face.

“I felt like I was on fire,” Eddie whispers, feeling that same heat now pooling lower in his gut.

“…in a good way?” Jeff asks.

Eddie’s brain goes static, full of too much to differentiate good from bad, if that’s a distinction that ever existed at all. Eddie makes a questioning noise in his throat, knees twitching restlessly where they’re crossed in front of him.

“Okay, okay, uhh—hmm,” Jeff hums across the line. “Did you want to move closer or away?”

Eddie closes his eyes and thinks, imagining that trapped, warm, overwhelming feeling of being caged in by Harrington’s body. “Both?”

Jeff hmms again, clearly trying to think it through. Eddie can’t blame him—this is the most confused he’s been in his entire life, and Jeff doesn’t even have an all-access pass to his brain to try to pick answers out of–not that it’s currently doing Eddie much good.

“Do you want to try kissing a guy?” Jeff asks. “I’d do it, if it was for you, dude.”

Eddie’s nose wrinkles, lips puckering in disgust, “ew, you’re like my brother.”

Jeff laughs at him and replies, “so you don’t want to, not because I’m a guy, but because we’re like brothers? Sounds pretty gay, dude.”

“Oh.”

Jeff doesn’t say anything; he’s always been good at sensing when Eddie just needs a minute to think. But this time, he doesn’t think a minute will cut it, so he continues with a, “hey Jeff?”

“Hmm?”

“I really did mean it, you know.” He squeezes the phone tighter against the side of his face, like that will help his sincerity ring down the line. “I am sorry, and we should talk about it, but I can’t yet.”

Jeff still doesn’t reply, but his breathing is steady and sure down the line, settling Eddie’s anxious heart down to a little flutter.

“Is that okay?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, dude,” Jeff replies gruffly. “So, you’ll still call me?”

Eddie smiles. He’s missed Jeff, is the thing. They’ve been so distant lately, and no matter how well Eddie and Gareth get along, he’s no Jeff. “Or accost you at school, whichever comes first.”

That makes Jeff laugh; Eddie lets the sound warm him. “Okay, but I’m serious about the kissing thing!” Jeff replies, “Come over and I can plant one right on y—”

Eddie hangs up on his friend, feeling more himself than he has in days. No matter what happens, he has Jeff.

PART 17

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #steddie #my fic #jeff is the real mvp here putting up with all of eddie's issues #well. him and wayne

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seungfl0wer · 3 months ago

Text

*𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑨 𝑻𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆*

Pairing: Minho x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Vampire!Minho, Biting, Slight Spanking, Slight pussy smack, Possessive Minho, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Alcohol and cheating mentions. Sorry for any mistakes or forgotten tags

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this. I’ve never rewrote something so much. I really hope it’s alright I would appreciate any feedback on this one fr🥲

Find The Halloween Master List Here

-🎃

You watched as the trees passed seeing the familiar places you knew as a kid. You can’t believe you’re back here but under the circumstances you needed the familiarity. A 5 year relationship down the drain. You both were to be getting married next month but turns out love really does blind you. You let out a sigh as you pulled into your old home. Your parents left it for you after they moved to their dream home down the road. They were so excited to have you move back and so were your friends however everything was just so surreal.

You’ve been in a deep slump the last few weeks wondering round your house like a zombie. You worked on little things around the house when packing was all done. “Hmm I bet I could make the pathway look really good with some flowers” you said to yourself as you looked out onto the porch. As you wondered the shop, you couldn’t help but feel a bit at ease. It was so quiet and smelled so sweet. The arrangements that had been made splayed so nicely everywhere. You walked down the isles just basking in the prettiness of everything and that’s when he first noticed you.

Minho almost does a double take when he first sees you. You were stunning, but the smell of your soul was almost sour? Why? He looked at you, studding you like prey. You looked happy, why were you giving off such sadness? He watched you for a bit before you headed to the counter with a few plants. You smiled and waved at the man behind the counter before leaving with your stash. Minho walked over “so, do you know her?” He asked looking back outside as you got into your car. He nods “yeah why? You fancy her?” The man behind the counter says with a chuckle. Minho rolls his eyes “would you shut up and tell me who she is?” He asks.

The man laughs a bit more “hmm maybe if you can say please I will” he says with a smirk. “I hate you old man” Minho groans but the man’s not budging “uugh fine, fine please?” Minho says with the fakest smile possible. “Her names y/n, she lived here when she was younger and then moved away when she an adult. I hear she’s back because she caught her fiance cheating.” He gossiped.

“That explains the sourness to her scent” Minho said softly. “Yeah she’s been through a lot or so I hear. So if you’re gonna try and talk to her, you better not be an asshole” he said with a chuckle. He rolls his eyes again “I’m always pleasant” he says rolling his eyes once more. “Yeah yeah whatever, you still coming to the bar tonight or what?” The man asks. “Yeah, I’ll be there” he said taking a walk outside to gather some of his thoughts.

After doing some yard work and cooking dinner you laid in bed. You curled up as you let your body relax in the comfort. As you slept your window creeped open a figure leaning in looking around. He stumbled in trying not to disturb you “why must you riddle my mind?” He says softly. He looked over your sleeping figure wanting to touch your body. He breathed out trying to collect himself, his mind racing as he stared down at you. He had drank enough to kill a man but nothing could erase the way you floated through your mind.

He never entertained romantic feelings, rather being alone or having a casual hook up. He couldn’t remember the last time in the many years he’s been alive that he felt any sort of want for another person. It was like that for friends as well though, never making friends with others. Not really caring to bother to find bonds. He of course had his small group he’s been with for a millennia but anyone else was always brushed off. Why were you different? Why did you intrigue him so much? He couldn’t figure it out but it was driving him mad.

He watched as your body moved up in down with every breath. He wanted to kiss you wanted to bite you to taste everything of you. He could hear your blood moving through your veins the smell of it smelled sweet almost. He groaned at the thought of just pricking you a bit just to have a tiny taste. He knew though if he started he wouldn’t be able to stop. He watched you sleep for a while before he heard the birds chirp. “Fuck- it’s already morning.” He said before walking to the window. He knew he had to have you soon because you were driving him crazy.

——

As the days passed so did the time Minho spent watching you. He watched you through out your day and watched you at night. He felt like a stalker but he just wanted to know everything about you he was so enamored by you.

On todays faithful night you were persuaded to go out with your friends them wanting to get you out of your coop. As you drank you started to feel a bit loser. Your friends brought you up to the floor to dance grinding on each other as you drank. Minho found himself watching you from the side, he didn’t expect to see you here. He thought you’d be at home sleeping like always. His eyes were glued to you as he watched your body. “You should make your move tonight” his friend said patting him on the back with a smile. Minho rolled his eyes but he thought about it as he watched you.

Minho turned to go to the bathroom and as he came out he stopped dead in his track. He watched as a man slinked his way in front of you “hey gorgeous, wanna dance?” The man said before you could answer he was pulling you towards him hands gripping at your hips. You didn’t know how to react the alcohol swirling in your mind. You leaned into the man before you knew it he was kissing you. His tongue slipping into yours as his hands roamed your body. Minho could only stand there and watch his ‘blood’ bowling at the sight.

Your friends pulled you from the guy not before he gave you his number. Your friends teased you the whole time as they drove you home. You made your way to your bed slumping into it with a giggle. You quickly fell asleep due to the alcohol. In the middle of the night like clock work Minho found himself in your room this time though on a mission. He slinked his way onto your bed before he pealed the covers off of you. He saw you only in your panties making him groan. He couldn’t stop himself this time he leaned in taking in all your scent before licking at your clothed core.

Your body moved a little but you didn’t wake. He moved your panties to the side before finally making contact with your heat. Long licks up your folds before quickly sucking at your clit. You moaned out eyes fluttering awake. You looked down seeing a man between your legs before you could push him away he pushed his fingers into you. He curled them inside you moving them at a fast pace as his tongue lapped at your clit. He started to suck harshly at your clit biting it softly as he saw you waking.

He quickened his pace adding another finger to your sopping cunt. He felt you clenching around him knowing you were close. He took his free hand pushing down on your lower stomach to make you feel him even more. He bit at your clit as he moved his hands watching your eyes roll back. You were moaning grabbing at his hair as your legs started to tighten around his head. The squeeze tightened as your orgasm came over you. Your legs shaking around his head as he kept going as he worked you through your high.

“Y/n you think that man at the bar could please you like I can?” He said his eyes red at the thought. He pushed his pants down quickly rubbing himself up and down your dripping folds before lending a string of spit coming down to his cock head. “Gonna show you the only cock you’ll ever need.” He spat before pushing into you. Your mind was gone, completely blank from all the pleasure. He started to fuck you at a fast pace, slapping your bass as he did so. He had your thighs pressed to your chest as he pounded into you.

His hand come up to grip at your face making you look at him. “I want you to look at me. Look at me as I fuck this perfect pussy” he growls out. Your eyes met his as you felt your heart pound. God was he hot, his facial features were beautiful almost non human like. His hand left your face coming down only with your clit. “Please!” You whined out not knowing what you were begging for only to get a smack to your clit. “You’ll get what I give you, understand?” He growled again. He moved his head down nipping at your neck.

“You think that guy could make you cum like this? Make you feel so good? Only I can. Only me.” He said his movements becoming harsh his cock kissing your cervix bullying your entrance as he bottoms out. “Fuck y/n I’ve waited so long for this. Why’d you have to make it- make it like this” he groaned out. “I wanted our first time to be loving” he said before leaning back to look at you. Your eyes pricked with tears hands digging into his back. “M’sorry.” You said softly making him slow his pace. The fact you were apologizing, made his body stutter. You technically didn’t know him, didn’t know anything he was really talking about. However you still apologized. “Y/n- y/n I love you” he blurted out seeing your eyes softening at him.

“I- but why- you don’t know me?” You said softly looking up at him. His movements have all but stopped as he stared down at you. “I do- I know a lot about you. I wanna show you what these dumb guys can’t. I wanna show you real love. How you should be treated.” He said before leaning down to kiss you. The kiss was loving sensual as he started to move his hips again this time a bit slower but super deep. He wrapped your legs around him pulling your body close to his. When he pulled away seeing you smile shyly up at him “y/n let me show you the love you deserve yeah?” He said smiling at you.

You nodded “I don’t got much to lose” you said softly making him chuckle a bit. He started to fuck into you more, more lovingly. He was focused on making you cum again, he wanted you to feel how he felt. Like pure bliss. He kissed you again pushing his tongue into your mouth. “H-hey” you said softly pulling away from the kiss. “Shouldn’t I know- know your name?” You said with a little smile. “I’m yours, but you can call me Minho” he joked making you both giggle. This was the kinda love making people dreamed of, being able to joke around and feel so comfortable with one another.

He started to play with your clit again his movements were becoming a bit sloppy but he needed to make you cum first. He leaned down towards your neck kissing it softly. “You’re gonna feel a pinch ok?” He warned you before sinking his teeth into you. The small bit of pain being replaced by pleasure. As all the thoughts and memories he had of you flooding into you. Seeing and feeling how he felt about you made your body quiver. In the matter of seconds everything flowed into you, he showed you everything about him. Showing you what he was but more importantly what he wanted to be with you. It was just pure love, nothing more pure.

You felt your orgasms wash over you before even realizing it. Your body clenching around him sucking him in. He pushed into you one last time before cumming deep inside of you. He pulled his fangs from you licking the wound making it heal over. Both of your body’s felt weak as you both clung to one another. “Y/n I’m sorry for flooding your mind with everything.” He said softly against your ear. You shook your head “no- don’t be I’m happy you did. It showed me how you really felt.” You said breathily.

“You really wanna be mine?” He asked again. You nodded quickly making him smile.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” He asked nervously.

“No. I’m fine. Just” you breathed “tired”

“Wanna go take a bath and we can sleep?” He offered. He was confused when you shook your head.

“Can.. can we go again? I wanna see how you were before” you said with a devilish smile.

He met your smile with one of his own “I should know you’d be a little freak.” He chuckled. “My little freak though, and what my baby wants she gets” he said before kissing you one last time.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

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

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

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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

Text

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.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader

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nofingjustaninchident · 9 months ago

Text

just a little drunk - hoo boys

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: percy jackson, leo valdez, jason grace and frank zhang x drunk!reader, best friends to lovers

warnings: mortal!au, alcohol consumption, dirty jokes, weed consumption, probably cursing.

a/n: i just discovered that i have a massive problem with writing. i literally took half an hour (at least) to write EACH one of those. terrible. just terrible. but i swear im trying to write more, it’s just cause i don’t have much creativity to write 😭

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

now playing… party in the USA - miley cyrus

Percy Jackson

He was at the party. Of course he was at the party. Everyone says a party without Percy Jackson is not a party. But he was the DD of the night, so he was completely sober - which was a hard task for the party king.

That, until he saw you. On top of a table. Striping down- wait. Striping down?! Jesus Christ, he left you alone for five minutes- oh, you’re taking your shirt off.

Of course there’s a bunch of assholes standing there, telling you to keep going and screaming obscenities at you. But Percy didn’t have the time to be mad right now, he was too focused on you.

If he got there one second late, he and everyone else in that room would see the black lacy bra you was wearing, but thank goodness he got there before you did it.

“Alright, that’s enough for today, isn’t it, sweetheart?” He said, hugging you from behind and taking a very giggly you off the table. All the boys in the room started ‘booh’ing him, and he just flipped him the finger.

“Perce! I was having funnn!!” You complained, your words sloppy and smudgy as he basically dragged you back to his SUV. He just rolled his eyes and chuckled slightly.

“Y/n/n, you were about to strip in front of a lot of people. I’m sure you’d kill me tomorrow if i let that happen.” He said as he pushed you onto the car and pulled the seat down so you could lay against it.

“Hmm.. Yeah, i’d probably do that.” She said, the smile never leaving her face as she started mumbling random words.

He closed the door and walked towards the driver’s seat. He knew he couldn’t drive you back to his house now, since he had to wait for his friends, so he just turned the air conditioning on and pulled a blanket over you shoulders.

“Sleep for a little. I’ll take you to my home, hm? I’ll take care of you.” He said, taking the loose strands of hair off your face. You were just so pretty it was unbearable.

“Fine.. Thanks, Percy.” She said and drifted off to slumber.

After a few minutes of watching you sleep, he remembered that you’d hate to sleep with make up on, so he looked into the glove compartment and- aha! Of course you had left a few of your wet wipes there.

He started softly running the cloth against your face, cleaning it. When he was finally over, he kissed your nose slightly and smiled to himself, waiting for his friends so he could drive you home aswell.

Jason Grace

He was sleeping, as any normal person would at 2 am. But he was a light sleeper, and he woke up suddenly with his phone raining in his nightstand. He groaned and searched for both his glasses and the phone so he could see who was calling him so late in the night.

When he looked at the phone screen, he frowned in confusion. Why was Kayla calling him, out of nowhere? She usually didn’t call him, unless-

“Kayla?” He said as he picked up the phone, sitting in his bed and rubbing his eyes so he could try and forget the sleepiness that was threatening to win him over.

“Hey, Jason.. uh… i’m sorry for waking you up but, uh… i’m in a party with y/n-“ Y/n and parties? Never ever a good combination. “-And she doesn’t accept to go home unless it’s with you. She’s… drunk. Maybe high, too. Can you pick her up?”

Oh boy, he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to do that. “I’m on my way. Just… send me the address and i be there as soon as possible.”

“Fine- shut up, y/n! Stay here, no-“ And then the call was over.

My god, he thought, what’s she gotten herself into this time?

Kayla sent him the adress and he got into his car - a Lambo, gift from his absent father trying to make up for it - and got in the place the party was happening in less than ten minutes.

The first thing he noticed was the loud noise in the party. The second was you, laid down and making a snow angel in the grass. Funny sight.

“Y/n/n? My god, what in hell are you-“ He got cut off with you getting up and jumping on his arms, hugging him.

“Jase! I didn’t think you’d come!” You said, smiling brightly at your best friend. “Come on, let’s go to the party!”

You tried pulling his hand towards the house, but you weren’t already the strongest while sober, and drunk… e didn’t even flinch.

“No, honey, im taking you back to your house. You got enough drinking for today.” He said, pulling you by the waist towards him and placing you inside the car as you tried your hardest to get back to the party.

“As, come on! Buzzkill!” You whined, crossing your arms and pouting at him.

“Come on, i’ll buy you a slushee. What’d you think?” He asked. You immediately smiled. Drunk you was a very easily distracted person.

“Fine. But we’ll talk about that tomorrow.” He said, squeezing her shoulder softly as he drove towards the gas station.

“Whatever you say. Buzzkill.”

Leo Valdez

He was home watching a dumb tv show. He didn’t really bother with sleeping, since he knew his best friend was going to a party. And you plus party equals to a very drunk mess.

So when he finally got a call, he already knew it was you. It happens that he was right.

“Yes, cariño?” He asked, a smile plastered on his lips as soon as he heard your drunk giggles.

“Can you pick me up, fireboy?” You asked, your voice groggy and smudgy. But he knew it would probably be like that, so he was already expecting it.

“Course i can. Send me the address and i’m on my way.”

“Fine. Bye Valdeeezzzz..” You said before hanging up the phone with giggles and smiles.

He got where you were and you were being supported by one of your friends, who seemed pretty annoyed with the drunk version of you, all smiley and clingy to anyone around.

“Oh, thank god you’re here. I can’t stand her anymore.” Your friend said before basically dragging you towards the boy. “She’s all yours now.”

You were all smiles as you held Leo’s neck and pulled him close to you. “Leooooo! I missd’ ya!”

“Hey, cariño. You’re kinda drunk, aren’t you?” He asked before supporting your weight and taking you towards his car.

“What? Me? Nooo…” You said, giggling. You clearly smelled like pure alcohol.

“Sure you aren’t. Get in there, i’m taking you home.” He said, opening the passanger’s seat for you and placing you inside.

He put on your seat belt and kissed you forehead before walking towards the driver’s seat.

When he got inside the car, you were almost completely dozed off in sleep, trying your hardest to stay awake. He chuckled and turned the air conditioning on so you could rest more comfortably.

“Sleep, y/n/n. I’ll call you when we get home.” He said, the smile never leaving his lips.

Franz Zhang

He’s dead worried that you haven’t gotten home yet. Of course he didn’t knew where you were, cause you didn’t tell him.

Come on, you knew that, if you did tell him, he’d try to stop you.

So why bother?

You were having fun. A really, really good time. That was until your best friend came by with a weird cocktail, which was nothing more than a mix of different types of alcohol and syrup. Really fun.

And that’s when you got drunk and wobbly and you just had to call Frank. Common drunk mistake, isn’t it?

He picked up on the third ring.

“Y/n? My god, are you okay?” He asked, his voice laced with concern. He was so worried about you, cause you weren’t home and you didn’t pick up the phone and just called him out of the blue.

“Frankie!” You said and he could hear the smile in your voice. His concern only grew once he realized you were drunk.

“Y/n, where are you? I’m going to pick you up.” He said, already getting up with the car and house keys in his hand.

“I’m at Louis’ house! We’re having a birthday party!” You said, giggling and smiling brightly at absolutely nothing.

“Fine, i’ll… i’ll be there in ten. Just… don’t do anything stupid, and wait for me, outside the house. Don’t drink anything else and please, for the heavens sake, don’t do drugs.” He pleaded.

“I’m not- Frankie! I’m not on drugs. Please.” You said in a fake annoyed tone and giggled again. He rolled his eyes and sighed, driving towards where you were.

When he got there, he immediately saw you on the backyard, playing probably Pokémon Go and yelling when you finally found a pokémon. He smiled at the sight, and then remembered why he was there.

He walked towards you. When you finally saw him, you smiled widely and jumped in his direction, trying to hug his neck. Which wasn’t easy, as he was a little taller than you.

“Hey.” He said as he leaned down so you could hug him properly.

“Heyyy!!! I missed you!” You said, voice muffled by his shoulder. “Can you take me home? Please? I’m tired.” You said smiling cheekily.

“No.” He said, simply. “I’m taking you to my house today, kay? There’s some of your stuff there, and i can borrow you a shirt so you can sleep. But i’m not leaving you alone in this state.”

“Yay! Sleepover!” You cheered excitedly.

He couldn’t deny that the drunk version of you was very cute.

a/n pt2: did you see what i did there? i cut almost all of them in the middle. two reasons: one, for this not be too big and second i have inspiration to write more. lmk if u want a part 2 of those!!

#postcards from leah #jason grace #jason grace x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #frank zhang #frank zhang x reader #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 5 days ago

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Eddie pressed his face to the bars of the crib, watching his daughter sleep. Eddie sighed as he watched Elizabeth's chest rise and fall, her little hands curled into tiny fists. He started in amazement at her chubby little cheeks. . .the way her mouth moved. . .she was so beautiful. . .the moles that peppered her skin like she was made of stars.

"Eddie, babe, you have to get some sleep. . .we both do," Steve’s voice came from behind him.

"Sshh!" Eddie hissed.

"She's out like a light," Steve said. "We both know by now that it takes a lot to wake her up."

Steve knelt beside Eddie, placing an arm on his lower back.

"I don't want to miss a single moment," Eddie sighed.

"You have to Eddie, if you want to be a good parent," Steve said. "You have to take care of yourself, too."

Eddie sighed and pressed his face further into the bars.

"What the fuck, Steve? Who allowed us to do this? I'm going to break her, I know it. How did this happen?" Eddie asked.

"We got bit by interdimensional bats that gave us the ability," Steve said.

"It was supposed to be you who got pregnant," Eddie said.

"That's your fault. We could have waited to buy more condoms but you were sure that you wouldn't get pregnant after one time," Steve said, smirking.

"You could have talked me out if it," Eddie pointed out.

"You were being irresistible, couldn't be helped," Steve laughed quietly.

"I don't regret anything," Eddie said, flashing his dimples, and just like that, it was gone. "I miss her, Steve. She lived inside of me. . .safe and protected from the world. . .now anything could happen to her. I feel like I'm wearing my heart outside of my body. . .and it's overwhelming. . .you know?"

"Believe me, I know," Steve said. "I look at her and still can't believe she's part of us."

"There's no way," Eddie sobbed. "That something so beautiful could come from me."

"Believe it, Eddie, because you're beautiful, too," Steve said.

"I feel so crazy, Steve," Eddie said.

"Well, you just had a baby. You're allowed to be crazy," Steve said and paused. "Within reason."

"I'm going to stay here and watch over her forever," Eddie vowed.

Steve scoffed before wrapping his arms around him and picking him up.

"No, you're not," he said.

Steve sat down in the rocking chair and cradled Eddie in his arms. He began to rub and Eddie's back.

"This is for babies," Eddie muttered.

"If it works, it works," Steve said. "Now, let me take care of you, and you go to sleep. Okay. . .do it for both of us."

Eddie's eyes fluttered close as Steve continued rocking him.

"This is nice," he mumbled.

Steve smiled and pressed his cheek against Eddie's head as he felt Eddie start to relax. He sighed happily as Eddie drifted off to sleep completely, his mouth moving slightly like Elizabeth's. Steve was just about to fall asleep himself when Elizabeth sneezed. Eddie's eyes popped open.

"Was that a fucking sneeze?" Eddie said rather darkly. "What kind of sick fucking germ attacks a child while they're sleeping?"

"Normal ones. . .go to sleep," Steve said, trying to fight his amusement.

Eddie eventually fell asleep, nestled further against Steve. He picked Eddie up and started carrying him out of the room, glancing fondly at Elizabeth one last time. Steve brought him back to their room, laying him carefully on the bed. Steve crawled back into bed, and Eddie rolled over immediately, flopping onto his chest. Eddie sighed, his hand over Steve’s heart.

"I think I love her more than you," Eddie muttered sleepily.

"I definitely love her more than you," Steve chuckled.

"I got knocked up by the right man," Eddie said, his fingers tapping out a Metallica song against Steve’s skin.

"Oh, were there any other men lining up to get you pregnant?" He asked.

"Hmm, Argyle," Eddie cackled. "The offer is still on the table. Mmm, he does have better hair than you."

"Asshole," Steve said and tickled Eddie's side, causing him to giggle.

"We're supposed to be sleeping," Eddie scolded.

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie, holding him tightly and thanking the stars for the life they had together. . .that something good was able to come from all the horrors they endured.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie #bisexual steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson #bi as hell bi the way #stranger things ficlet #stranger things fanfiction #rueleigh writes #rueleigh's thoughts

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holybibly · 6 months ago

Text

Bunnies, are you ready?

These are the unholy thoughts of the day: hot cowboys with a lactation kink and a strong oral fixation who find it difficult to keep their hands to themselves when they meet a pretty busty waitress in a saloon who works part-time as a breastfeeding nanny during the day.

Your town wasn't big, but it was certainly a picturesque place to relax, so when rumours spread through the bustling streets and saloons about four damn good-looking cowboys from the big city, you didn't pay much attention. Cowboys often came to your town to take a break from the hustle and bustle. For you, they were just extra income as hot, horny things dropped fabulous amounts of money in your saloon to drink and entertain.

Especially as you've been so busy lately with your part-time job as a breastfeeding nanny that all you can think about is how much your breasts ache from all that milk and how much you want to milk yourself to relieve their heavy weight and plumpness.

When a noisy, chaotic crowd poured into your saloon this evening, it took your table, and you didn't expect much. Just another customer on another night, but God, how wrong you were, especially when the blue-haired cowboy, whose name you later learned was Hongjoong, wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you onto his lap, playfully running his fingers into your deep cleavage.

"Sweet lady, will you join us today, hm?" He purred in your ear, pulling down the hem of your blouse slightly, exposing your plump, milky tits even more to the gaze of his friends.

"I don't think so." You slapped his arm, freeing yourself from his grip. The cocky cowboy grinned, letting you go easily but not losing sight of the wet stains on your blouse, and the other guy at once commented that.

"Pretty lady, is breast-feeding? Or is there a milkshake on the menu?" His cat-like eyes narrow and focus on your cleavage as his tongue runs along his bottom lip, leaving a wet, glistening mark.

"Lord, San, don't be so shameless; you can't say such things." Another guy, with long hair and scarlet lips, rebuked him. And you were about to thank him, but his next sentence made you abandon that idea completely. "I wouldn't mind tasting that milk, though. I bet the taste is simply divine."

"Hmm..." The last guy sitting in the corner of the booth hummed. "Are you free, doll, or is someone already milking your pretty tits?"

"Assholes," you hissed, adjusting your corset. The tension of the fabric on your sensitive nipples only made you leak more milk. You sighed heavily, wanting to get away from the brazen, shameless cowboys whose eyes were now literally devouring you.

"Oh, don't be angry, beautiful." The blue-haired guy laughed and leaned back against the soft wall of the booth. "I'm Hongjoong; this is Seonghwa." He pointed at a guy with long hair. "San, but you've heard his name before. And this is Mingi." He pointed to a tall guy in the corner of the booth. "We're new here, and you're so gorgeous; can you blame us for being interested? But still, do you have someone, or should we try our luck?"

You roll your eyes in annoyance and look from one guy to the other until your eyes meet Hongjoong's.

"You're not my type, stud. So calm down, place your order, or get out of here. You know, there are a lot of other people who would like to be in your place.".

"The only place I want to be right now is..." San didn't get to finish because Seonghwa covered his mouth with his hand, but he didn't have to finish for you to understand what he meant.

"Don't pay any attention to him, doll. San is a very straightforward guy, but he's harmless." Mingi said, leaning towards you, only to wrap his arm around your hips and pull you towards him. "You know what they say, doll, safe the horse, ride the cowboy. Want to try?"

"Isn't someone falling for that?" You ask, squirming in Mingi's arms.

"Usually it works, yes." Seonghwa notices and reaches out to you, cupping your chin with his fingers and forcing you to look into his eyes. "I hope you can ride horses well, because we're going to give you a real wild rodeo, little flower."

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wannaeatramyeon · 6 months ago

Text

Lookism: "If you die tomorrow, would you have any regrets?"

G/N. Jake, Goo, Gun, DG, Ryuhei, Sammy. Reminder that Gun is canonically a gamer lmao.

Jake looks up at you in surprise, the morbid question catching him off guard.

"Why?" he asks, tilting his head.

"It was just a question I read."

"Hmm," Jake rubs at his chin and gazes off somewhere in the distance, no doubt thinking about all that has happened in his life. "Yeah. Loads."

Oh. You weren't expecting that-

"A lot of things I've made my peace with," Jake shrugs and you know he means Sinu and Samuel and Big Deal.

The mess with Workers, the falling out with Samuel and end of the Golden Era, the arrest of so many of his crew. He knows his mom is disappointed that he is so much like his father, his time in juvie, and Jake thinks if he tried better in school instead of fighting then maybe things would have worked out a lot differently.

"But-" he tugs on your hand, pulling you off-balance and falling straight into his lap.

"I'd regret not spending more time with you. All the time trying to be a good boss rather than a good boyfriend."

You open your mouth to argue that he is a good boyfriend but he continues on-

"I'd regret leaving you on your own. Even though I know you'd find someone easily," And Jake manages a small wistful smile, "I'd regret not being there for you."

"Me?" Goo blinks, looking up from his manga.

"Yes, you. The only other person here."

"Just checking, Cupcake." Goo thinks briefly for a moment before making up his mind.

"I'll regret not seeing how this manga ends," then he narrows his eyes, stabbing angrily at the page, "And not going to Japan to hunt down this asshole for killing my fave off-screen."

"Goo!" Maybe this is on you for expecting a serious answer.

He gets up and makes his way to you, peppers kisses all over your face as you roll your eyes. "You're not planning on killing me are you, Sweetheart?"

"Yes. Tonight. There's a knife under my pillow."

"Make sure you don't wake me, do it quick," he grins mischievously then-

An unpleasant thought pops up and he pulls a face. "Once I'm dead, you better not fall in love with anyone else. My ghost will haunt you, y'know."

"Fine, I'll just be sad and alone and mourning over you forever."

"Perfect!"

But what would Goo actually regret?

What's the saying? You can't take it with you.

Goo has such fun plans once he retires from all this crew shit. Neither of you have to work another day again, you can just spend the rest of your lives terrorising the general public instead. Travelling the world, swimming in a pool of money together, sleeping on a bed of cash. All that fun stuff.

Goo doesn't regret the time amassing his fortune, his little safety net for the future. But if he was to die tomorrow, he would regret not having that future with you.

Gun pauses the video game at your question, then turns to you with a brow arched, "Why do you think I'm going to die?"

"It's hypothetical. Like in a fight or something."

An arrogant smile spreads, "And who's strong enough to kill me?"

You click your tongue in annoyance at his response although you hate to admit that damn, you find his attitude sexy as hell. There's just something about him being able to back up his confidence with his skills and talent.

"Just answer my question!"

"No I would not have any regrets," he says, already turning back and resuming his game.

Of course Gun doesn't. As if someone like him would have any regrets.

Eyes still on the screen and fingers clicking on the controller, Gun adds quietly. "But you will be taken care of."

Oh.

If Gun were to die tomorrow, he would regret not being able to take care of you. Being by your side. In his line of work, it is always a possibility no matter how strong he is. The least he could do, and has done, is make sure that at least no harm or hardships befalls you after he is gone.

Money, protection, freedom. If he can't have a future, then he will assure yours.

DG falters mid-stride, giving it the briefest of thoughts before coming to a conclusion.

"Nope," he says with a cocky smirk.

He has very little to regret. His life as DG is what most people dream of. Fame and fortune, power and influence.

As James Lee he has proven he's the strongest, he's the peak and untouchable.

There's very little left for him to accomplish. Why would he have any regrets?

But, he supposes, as he is later handled by the assistants and the stylists, then plasters on a fake smile for TV appearances before being ushered to some event full of schmoozers and fakers and having to make small talk as DG, the idol and CEO-

Is that maybe if he could do it again, he would choose something with more privacy. More freedom. That he could do what he wants, whenever he wants.

And most importantly-

That he can walk hand in hand with you down the street without rabid fans screaming and the paparazzi photos making headlines.

Without you being on the receiving end of death threats and unhinged letters, and his agent and company telling him that he needs to apologize for his relationship. Backtrack it. Single idols sells better, appeals to the public more.

If DG died tomorrow, he thinks that actually he would regret this. He regrets keeping you in the shadows.

Ryuhei doesn't hesitate and tells you he wishes you were his first. For everything.

Even hand holding. Even hugs.

You pull a face at that.

"That's... Sweet." You say, lying through your teeth as Ryuhei looks at you with concerned puppy eyes.

"You wish the same, right?"

"Sure," you agree because where's the harm in appeasing this goofball.

In truth, and Ryuhei hates thinking about it, is that he does desperately wish that he met you first. Before Mitsuki, before anyone else.

Nevermind that it's a completely futile, fanciful dream because everything that has happened has led him to you.

But he thinks it would have worked out better. He could have been a better person, a better boyfriend. If he met you before he had a chance to develop his sex pest tendencies and obsessive behaviour that you had to stamp out.

It's pointless though. Not even worth dwelling on. What has happened has happened and he could only try to be better now.

Ryuhei considers the question again with a sigh. If he dies tomorrow, what would he regret?

Oh yeah! He would absolutely regret this!

"I'd regret that we can't bang anymore!"

"Ryuhei!"

Samuel immediately feels defensive at your question.

He thinks about what he hasn't yet achieved. All his dreams of becoming King, being at the top, and yet he's no closer.

"Why?" he asks, eyes starting to narrow behind his glasses.

You hold up both palms, in a gesture to indicate you didn't mean anything by it and your face tells him to just chill.

"I dunno. I found it and thought it was an interesting question."

"It's not." Samuel says, effectively ending the conversation and eyes dipping back down to his phone.

But it doesn't just end.

Samuel spirals and doesn't talk to you for the rest of the day, his shortcomings haunting him instead.

He drinks and he smokes and he spends even more time at work, trying to dull the ache of his inferiority.

The mornings and nights pass by in a blur, a string of toxic behaviours and self sabotage, until eventually - he comes to.

His failures and faults pushed to the back of his mind, rather than a constant reminder.

Then like a fog clearing, he finds clarity again. He sees your face, the worry, the trepidation... The guilt for asking an innocent question.

And Samuel knows that his biggest regret of all if he dies tomorrow is that you deserved better and he hasn't been able to give that to you.

#lookism #lookism x reader #jake kim x reader #gun park x reader #goo kim x reader #dg x reader #james lee x reader #ryuhei x reader #ryuhei kuroda x reader #samuel seo x reader #jake kim #gun park #goo kim #dg #james lee #diego kang #ryuhei kuroda #samuel seo #wannaeatramyeon

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madamechrissy · 3 months ago

Text

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you - in this chap it's Satoru Gojo x mistress, Nanami x you It's messy and will get messier :)

♔ Warnings: Sex, infidelity, mentions of past self harm, disordered eating of the reader, descriptions of reader physically (just ties in with the story here) panic attacks, cheating on both ends, cruelty from Duke Gojo, cunnilingus, fingering, slapping, toxic attraction. OOC. ANGST. Say hello to Mr. Nanami again hehe. Gojo is TERRIBLE still, you're warned

♔ Word count this chap: 8.8k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

Taglist open

Part Three ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

Part Four

One week Later

“It’s a deformed bunny, disgusting.” Duke Gojo says, shivering in disgust as you now are the proud owner of a pretty little Pomeranian, courtesy of Lord Geto and Lady Shoko, who are both standing in front of you now. You gasp, glaring at him, looking haughty in his pristine white suit.

“It is not! He’s beautiful, aren’t you baby?” You coo, caressing the soft white fur of the puppy. Satoru rolls his blue eyes, white lashes fluttering as he does.

“He sort of looks quite like you, Satoru.” Shoko says then with a snicker, and Gojo glares at her, as Geto pets the puppy along with you, before kissing your cheek, earning a furious glare from Gojo.

“Excuse me, Sugu, what are you doing?”

“What, you said you don’t even like her. What would you care?” Suguru pecks your cheek again, and you giggle, eyes glittering as you look up at him, putting your hand on his shoulder as he grins.

“You’ll respect me in my home, thank you very much. No decorum.” Gojo gets scoffed at by all three of you then, as his Mistress slinks down the winding staircase, and Shoko bursts out in laughter. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not excused. Really, she was my servant!? I wondered where she went… she was stealing all my silverware.” The Mistress blushes then, and you can’t stop your giggle. Shoko is gorgeous, with tired, dark eyes and dark hair piled high, you errantly notice Suguru eyeing her just a bit here and there, and you look between the two.

Hmm, they would look good together, wouldn't they?

You know they’ve always been friends, the three of them, and if you could save anyone the pain of a loveless marriage you would. You put the puppy down then, as Shoko smacks Satoru in the back of the head, making him duck down in pain, before snatching him up by the ear. His mistress runs off now, clearly reading the room, she was also afraid of you.

It’s odd, you were too nice to one, then apparently too mean to the other. Navigating Satoru’s Mistresses was difficult.

“Ow, you little-” Satoru huffs, bringing your attention back to Shoko wailing on him now.

“You’re such a royal asshole. Maybe I’ll smack some sense into you. Inviting a Mistress to dinner? Flaunting her?” Satoru glares at Suguru then, who just shrugs, a smile on his handsome features.

“You told her everything!?” He demands, and Suguru just gives a little nod, as Shoko drags him into another room.

“She’s amazing.” You say in admiration, and Suguru chuckles into his hand a bit, before brushing back your hair fondly.

“Told you I’d bring a gift.” You lean up, pecking his cheek then, watching his high cheekbones flush.

“You did, and the best gift ever, oh Lord Geto you’re so amazing.” You hold his hand tightly, as the memories of your kiss hit. You flush a bit yourself as he grips your hand and brushes his lips gently.

“Suguru, please my Lady. We’re close now, you know.” He says huskily, and you feel your pulse race at his intent.

“Indeed, we are. But… may I say, you and Lady Shoko? You both would make such a couple.” He flushes more now, looking away and clearing his throat.

“We are just friends, Duchess.”

“Mmm, marriages are built off worse. Look at me.” Suguru frowns now, sighing as he looks down at you. “You both are of high status as well. Just something to consider, I’d hate for you to feel something like this.”

“The difference is, I would try in a marriage, not… whatever the fuck Satoru’s dumbass is doing.”

“I know you would. Well, ignore me, I seem to think I’m a matchmaker, and look at me. I’m here missing his old mistress.” Suguru’s lips part, then he glares.

“What now?”

“Catherine left because I was too nice, but I quite got along with her.” You say, and Suguru swipes his hand on his face.

“You should hate any woman who lays with your husband, and so blatantly.”

“I only hate him.” You say, and he sighs, nodding a bit.

“You’re too good of a woman, you know that? Like some pretty angel.” You shake your head, but he tilts your chin up then, brushing a thumb across your jaw line, and looks at you with those warm chocolate eyes.

“You’re too good of a man, Suguru.” He smirks a bit.

“First name, finally hmm? Scandalous.” You giggle again, as Satoru and Shoko come back in, and Satoru has a hilarious handprint on his pretty face. He glares over at the two of you, and Shoko smiles.

“What are you naming the dog, Duchess?” She asks teasingly, and you look at Satoru, then down at the pretty puppy, his tongue lolling out.

“I’ll name it Satoru.” Satoru gasps then.

“What!?” At the Duke’s angry yell, Shoko and Suguru fall into fits of laughter, as you all watch him lose it. “You’ll not name an ugly bunny after me, you damned bratty girl.”

“Why not, it does look at you. Look at this expression!” You pick the puppy up, and it tilts his head curiously, ears perking up as his tongue lolls, earning Shoko and Suguru bent over in laughter, nearly in tears, as Gojo steps up to you now, seething in his anger.

“You have no right to say anything like that to me, damned brat. Calling me a dog!”

“You do act like a dog. Not a well behaved one though. One I’d have to put outside for pissing on the floor and humping furniture.” You say then, and he’s furious now, as you scowl right up at him, and Shoko and Suguru are doubled over.

“You dare think you can insult me?” He demands, and now it grows more serious, you roll your eyes at him, snuggling your puppy then. “You?”

"It's just a name, Satoru. And quite frankly, he's a lot more charming than his namesake." His jaw sets now, as he looks down at you, where you’re holding the happy puppy.

“Insolent damn brat, as if you-”

“None of that, especially in front of me. Before I smack you for her.” Suguru says now, and Gojo rolls his eyes.

“Fine, you all bring her a stupid pup and insult me? Have you both not been my friends since childhood?” He asks them, and they glare simultaneously.

“As your friends we will be honest, it’s what we promised. This… it’s unacceptable. If you dislike this beauty so much, let her have an annulment, why hurt her so?” Shoko says, and you tense as Satoru laughs, darkly.

“Even my friends just adore you. You’re so perfect, aren’t you?” He demands, stepping even closer, filling your senses with his energy, and you step back now, needing space before you slap him yourself.

“I’m so tired of hearing that. Perfect. I am no such thing, clearly, as you tell me my flaws daily. Now, I think I’ll take this precious cutie on a walk.” You say, hugging Shoko then, and she hugs you back tightly, then hugging Suguru, pulling back to hold their hands. “Thank you both so much, I shall treasure this.”

“It’s nothing, Duchess.” Suguru kisses your hand again, and you smile softly, looking between them then.

“Will you be at the masquerade tomorrow? Together?” You tease, earning their blushes, as they look away.

“Dance with him? No way.” Shoko says, crossing her arms, and Suguru glares then.

“What’s wrong with dancing with me?”

“You’re Suguru!”

“And!?”

You’re snickering now. “Listen, just a thought. Suguru, will you save me a dance as well?”

“Of course I will, Duchess. Shoko… I’m a very good dancer, excuse me?” He then says to Shoko, and she rolls her eyes, waving at you as you head out with a satisfied smile, pulling the puppy along. Satoru stops you at the giant doors then, making you pause as you look up at him.

“I’m taking Satoru for a walk, Duke Gojo.” You say, earning an even harsher glare from him now, you hold in your laughter at it.

“Where will you be? I wonder. Under a man like a whore?” You laugh then, you can’t help it, earning him gripping your waist then, over your pretty blue bodice. It burns through your layers, you hate it so, your eyes narrow.

“Me, a whore? Go peer in that looking glass, Duke. I’ve watched you fuck three women in a couple weeks. I’m still a virgin.” He gulps then, eyes drinking you in, those long white lashes darting down your body, making you furious at the effect, fuck you wish your body would align with your mind.

His hand squeezes now, and you smack at it angrily. “And how long will you be a virgin I wonder?” He bites out, vitriol in every word.

“It’s none of your concern, dear husband. You just try to keep this mistress, they seem to run from you don’t they?” You whisper, tapping his lower lip now, and he snarls as you saunter out the door. “Farewell!”

Now here you are, in front of Nanami Kento’s apartments, along with your puppy, Satoru. You are nervous as you stand there, wondering just what you are thinking, would he even remember you? Was it some fun for him you wonder, and are you insane to be here!?

You’re a duchess, a married woman at that, clutching your thin blue cloak over your body, as your little dog named after your cruel husband is running around your ankles, wrapping the leash in a circle. You gasp then, as he’s firmly trapping you, just as Nanami Kento opens the door, and finds you tied up by your own dog, and he can’t help but laugh.

“Duchess… do you need my assistance?” He asks softly, and you drink him then, he has an apron on and flour dusted along his pants. You are flushed, so embarrassed as Satoru keeps running.

“Please, Mr. Nanami, could you assist?” You ask then, and he bends down, unclipping the leash from little Satoru and letting him inside, before he yanks you in as well, making you breathless.

“I told you, anything you require.” He says then, slowly unwrapping the leash from around you, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement as he unwraps you gently, until the leash is in his big hands. You notice bruises and scrapes on the back of them as he hands it to you. “All fixed now, Duchess.”

“Thank you Mr. Nanami. My hero.” You tease, then you inhale something sweet in the air, sighing. “Are you baking, Sir?”

“I am making cookies. Would you care to help? I could teach you.” He says, and you giggle then, putting the leash down and taking off your cloak, not missing the desire in his eyes as he looks at you.

“I actually am a skilled baker. I would love to help. What kind of cookie?” You ask, and watch his thin blond brows raise.

“You can bake? You’re… a noble, though…”

“My parents always let me bake, I quite love that, and cooking. Is it so surprising, Mr. Nanami?” You ask then, and he smiles softly, tired eyes getting hazy.

“You endlessly surprise me, my Lady. Come then, I have an extra apron, that dress is too beautiful to dirty.” He says softly, and you flush under his gentle praise, taking his hand and letting him lead you into his kitchen. “I did not know you were coming, I’m sorry my place must seem so small to you.”

“It’s lovely, Mr. Nanami.” Your voice is soft, as your eyes drink him in, his khaki trousers so covered in flour it’s quite adorable. You smile a bit at just how handsome he looks like this, as your dog is happily running around you both. “Please, know that I am not a typical noble. I quite enjoy your home.”

“Thank you… you’re absolutely not typical. I think that’s the furthest thing from how I would describe you.” He holds a white linen apron then, as he smiles down at you gently. “I’d describe you as… one of a kind.”

“Is that good or bad, Sir?” You ask, and Nanami chuckles a bit, as he ties the apron around you, and you tense as he’s behind you, his breath tickling your ear as he bends down.

“It’s a good thing. May I loosen this some, so you’re comfortable?” He asks, you nod then, shyly, and he’s so sweet as you turn and lift your hair. You feel his hands tremble just a bit as they trail down your back, between your shoulder blades. “You’re so tiny.”

“Am I to you? Maybe because you’re so big.” You tease, and he exhales then, one hand splaying the expanse of your back.

“No, you are Darling.” He says then, husky as he runs a finger down your spine gently, you shiver at how good it feels. “You don’t really need a corset you know.”

“I certainly do. I’ll plump up when eating your cookies.” You tease, but he hears it, the fear in your voice, and he grips you then, a hand on either side of your waist, as emotions hit, thinking of how much Satoru’s tiny words have affected your views.

“Do you fear eating truly? You’re in the wrong household, I’ll be shoving all sorts of sweets in your mouth.” He murmurs then, and you exhale, eyes shutting as you feel him, every bit of this man behind you.

“I do enjoy sweets.” You whisper, turning to him then, your corset loose on your back, revealing more of your breasts to his view, and you watch that Adam’s apple bob up and down as he gulps, his big hands sliding up your ribcage.

“Has he lied to you so much you think you can’t eat?” He whispers, hurt stark in his voice for you, and you sigh, looking down.

“It was a mere comment or two, he has taken them back. I think I just let them hurt me too much, let them get to me.” You murmur, frowning a bit at such a realization now.

“How wouldn’t that hurt? Well I assure you, your body is perfect. And you can eat what you wish around me.” He says so softly, making you blink back tears.

��Nanami…” You lean up to kiss him then, and fuck it feels so good, so natural to kiss this man here, and fuck isn’t he a man. He’s holding you with those sure hands, kissing you so gently in return, his firm lips brushing against yours, before his talented tongue consumes your mouth, making you gasp.

He moans then, picking you up with ease, pressing you along the taupe kitchen wall, and you’re left so breathless at the ease in which he handles you. You cling to him then, as your thighs wrap his hips, and you feel that heat even between your skirts, as he leans back and cups your face so delicately.

“I want you so badly I can’t focus. I thought you were just another dream last week.” He whispers, and you whimper, from the back of your throat, making him moan softly, kissing you again, over and over, as you grind tentatively, forcing a groan from him now. He holds your hips firmly. “Darling…”

“Yes, Mr. Nanami?” Your lips are covered again, his hands gripping your ass through layers of crinoline and petticoats.

“I’ll eat you instead of the cookies.” You giggle then, it feels so damn good to be in his embrace, so comfortable and perfect.

“Please, let’s bake, then we’ll… um, continue.” He exhales, letting you down gently, brushing you against his entire body, so hard and muscular, and you find your pussy just throbbing around nothing, dripping wet under your dress.

“I will surely try to focus, darling. You make it difficult.” You both laugh softly, and soon you are cooking together, side by side, shoulders brushing. He hands you flour, then sugar, and you’re mixing them carefully with a whisk. “You are the prettiest baker I’ve seen.”

“Am I, Sir? You do go on.” You are swirling the dough now, smiling up at him brightly, met with his little smirk, that lights up his handsome face.

“You have a little flour here.” He laps his tongue along the side of your lip, and you suck in a breath. He then leans back, hazel eyes so hazy, those blond lashes lowering. “Better.”

“Much better.” You agree, your pulse is racing, and he’s behind you now, wrapping his strong arms around your delicate waist. He helps you form the dough, kneading it with both of your hands touching, covered in flour, and it’s so intimate you can scarcely function.

The kitchen is so warm, filled with the sweet aroma of sugar and vanilla, and the rhythmic sounds of kneading dough and crackling firewood from Nanami’s living room. You’re in front of him now, swallowed by his huge frame, as Nanami’s breath whispers against your neck with his instruction, sending shivers down your spine as his hands guide yours.

“You’re doing so good, Darling.” He encourages, and those words from him continue to ignite a flame as hot as that fire now, to the point you feel sweat beading on your forehead. You wipe it with the back of your hand as he takes that hand, pressing his lips against it. “You smell more delectable than these cookies.”

“No, Sir I do not!” You giggle, and his gentle touch is both comforting and electrifying, and it’s all you can do to keep your wits about you as you shape the cookies together, his hands on yours.

“I bet you taste better.” He says, so husky, your hands pause as your heart thumps in your chest, looking back up at him, and he’s pressed against you now, you feel something so hard on your back now. You’re a blushing mess as you wonder at it, as you wonder about his body.

What does it look like? You can feel those muscles, you see how his shirts stretch across them…

You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the polished copper pots hanging on the wall, your cheeks flushed with desire, your eyes dark with need, and you’ve never seen yourself like this. The warmth of Nanami is a stark contrast to the chilly reception you get from your actual husband, the Duke, and you can’t help but lean back into him, feeling his hardness press against your lower back firmer and harder, making him gasp then.

“Duchess… you’ll be the death of me.” He murmurs then, making you arch up more, one hand sliding up to cup the side of his face, pulling it down to you.

“Nanami Kento, I cannot quite focus on baking these cookies. You’re so distracting, you know.” He chuckles, vibrating against your body, as the cookies begin to take shape.

“Ah, forgive me Duchess. You’re rather distracting as well. So, may I ask how you know to bake, as someone so high up in status?” He asks, and you sigh a bit, eyes fluttering in pleasure as you feel his warmth enwrapping you.

“My parents always let me go into the kitchens. My Nan taught me so much, she was like my parent, honestly. I find cooking so calming.”

“Hmm, it’s very impressive.”

“Is it? It’s just a hobby, Sir.”

“Everything about you is impressive.” You become more and more aware of his arousal, and it’s clear he’s fighting to keep his thoughts from straying, to keep his touches polite, as your mind goes awry.

Nanami’s breath hitches every time your body brushes his, and when you finally turn to face him, as your cookies are placed in the oven, you see the desire in his eyes is mirrored in your own. You place your flour-covered hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath the fabric. He looks at you, the intensity of his gaze making your knees wobble.

“Nanami, I-” you start, but he cuts you off with a gentle finger to your lips.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He whispers, the house silent now, aside from the snoring of your dog and that fireplace, and the whirling of the oven. “You’re so beautiful it makes me ache.”

“Thank you, I…” You yank off your apron then, watching his lips part as he watches your fingers go to your bodice. “Nanami, please.”

“Please what, my darling?” He helps you take off your bodice now, moaning as he looks at your body, as he then starts unzipping your skirts with sure fingers.

“Touch me. Please.” You’re begging, but you don’t care, you can think of nothing more you want than Mr. Nanami to touch you, to taste you, to feel you. He groans, helping you step out of your skirts, left in just your chemise. His breaths come out in heavy pants as his eyes study you.

“You’re so beautiful. Dear God. Do I deserve to see you?” He slides down your chemise then, leaving you bare, and for a moment you tense, but he holds your arms open, hands sliding down the sides of your breasts, making your nipples taut. “Please don’t hide, you’re so perfect.”

Perfect.

Are you? Is that a compliment?

You shove that back, gulping then, throat dry as he’s sliding sure hands down the nip of your waist now, before gripping your hips, his thumbs pressing into your pelvis, and you’re melting. His sure hands tremble just slightly, as he leans so close, bending down, his lips against your ear.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.”

“You, handsome sir, are too nice to me.”

“It’s true. I would not lie. Fuck, and I’m the first to see you fully?” You hear it, the question and desire.

“Fully, yes. Um… I’m so nervous.” You admit, then squeal a bit as he picks you up in his arms, bridal style, the way Satoru Gojo should have held you the first night, but no.

“Duke Gojo…” You stand there at the threshold of your new home, Gojo Manor, and Satoru raises a brow, smirking sardonically.

“Expect me to carry you? Absolutely not. Don’t think I want the back pain, let alone you in my arms.” You’re trembling at that, tears filling your eyes. You look down then, feeling so unwanted, so insecure.

“I just thought this was a tradition.” You say, voice hoarse, and Satoru scoffs, walking in ahead of you.

“I’d rather not suffer having you in my arms.” He strides away then, leaving you at the doorway, devastated.

“Darling, you’re crying.” Nanami whispers, as you realize you’re now in his immaculate bedroom, it’s spotless, aside from some of his ties and spectacles along a white dresser. You cling to him, arms around his neck now, trying to bring your focus to him.

“I was having a bad memory. You’re fixing it.” You say then, and he kisses you, so passionately, until you’re on your back, his bed creaking slightly as he straddles you, completely naked as he’s fully dressed. Your hips buck up, back arching for more and more of his caresses. “Oh, Nanami…”

“Kento.” He corrects softly, hands slipping down your hips to grip your ass, spreading your cheeks and exposing more of your eager cunt, dripping. You’re whimpering as your eyes lock with his.

“Kento.” His name on your lips does him in, he’s slamming that mouth back down, kissing away every thought and fear you have, and your arms wrap around his neck now, pulling him down for more and more of his expert kisses.

“My darling, may I please taste you?” He asks huskily, kissing down your throat now, you cry out as his hand slides down your soft tummy, splaying it before a thumb brushes down the lips of your sex.

“Oh my god!” You scream out when he touches you somewhere, so sensitive it makes you feel overheated, it makes your body twitch in response. “What is that, Kento?”

“One of your spots, darling. And fuck… you’re so wet.” He whispers, making you cry out even more, trembling violently as he rubs little circles, kissing down your waist and peering up at you with his eyes, full of desire.

“Feels s’good.” You whine, making him grip you tighter with his free hand, as he continues to circle your clit, before sliding his finger down, inside you. You gasp at the sensation of feeling so full suddenly, dripping down his thick finger. “Oh my… it’s s’good, I-”

“You’re so tight. Mmm.” He huffs as he crooks his finger up, hitting some spot that makes you blinded then, seeing black and glittery stars. You’re feeling waves of pleasure wash over you, as your hands clutch Nanami’s soft blankets, the heels of your feet digging into his bed, as he kisses lower, lower. “You smell so good too, heavenly… fuck.”

“What are you… you’re… Kento!” You scream out then, hands enwrapping in his sandy blond hair as he kisses you where he just touched. “Huh? Wha-”

“I want to taste you, darling. Please… if you want.” He spreads your thighs with sure hands now, and you’re dripping out of your little hole, as the cool air of his room hits you, as he’s got those lips parted, devouring you with a gaze. “You’re so beautiful… your cunt…”

“My… cunt?” You whisper, and he sighs, tickling your cunt now, making you jump at it.

“Your cunt, your pussy… this.” He kisses it again, and you’re falling back into the bed, hips rising up for more, more. “You taste so good, darling.”

“Y-you wanna… um… taste me there?” You ask nervously, garnering his light laugh, as he spreads the plump lips of your sex, licking his full lower lip.

“I want to taste you everywhere, darling. But only if you want.” You exhale, struggling to compose yourself, as he’s laying between your thighs, looking so sexy now, looking at you with such desire you can’t take it. It overwhelms you, how beautiful you feel, versus how you feel at home.

With the man that scoffs at you, that downs you, but for one moment had said one nice thing… that your breasts were perfect. And you, so stupid, had avoided seeing Nanami all week, feeling so awful, as Satoru fucks his mistress in the room next to you. You were so stupid, so desperate for just one bit of affection you’d take even the crumbs.

Until today, when you knew you needed to see Nanami, to be in his arms, so strong and sure, to feel his presence, calming and intoxicating. Your hands cup his face now, garnering his kiss on your palm, his hands pressing on the backs of your thighs, spreading you and making you blush as his silky hair tickles your inner thigh.

“Please taste me, Nanami Kento. I want you to.”

“Oh my… Oh my god, darling.” He says huskily then, you know he was waiting for that, for your permission, and he’s swiping his tongue up your slit, and fuck it feels so good you scream out, embarrassingly loud, hips rising up for more, more.

“Ngh, oh my-ah!” You cry out, weakly, while Nanami is lapping your wetness up, as it drools from your eager cunt, then his tongue is inside you, and your walls are fluttering around it. His big hands grip your thighs roughly, squeezing them, pressing against the muscles there. You’re falling apart, as his nose bumps your clit, as he’s moaning and vibrating against you.

He’s licking higher, and your eyes are rolling back, as now the tip of his tongue begins to flick under your clit, over and over, quick gentle flicks that consume you. Your hands tangle in his hair, and you find yourself pulling it, shoving him against you, for more of it. His eyes, glinting green in the soft light coming from his blinds, stare up at you as he works you like an instrument.

Your pleasure starts building, until it feels like your body is on fire, and you scream out, with so much force, your voice gets hoarse and breaks in the middle. You feel yourself fading more and more, until it’s just him, the sexy noises as he practically drinks you, and he’s pulling back for just a moment, sliding his finger back in, pumping it in and out.

“Kento… I’m… something…” You can’t describe it, the pressure about to break now, and Nanami exhales, making you jump from the breath hitting you, as he watches you so carefully, your every expression.

“You’re so close, I feel you. Let go, darling, let go. I have you.” He whispers, and then he slurps away your sweetness, his tongue stroking upwards, and that’s when you topple over that edge.

You’re crying out, your toes curling as your body jolts with the force of your orgasm, overtaking your every sense. You see stars behind your eyes as it explodes, as you’re trembling from how hard you’re cumming, breasts heaving, your little hands pulling his hair, as your cunt is soaking Nanami Kento’s handsome face.

He’s moaning, drinking it up, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches you cum, watching you shatter for him. “Yes, darling, that’s it. You’re doing so good.”

Fuck.

Nanami doesn’t stop, even as your hips are bucking and jolting, he continues to lick and suck, his hands squeezing your ass, your thighs, his tongue pushing into you, and you’re sobbing, feeling so full you can’t take it. You’re muttering nonsensically, pulling at him, as he pushes you again.

“Too much, Kento… ah-ah-ah!” You scream again, shaking now, as he slips two fingers inside of you, leaning up, and his lips are a breath away. “K-Kento…”

“You’re beautiful cumming, I knew it. I knew I’d love to watch this pretty face. All flushed for me.” His sultry words wreck you even further, and your hands slide up his shoulders, pulling at him. “Want to taste yourself, your sweetness?”

“Is that… proper…” He chuckles then, kissing you deeply, as his two fingers are pressing up on that spot, stretching your tight entrance out, and you can… hear it, your wetness, making you a blushing mess as you writhe under him. You taste it then, your arousal on his tongue.

“Nothing I’m doing is proper, darling. But… it feels good, doesn’t it?” You nod eagerly, kissing him again, hands trembling as they unbutton his shirt now.

“S’good, Kento… never felt… anything. Like… like… ah!” You scream again, and he’s leaned up, watching you so carefully, desire making his eyes lidded, his lips quirking up as he watches you.

“Hear it, love?” He says softly, and you nod, planting little kisses on his throat. “So wet for me.”

“I can, it’s embarrassing.” He laughs a bit, shaking his head, and you notice how his eyes crinkle in the corner, those dark circles merely enhancing them. You reach a hand up to cup his face now. “You laugh at me, S-Sir?”

“You’re precious. So precious.” He kisses you again, and now you have his shirt off, hands splaying his hard chest, feeling the hot skin, his heart thudding under your palm, then he curls his fingers and your head falls back, hips bucking off the bed. “Can you cum again, love?”

You nod weakly, and he starts sucking on your neck, as your head lolls to the side, tickling you so good, and you feel yourself pulsing around his thick digits now, cumming once more, falling apart under him. Nanami groans, angling his arm to shove them in deeper, making you so full, too full, until you’re desperately clinging to him, your legs shaking as a final orgasm hits.

This one is even more intense, so intense you’re weak, as he’s finally slipping his fingers out, and he is kissing you once more, his weight on you now. Your mind is whirling as you desperately unbutton him now, hand sliding down to touch him, but he stops it, shaking his head now. You pout, looking up at his grin.

“Nanami, let me… do things.” You don’t really know what you’re saying, but his little laugh makes you ache more.

“Do things? Hmm?”

“Indeed, I want to… touch you there.” He has your hand in his, kissing it softly, shaking his head again.

“Not yet, darling, today is about you and your pleasure.” He says, caressing your face, brushing the hair that’s fallen out of it’s coif back softly as he looks at you. “I want to do this for you.”

“I want you. Nanami, please. More.” You beg, arching up, and you feel it then, his hard length between your thighs, he pins you gently to the bed, halting your movements now. You pout again.

“We’ll do more next time. If you wish for another time?”

“If I wish, what do you think?” He laughs again, throwing his head back, and you glare now. “Acting so gentlemanly when you’re a tease, Sir.”

“Indeed, I am a bit, but it’s too fun to tease you, to watch you.” The timer goes off then, and he sighs, sitting up and running a feather light touch down your body once more, down every curve. “You’re so beautiful I can’t put words to it.”

“You really make me feel so pretty.” You whisper brokenly, as emotions hit, and now you are frantic, thinking of how you’ll have to leave. He frowns, leaning you up and brushing your tears away.

“Darling, don’t cry, please. I promise we will do more-”

“S’not that. It’s that… I don’t want to leave.” You say brokenly, and he exhales, bringing you to his chest, holding you gently.

“My lawyer is looking into it for you. Maybe we will find out something?”

“But Nanami, I’ll stop you from being happy, from finding someone, I can’t do that to you. This is selfish, I’m selfish, I’m-”

“Stop that. Stop that now.” He kisses you quiet, pulling you onto his lap, and you ache more and more, as you think of what awaits you, your ‘husband’ fucking women, being cruel, your loneliness. It starts to consume you. “Hey, hey… it’s okay love. You’re not preventing me from anything. I’m just enjoying you.”

“Don’t let me stop you, please?” He sighs then, shaking his head a bit as he strokes your back.

“Calm down, darling… please. I promise you’re not stopping anything, you’re just making my days better.” You sniffle a bit as you smile now. “Let’s get you dressed, you’re shivering. Was this too much?”

“No, I loved it. Promise.” Soon Nanami is dressing you, and you are calmed now, sitting on the settee by the fireplace, as you are nibbling on yummy cookies, and he’s pouring you a little glass of milk. “Oh thank you! These are so good!”

“Worked up an appetite hmm?” He smirks as you blush, nibbling your cookie and moaning at how good it tastes.

“You could say so.” He kisses you softly, and your heart thuds, as your little puppy wakes up now, running up to you both. Nanami picks him up, putting him in his lap then.

“So what’s his name?” You giggle then.

“Satoru.”

Leaving the bliss of Nanami Kento’s warm apartments for the cold, gigantic manor of the Gojo estate makes you shiver. You brace for impact, because you’re sure Satoru is fucking his mistress on something, does the man do anything but fuck you wonder at times. You see him in his study frequently, and he leaves often to go to meetings, but he sure does love to fuck.

Now that you’ve cum so hard your legs are weak, you guess you understand a bit more. Leaving Nanami had taken far too much effort, to feel like someone just wants you so much, like you’re not some burden? That and the man sure knew how to do… things.

You heat up just thinking of it, of how you’d tasted yourself.

You let your dog run now, and he runs right up to Satoru, who is sitting at the dining room table, alone. You pause then, looking around in the quiet dining room now, it’s a beautiful mix of golds and burgundies. Satoru looks as you walk in, his eyes raking down your body now, making you shiver a bit. You clear your throat, taking off your cloak and hanging it up.

“Where have you been?” He asks, and his voice is… different. It’s dark, and husky, and lacks some of the cruelty. You pause a bit.

“Where’s the new Mistress? Has she left already?” You ask, earning a mirthless laugh.

“She’s asleep. You didn’t answer my question. Have a seat.”

“Have a seat?”

“Are you deaf? Sit.” He pulls back a chair, and it grinds against the wood floor in a sound that hurts your ears, a screech, and he pats the seat with his hand.

“All right, if you wish…” You sit down next to him, and he snaps fingers, soon dinner is brought to you. “I’m not hungry, Duke.”

“You never are, are you? Ever since I said that.” He says, and you look to his eyes then, by the candlelight of the room, swirling a dark blue that’s intense to even look at. You sigh, picking up a fork then.

“It did make me watch what I eat in front of you, yes. I am not angry about it though. Just cautious I suppose.” You poke around at your plate, and he’s scowling at you now.

“I shouldn’t have, bloody hell, I already told you I was wrong. Must you torture me so?” He asks hoarsely, and you now look at him in shock.

“How does that torture you? I’m confused, Duke.”

“You’re perfect, and all I do is…” He trails off then, running a hand through his snowy white hair. “Will you just fucking eat!?”

You clear your throat, looking down at your plate now. “As you wish.”

“As I wish.” He scoffs, but you do nibble on the food, chewing it thoughtfully, watching him with growing confusion at his actions. “It’s all - as you wish - dear husband - your grace.”

“What else do you expect? I did truly eat a lot of cookies, so I got a little full though.” You giggle softly, and now he’s glaring right at you, his hazy blue eyes sharp as they bore into you, burning you with a look.

“Cookies, hmm?”

“I baked them in fact.” You sip your water now, sighing and feeling Satoru’s gaze dip to your neck.

“You so shamelessly let a man mark you?” He is leaned forward now, thumb on your throat, and you smack his hand, glaring at him.

“I see your mistress' necks. Hypocritical man.”

“You’re a bloody Duchess, you’re not a common whore.”

“Is that a compliment, Gojo?”

“No. No, it's a bloody warning. You’ll not embarrass me.”

You stand then, throwing down your fork, leaning forward on the table and glaring at him. “You embarrass me daily!”

He stands now as well, throwing down his napkin, leaning forward and looming over you, jaw clenched, blue eyes narrowed to slits. “Is baking cookies what you call fucking?”

You laugh at that, shoulders shaking then, earning his firm grip as he yanks you by your wrist now, and you struggle in his hold. “I did not fuck, yet.”

“Yet!?”

“Mmm… I found out what orgasms are. Oh, Duke, they're quite addictive, aren’t they?” You whisper, stepping closer as you watch his jaw clench so hard a vein pops out, his lips parting then.

“What now?” The Duke bites those words out.

“You don’t just get them from fucking, no… I was… hmm.” You take a bite of the food then, as he’s fuming, licking your lips. “Eaten. That’s the term I believe.”

Satoru sputters now, jaw dropped as his eyebrows lower, and you can’t wipe that satisfied grin off your damn face, even as he smacks at your hand, gripping that wrist now too. “You brag about it, like a little slut.”

“Why not, maybe you’ll like me more, maybe you’ll be a bit less cruel. Today I was told I’m beautiful, today I was treasured. And yes, cumming several times…” You step closer, tilting your head back to look up at him. “I see why you’re always fucking, Duke Gojo. It’s quite the high, cumming. I hear it tastes so good, my pussy.”

“Goddammit.” He yanks you to him then, shoving you on the table, spreading your legs and pulling you against him. You smack him then, right across the face, as your breasts heave with labored breaths, and he’s yanking at your hair.

“Shouldn’t you be happy, Duke? I am so occupied I’ll never come near you. I’ll never cry like that damn night, on the floor, my cheek stinging, my heart destroyed.” Your voice breaks then, and his pretty, cruel face softens for just a moment, as beautiful blue eyes drink you in.

“I bet I could make you cum harder.” He whispers, you laugh at that, earning his bruising grip on your hips.

“I doubt that, I daresay I made such a mess. Quite embarrassing, when I could hear how wet-”

Satoru Gojo slams his lips on yours then, and at first you’re so in shock you just sit there, slack jawed, but then his tongue slips between your lips, and his hands slide around to your back, bringing you against his hard body. As you gasp, his tongue goes further, and then you feel it…

You’re throbbing for him.

Fuck him. Fuck Satoru Gojo.

You bite his lip hard, only making him moan, you bite him so hard you draw blood, pushing on his chest. He’s licking that spot of blood, insane look in his damn psychotic eyes, and you see it. Desire, stark and heavy, as he exhales, gripping you so tightly you can’t breathe. You both just sit there, you both are just breathing, and glaring, and staring…

“Fuck you. I hate you, I hate you so much. You dare kiss me?” You demand then, swiping at your lips with the back of your hand. Satoru laughs, harshly, sliding a hand up your breast, gripping it and eliciting a whimper. You curse yourself for it.

“I hate you, little miss perfect. I hate being near you. I hate everything about you, how you walk, how you look…” He’s yanking your top down, thumb brushing your nipple, and you arch your back. He feels so goddamn good, his other hand slinking up your spine, to pull your hair so hard it pricks your eyes. His lips hover, his eyes lidded as he tells you that he hates you.

“Yes, how I look, so ugly to you. Right?” You yank his shirt then, an expensive shirt in your grip, balled into a damn fist.

“I never fucking said that. I never did. You know you’re not, you’re just a conceited little bitch who wants someone on their knees.” He speaks with vitriol, right against your mouth, and you taste him, and you wish he didn’t taste good, you wish he didn’t feel good.

You wish that kiss wasn’t the most intense thing you’ve felt. You wish there weren’t shocks everywhere, that there wasn’t desire in your gut.

You hate him.

“Having someone on their knees made me cum, so yes, I did fucking enjoy it, Duke Gojo. Having him drink me-” Satoru growls now, hand on your throat, wrapping, thumb on your pulse point, and he’s slamming his lips down again, and you hate yourself for what you do next.

You kiss him back, you’re devouring each other, moaning into each other's mouths, teeth clicking against each other, tongues messy and desperate. It’s not like anything you’ve ever felt, as he’s ripping off your bodice, tearing it in half. You rip his shirt, as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his hips, and you pull back to gasp, staring at him, scowling.

“You’ll hurt your back, remember, don’t pick me up.” He slams you on the table, swiping everything on the ground, yanking you by your thighs.

“You don’t hurt my fucking back. You’re stupid. You’re fucking stupid. I wish I never even met you.” You’re sobbing now, and he doesn’t fucking care, does he, no he’s kissing you again, sliding his hands up your thighs, shoving your skirts up.

“I wish I never met you. Arrogant, cruel, stupid. Fucking hate you. Probably covered in your little whore’s cum.” He smacks you now, and you laugh right in his face, kissing him again, before crying out when he’s kissing down your neck, biting you brutally, leaving teeth marks, and your nipples grow taut, as you’re soaking wet.

“I’ll mark you myself, stupid little bitch.” He grunts out, biting you again, so hard you’re blinded by the pain, by the pleasure.

“Ah!” You’re grinding up for more friction, as he’s kissing down your breasts, sucking a nipple into his hot, eager mouth, making you lose every sense you’ve had, you’re consumed by your hatred, by this need. “Thought you never would kiss me, never touch me, don’t start now. Go lick your little Mistress’ cunt.”

“Cunt!? This is how you speak, like a damned common harlot. I don’t lick their cunts, you stupid girl.”

“You’re selfish, I bet you’re a terrible lover.”

“I only do that in a relationship, I have standards.” You scoff, then he’s on his knees, spreading you wide, and you’re shoving at him.

“Well then what the fuck are you doing down there!?”

“I’ll lick you so good you’ll not have a stupid thought in your stupid head about some other man.” Satoru’s big hands rip your pantalets now, and he hungrily stares at your cunt. “Fuck… you’re perfect there too. Fucking hate you. All of you.”

“Wh-what… you don’t lick them… then why me…” He’s huffing, his long fingers bruising now, as he looks up at you, his breath against your inner thigh, glaring at you with hatred.

“You’re so fucking stupid.”

“You are! You won’t get me off at all. Bet you-”

“Ahem… Duke Gojo?” You both turn, breathless, and it’s Satoru’s Mistress. She’s looking at you both with wide eyes, and you feel yourself tear up again, as you realize what you were doing. How could you ever do this with him? He’s probably covered in her, he hates you. He…

“What the fuck are you doing here, can you not see I’m busy?” You blink in confusion, as Satoru scowls at her, and she wrings her hands.

“But you said you only wanted me!” She stomps and pouts then, and you close your legs, shaking and sitting up, your dress torn to pieces. He stops you, his eyes swirling pools of beautiful blue, almost making you forget how much you hate him then, how horrible he is.

How disgusting he is.

“Go on now, don’t disappoint her, Duke.” You whisper, and he grabs your face, squeezing it so tightly, squishing your cheeks.

“Insolent brat. We’re not finished with this conversation.” He hisses through his teeth, and you smack his hand again.

“Go on, you have fucking to do.”

“And you have cumming to do.”

“Not by you!”

“Yes, by me! Damn-”

“Duke Goko…”

“What!?” You both yell at her now, and she looks between you both, running off then, and you shove at Satoru, clinging your clothes to your exposed chest, glaring as he stomps toward you.

“You don’t want me. Remember?” You whisper, and he glares, pulling your hair again, shoving off your tattered dress. “You owe me a new one. Don’t touch me anymore! I don’t want your hands on me. Your mouth on me. I don’t!” You scream, crying again, swiping at your stupid tears.

“I just… I just…”

“I don’t want you. I don’t.” You smack him again, and he yanks you back against him, sliding his fingers up your cunt, and you moan, loud and wanton as he fingers you, and you’re shuddering, as he moans, watching your jaw go slack in pleasure, watching your eyes roll back.

“Don’t want me, Duchess? Fucking soaked.” His hushed words kill you, you’re dripping everywhere, sticky between your thighs, as Satoru consumes you.

“I don’t.” Your voice is so weak, pathetic, as your hips buck up, as he slides so damn deep in your eager cunt. You hate her reaction to him. “Go now, go f-fuck her. I hear you every night and it disgusts me, you disgust me.”

“And you disgust me. Opening your legs for a stranger like a stupid slut. Fuck…” He’s scissoring his fingers inside you now, rough and brutal, and fuck if you don’t want more of it.

You hate him. You hate him. You hate him.

“Good! Good, I’m glad I do. Ah, fuck!” You’re close to cumming then and there, so fucking embarrassing, you yank away, and your mouth drops when he shoves his fingers in his mouth, groaning and shutting his eyes. “Did you just taste me!?

“Yes I did. Jesus christ.” He gets on his knees then, and you gasp, as he buries his face against you.

“Wh-what, what the-”

“I’ll make an exception to taste that.” He moans out, looking up at you, and it takes everything to back away.

“Go practice on her. The only one you want.” You shove at him then, and he is just staring, so heartbreakingly beautiful. “You are cruel. You are evil.”

“I know.” Is all he says, blinking back emotions of his own with snowy white lashes. “Please… let me. Please… stop seeing him.”

“No, you wanted this. You wanted nothing of me. Now you’ll have it.” You turn then, running off and panting, up to your room, slamming the door, sliding down it and struggling to breathe.

You’re awful, how can you want him of all people? How, when you just had Nanami Kento, so sweet and loving, how could you want someone who smacks you, who slams you on tables. How could you ever want him? He doesn’t want you, he just wants to prove he’s so much better. It’s all a game to him, he cares nothing, a kiss changes nothing.

Nothing.

You will never kiss him again, you can’t, not when you…

You’re fully in your night shift soon, sighing as you look at the tattered remnants of your dress, and your throat is so tight you realize you must have coffee. You shakily walk out, passing by his door, and of course it’s cracked open, why wouldn’t it be, he’s so shameless. You see his Mistress clinging to him, and he’s naked, his body chiseled to perfection, bored look on his face.

The kiss meant nothing to him. It should mean even less than nothing to you, shouldn’t it.

“You were going to lick her… would you try that on me, Duke?” She asks then, and you roll your eyes, as you quietly watch, beyond your better judgment. He scoffs then, shoving her to her knees.

“Stop bringing her up. No, I will not, and it’s not your business.”

“It’s because she’s so beautiful…”

“Shut up. Now, you’ll service me, won’t you?” He caresses her cheek, and she nods eagerly, opening her mouth for him then. You tremble as you walk away, then you hear it, him whispering your name.

Did he see you!?

“Duke, why are you calling me that!… You want her!” She then coughs, and Satoru moans loudly, as your heart races, back pressed against the cold walls of the hallway.

“Shut your mouth now.” You palm your racing heart, that can’t be… it can’t be… not after…

You can’t breathe.

You tear yourself away, cursing yourself, cursing your existence, and every step gets heavier, it keeps getting harder and harder to breathe. You hate him, fuck you hate him. As he’s shoving his cock in someone’s mouth, and you’re wet from watching. You hate yourself. You hate your life. How could you, how could you?

Breathe.

As if it’s so simple.

You can not breathe here, it’s slowly sucking you away, and now it’s a million times worse, now you must shove these horrid feelings back, forget the way that stupid, cruel Duke makes you feel. The way his eyes looked when he begged you to stop seeing Nanami. But you won’t give in, you won’t fall for it, for whatever game he plays, you’ll play right back.

But one thing is certain, him whispering your name did wicked things, things you can’t even understand. Why did he? Why!?

Why can’t he let you have any happiness?

Breathe. How, when Satoru Gojo was suffocating you?

A/N: WELL THEN. It's just gonna get angstier and messier from here. Don't worry, reader isn't gonna stop seeing Mr. Nanami, and we're far from Gojo/reader having any sort of relationship. Stupid Duke. Also yes, deformed bunny, I HAD to

Part Five

#gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk gojo #kento nanami #nanamin #nanami x you #gojou satoru x reader #jujustu kaisen #duke gojo #bridgerton au #royalty au #arranged marriage #so much angst #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader smut

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