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wannab3-writer · 2 days

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Country Club Rivalry

PATRICK ZWEIG X CHILDHOOD FRIEND READER (some Art x reader)

NOTES : GOD, how I tried to make this an Art x Reader because I'm an Art GIRLIE, but Pat just had to come out on top for this one, truly…"

WARNINGS — 18 + content mdni, fem!reader, not proofread

wc: 5.3k

description:

When three friends work at the same country club, things are bound to get messy—especially when they have a bet about who can win over the reader first.

The Oakridge Country Club was bustling with its usual summer energy. Guests lounged by the pool, chatting under the striped umbrellas, while golf carts zipped along the winding paths. The sun blazed overhead, casting sharp shadows on the clay tennis courts where Patrick and Art were finishing their morning lessons.

You stood at the server station near the patio, jotting down drink orders on your notepad. It wasn't your first summer at the country club, but you still enjoyed the easy rhythm of the job—the way the breeze rustled through the trees, the laughter of kids playing by the pool, and the familiar faces of the regulars.

Patrick waved at you from across the tennis courts, his hair tousled from teaching. He was grinning like he always did when he'd just finished a good session. Art stood beside him, spinning his racket in his hand, looking relaxed and effortlessly charming.

"Hey, how's your section?" Patrick called, jogging over with Art trailing behind. He was wearing his usual tennis gear, white shirt, and shorts, with a blue visor to keep the sun out of his eyes.

"Pretty good," you replied, glancing at your notepad. "Mrs. Anderson is on her third mimosa, so I'm expecting a big tip."

Art laughed. "Better watch out, she's got a mean backhand when she's tipsy. I saw her smack a golf ball into the pond last week. Her caddie still hasn't recovered."

Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. "Classic Mrs. Anderson. Did you know she was a tennis champion back in the day? She could probably still give us a run for our money."

Art leaned in, lowering his voice. "Speaking of giving people a run for their money, I heard you've been racking up the tips lately. What's your secret?"

You shrugged with a playful smile. "Just being nice to people, Art. You should try it sometime."

Patrick laughed and nudged Art's shoulder. "Yeah, Art, maybe if you focused less on flirting with every guest and more on your job, you'd make some tips, too."

Art feigned shock. "Me? Flirting? I don't know what you're talking about." He turned to you with a charming grin. "Do you think I'm a flirt?"

You raised an eyebrow. "A little, but that's your thing, right? I mean, it's not like you're betting on who can get the most milfs phone numbers or anything." Clearly sarcastic.

Patrick shot Art a look, then quickly turned to you with a smile. "Yeah, nothing like that. We just... like to keep things interesting."

Art nodded, but you noticed a brief flicker of guilt in his eyes. It was subtle, but it made you wonder if there was more to their competition than met the eye.

"Well, whatever it is, just don't bring any drama into my section, okay?" you said, playfully tapping your notepad against Art's chest. "I've got enough to deal with without you two causing trouble."

Patrick raised his hands in mock surrender. "No drama, I promise. We'll be on our best behavior."

Art winked. "Scout's honor."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. Despite the teasing and the occasional competitive streak, you knew they meant well. It was just another summer at the country club, where the days were long, the sun was hot, and anything could happen.

Anything.

---

The Club had settled into its evening rhythm by the time you reached the bar. Fairy lights twinkled overhead, casting soft glimmers on the stone patio. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass. A live band played classic rock covers, the gentle strum of guitars mingling with the murmur of patrons relaxing after a day of golf and tennis.

Patrick was at a corner table, nursing a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He looked up from his phone and waved you over, a broad smile lighting up his face. He'd changed out of his tennis instructor uniform into a casual blue polo and jeans, his hair still damp from a quick shower.

"Hey, there you are!" he said, using his foot to pull out a chair for you. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."

You shook your head with a grin. "Please, I could hear your bad jokes all the way from the kitchen. Had to come and see what was so funny."

Patrick laughed, setting his phone aside. "You know I'm hilarious. You just pretend not to appreciate my sense of humor."

You took a seat and glanced around. The bar was lively but not overcrowded. A group of older couples was playing cards at a nearby table, and a few teenagers from the tennis program were playing darts in the corner. It felt like the perfect end to a busy day.

"So, what are we drinking tonight?" Patrick asked, gesturing to the menu. "I've got whiskey, but I hear the margaritas are pretty good."

You considered for a moment. "Let's go with the margaritas. I need something fruity after today."

Patrick flagged down the bartender, who quickly mixed up a pitcher of margaritas with a generous splash of tequila. He poured you a glass and handed it over with a mock bow. "Your drink, my liege. May it bring you all the fruitiness you desire."

You raised your glass with a chuckle. "Thank you, William,” you turn towards the brunet “To Patrick, who somehow managed not to break any tennis rackets today. It's a new record!"

Patrick clinked his whiskey against your glass. "And to you, for not spilling any drinks on Mrs. Anderson. She's still mad about last summer's 'mimosa incident.'"

You rolled your eyes, remembering the time you accidentally spilled a tray of drinks on Mrs. Anderson's white dress during a particularly hectic brunch. "Don't remind me. I had to run for cover like I was in a war zone. I thought she’d have my head.”

Patrick laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "You should've seen her face. It was like you'd ruined her entire day. But hey, at least you got to keep your job."

As the two of you shared stories and relived old memories, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the patio. The band transitioned to a slower song, adding a mellow vibe to the evening.

Art arrived a little later, his tennis gear replaced by a button-down snap back and jeans. He had a confident stride and a smile that seemed to draw attention wherever he went. He slid into the seat next to you, his presence bringing a shift in the energy at the table.

"What's up, party people?" he said, his voice smooth and inviting. "I hope you saved some margaritas for me."

Patrick handed him a glass. "Of course, wouldn't want our little Arty to feel left out.” He added leaning into Art smirking. “What took you so long anyways, Shelly needed some one-on-one time to work on her underhand? Or what. ”

You smirked. "You really think He’s that charming, huh?” she turns towards Art looking into his eyes “What’s your secret hmm? Is it the cologne?"

Art leaned in with a grin. "It's all about confidence. And maybe a little bit of cologne. But mostly confidence."

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Right, because confidence is what you exude. You should've seen Art on the tennis court today. He was so confident he almost hit a kid with a tennis ball."

Art raised an eyebrow. "Almost. That's the key word. No harm, no foul."

The banter continued, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm. Art's charm contrasted with Patrick's laid-back, cheeky style, and you found yourself enjoying the playful back-and-forth.

As the evening progressed, you noticed Patrick watching Art with a hint of unease. It was subtle, like a flicker in his eyes whenever Art made you laugh a little too hard or leaned in a little too close.

---

"All right, we're here. Try not to break anything, okay? Last time you were here, my mom couldn't find her favorite vase for a week."

Art smirked, stepping inside. "That wasn't my fault! How was I supposed to know it was on top of the fridge? Who puts a vase on the fridge, anyway?"

Art dropped his bag in his Patrick’s room and looked around. The place had an eclectic charm—walls lined with tennis trophies, faded concert posters, and family photos. A stack of video games sat beside the TV.

Patrick led the way into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge. He tossed one to Art, who caught it with ease. "So, what are you in the mood for? I was thinking pizza, but we can order something else if you're not into it."

Art popped open the bear and took a sip. "Pizza sounds good. Just no anchovies, okay? That stuff is nasty."

Patrick laughed, opening his own soda. "You're missing out, man. Anchovies are a delicacy." He grabbed the phone and dialed the pizza place, ordering a large with pepperoni and sausage. "There, something a bit more your speed. Happy now?"

Art nodded, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, that'll work. So, you ready for tomorrow? Two-on-two is serious business. We can't afford to slack off."

Patrick waved a hand dismissively. "Please, I'm always ready. Besides, we've got the advantage. I mean, have you seen the other teams? Half of them can't even hit a backhand."

Art chuckled. "You're so modest, Patrick. What would you do without me to keep you humble?"

Patrick shrugged with a grin. "Probably win more matches.”

Art threw a punch at Patrick's shoulder, and Patrick pretended to wince. They both laughed, the kind of easy camaraderie that came from years of friendship and shared jokes. But there was also a subtle tension in the air, like they were both aware of the unspoken rivalry that had been growing between them.

"So," Patrick said, leaning back against the kitchen island, biting his lip "you and […] seemed pretty chummy tonight. What's the story there? You trying to make a move, or what?" The familiar smirk making its way to his face.

Art raised an eyebrow, his expression guarded. "We're just talking. Nothing wrong with getting to know someone, right?" He finished wetting his lips.

Patrick smirked. "Sure, nothing wrong with that.” He shrugged. “But you're not just getting to know her. You're flirting, and we both know it." He took a couple steps forward “Basically eye fucking her, to be honest” He only smiled.

Art shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Oh, come on Pat, maybe, She's just fun to be around, you know. No need to be gross." Art gave him a wry smile. "You know me. I just go with the flow. If she likes hanging out with me, who am I to complain?"

Patrick leaned in, lowering his voice. "Or maybe, you think she's interested in you. Is that what this is about? You think you've got a shot?" His eyes scanning arts face.

Art met his gaze, his expression calm but with a hint of challenge. "I don't know, man. Maybe I do. What does it matter to you huh? You think you've got the inside track because you've known her longer?"

Patrick grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I mean, it doesn't hurt. We've got a lot of history. I'm charming, good-looking, and I've got the best jokes. What's not to like?" he goes back to lean on the counter. “Besides, I’ve seen the real her, all of it, kinda gives me a little advantage don’t you think.”

Art halts, stops chewing his gum, straitening himself up. “What’s that supposed to mean Patrick.”

“Exactly what it you think.” He kissed his teeth, kicking off the counter and going back to looking inside the fridge.

Art chuckled, but there was a hint of envy in his laugh. "Well, if you're so confident, maybe we should make it interesting. How about a little bet? See who can win her over first?"

Patrick waved his hand dismissively. "Little Arty wants a bet he’ll lose?” He chuckles. “No games. Just a simple bet. May the best man win."

Art held out his hand, and Patrick shook it with a grin. The bet was sealed, but there was an underlying seriousness in Art's eyes. As they waited for the pizza, the two friends continued their banter, but there was a new edge to their jokes—like the stakes had just gotten a little higher.

---

A week after their doubles match, the annual Oakridge Country Club gala was in full swing, the ballroom bustling with elegantly dressed members and guests. The chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting warm light onto the neatly set tables, while smooth jazz played in the background. You stood near the entrance, surveying the glamorous crowd, your fitted dress drawing approving glances from a few partygoers.

Art was the first to spot you, leaning against a wall with a cocktail in hand, chatting up club regulars. He was dressed in a sharp suit, but he carried himself with a boyish charm. His grin was wide as he motioned for you to come over, his eyes moving from your head to your heels in a way that felt like a visual undressing.

"Wow," he said, raising his glass, "you clean up nice. I was expecting you to show up in your waiter outfit or something. I'm glad you went with the dress, though. Much more... appealing."

You gave him a playful smirk, stepping up to the bar. "Thanks, Art. I do my best to impress." You glanced at his drink. "Are you trying to get a head start on the partying? We haven't even hit the dance floor yet."

He took a sip, his gaze lingering on your lips. "Hey, I like to loosen up a bit before the main event. Keeps things interesting. Besides, you can't blame a guy for wanting to enjoy himself, right? You gonna help me enjoy my night and keep me company?"

Patrick, who was laughing with a group nearby, walked over just in time to catch Art’s comment. He gave Art a look of mild disapproval, then turned to you with a sly smile.

"Don't listen to him. He's just trying to get you alone so he can talk your ear off about his latest tennis game.” Patrick shrugged, looking at Art with a smirk. "So boring. I was thinking we could have some real fun; you know? A little adventure never hurt anyone." He leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the music. "Besides, I know all the best spots around here. Private spots. You'd love it."

Art shook his head, clearly not amused. "Come on, Patrick. We're here to enjoy the gala, not to sneak off like we're in high school. Why don't we all just enjoy the party and see what happens?"

Patrick grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Art. But if you change your mind,” he turn towards her. “You know where to find me. I'll be the one having a good time." He turned to you with a suggestive wink while walking backwards to god knows where.

Art rolled his eyes, then smiled at you in a more relaxed manner. "Sorry about him, he’s not really allowed to leave the house. He's a good guy, but he doesn't always know when to tone it down. If you want, I can keep him from getting too out of hand. I wouldn't want him to scare you off." He says mocking Patrick as he walked away.

You laugh full heartedly glancing at Patrick, who was already chatting with a couple of other guests, his flirtatious demeanor on full display. " Thanks so for watching out for me. It can get a little overwhelming with him around." You continued smiling.

Art nodded smiling, his expression kind. " I was thinking we could get some food, maybe hit the dance floor. What do you think?" Art suggested, leading the way. "I'm sure Patrick will join us once he's done charming the entire room."

Patrick shot Art a mischievous look but didn't follow immediately. You could tell he was reveling in the attention, his flirtatious behavior attracting more than a few curious glances from the other guests.

The band switched to a slow, romantic melody, and Art extended his hand to you with a charming smile. "Care to dance?" he asked, his eyes warm and inviting.

You nodded, accepting his offer, and he led you onto the dance floor. His touch was gentle yet confident as he pulled you close, swaying to the music with practiced ease.

As you danced with Art, you felt yourself relaxing into his embrace. His presence was comforting, his movements smooth and graceful. You couldn't help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling a somewhat new sense of closeness.

Halfway through the song, Patrick appeared out of nowhere, a cocky grin on his lips. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

Before you could respond, he swept you away from Art, taking you into his arms with a boldness that made you some type of way. His touch was hot, his body pressed close to yours as he guided you across the dance floor.

"So, you replacing your best friend with that ginger?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive. "Boring you to tears yet?" He raised a brow.

You laughed, unable to resist his playfulness. "Hmm maybe. He's actually a great dancer, unlike some people."

Patrick smirked, pulling you even closer. "Yeah, but can he do this?" With a sudden flourish, he spun you around, his movements fluid and confident. "Do I need to remind you why I’m better.” He paused.

“How, I’m better.”

You chuckled rolling your eyes, enjoying the thrill of dancing with Patrick. He was unpredictable, to say the least, his smile contagious. But as much as you were drawn to him, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for leaving Art behind.

Patrick reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and offering you one with a sly grin. "Care for a smoke?" he asked, lighting his own with practiced ease.

You just shook your head with hesitant smile. “I really shouldn’t, Pat. You know I’m trying to quit.”

He looks you up and down with a seductive look.

“We’ve all got our guilty pleasures, darling.”

As the song came to an end, Patrick took your hand, leading you away from the dance floor and out onto the club’s private beach. The cool breeze off the ocean felt refreshing against your skin, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing.

You hesitated for a moment, then accepted the offer, taking the cigarette from him and inhaling deeply. The nicotine hit you like a rush of adrenaline, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as you exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air.

"So, what do you think?" Patrick asked, his eyes searching yours. "Having fun yet?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of liberation wash over you. "Yeah, I am. Thanks for... you know, stealing me away." You added motioning to the cigarette.

Patrick grinned, leaning in closer. "Anytime, sweetheart. Just say the word, and I'll whisk you away to paradise."

You laughed, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.

Patrick decided to sit down in the sand, his cigarette glowing in the darkness as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. You sat beside him, savoring the familiar scent of his cologne.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, then shot you a sidelong glance. "You know, I was just thinking about that first summer at tennis camp," he said, his voice low and playful. "I mean, it's where it all started, right? Just a couple of kids swinging rackets and making trouble."

You smiled at the memory. "Yeah, it's crazy to think about how much has changed since then. Who would've thought you'd actually make it big in tennis? Meanwhile, I could barely keep the ball on the court."

Patrick laughed, a warm, hearty sound that cut through the night air. "Yeah, well, I guess I had a little more motivation to stick with it. You were off climbing trees and playing in the woods, and I was stuck with a bunch of coaches yelling at me to hit harder."

"Hey," you replied with a smirk, "it's not like I was useless. I remember showing you all the best spots to hide when you wanted to skip practice."

Patrick nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I remember. You were the queen of avoiding responsibility. If it weren't for you, I'd probably have become a strait-laced tennis prodigy. Instead, you dragged me into the wilderness to make forts and find weird bugs."

You both chuckled, reminiscing about those lazy summer days when tennis camp was more of a suggestion than a requirement. But then Patrick's expression turned sly, and he leaned in a bit closer.

"Speaking of weird things from our past," he said, his voice dripping with playful insinuation, he nudged you. "You remember that bet we made? The one about if we were both green by the time you turned 16, we'd, you know, be each other's first?"

Your face grew warm at the memory. It had been a silly bet between two best friends who figured they'd never find anyone else in their small circle. But the fact that you followed through with it made it more than just a joke.

"Yeah," you replied, pretending to be nonchalant, "I remember, Pat we’re not that old. It was a dumb bet, but I guess we kept our word, didn't we?"

Patrick nodded, a cheeky grin spreading across his lips. "We sure did. And you know, I wasn't expecting it to be so... memorable. I thought we'd just laugh about it later, but it was kind of nice. You know, like a rite of passage or something."

You laughed, trying to deflect his innuendo. "A rite of passage? Yeah, right. More like a hilarious disaster. I mean, you had no idea what you were doing."

Patrick raised an eyebrow, his grin growing wider. "Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad. Besides, you were just as clueless. At least I managed to keep my cool, mostly."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile at his cockiness. "Mostly, huh? If I remember correctly, you tripped over your own shoes and nearly fell face first."

Patrick groaned, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Okay, maybe I was a little clumsy. But you have to admit, it was an experience neither of us will forget. And hey, we did it together. That's gotta count for something, right?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of nostalgia and fondness. "Yeah, it does. I'm just glad it didn't ruin our friendship. It could've been awkward, but it wasn't."

Patrick leaned in, his gaze locking with yours. "Of course it wasn't. We were best friends. We still are. And besides, even if it was a bit awkward, it was worth it. You know, just to say we did it." He flicked the ash from his cigarette, then added with a wink, "And hey, I was your first. That's something not everyone can say."

You laughed, pushing him lightly on the shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head. You still have a long way to go before you become a pro. But if you need any advice on how to avoid tripping over your own shoes, I'm here for you."

Patrick grinned, taking a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it into the sand. " If you ever want to make another bet, I'm always up for it. " He Looks at you seductively, his eyes full of mischief. " I think if you were to give me another chance, you’d find that I’ve improved quite a bit. " He gives you his signature smirk.

You scan his face trying to find sincerity in his words, not sure how you’d feel if he was. “What are you trying to get at Patrick?”

“Nothing at all.” He raised his hands in a surrender, cigarette in mouth looking away. “I’m just saying, I feel like I deserve a redemption arc,” He takes his cigarette putting out in the sand. “I wasn’t the most…giving you can say.” He looks back at you, under his brows. “And I just want to show you that I’ve changed, for the better.” He offers a smile.

You just nod your head in fake agreement. “Uhh, how much have you had to drink tonight pat? Is it time to call you a cab?” You questioned with a week smile.

“Oh, shut up, I’m dead sober.” He said leaning in. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Besides, what's life without a little adventure?"

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. It was a simple gesture, but there was something in the way he did it that made your heart skip a beat. Patrick had always had a way of pushing boundaries, but tonight, he seemed more deliberate, more intent.

"Adventure?" you replied, your voice slightly breathless. "Are you planning something?"

Patrick's smile grew, his eyes locking with yours. "Maybe. But you know me—always full of surprises." He stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your waist. "But I promise, it'll be a good one."

You felt a rush of heat at his touch, the closeness between you stirring something deep within. Patrick leaned in, his lips just inches from yours. "So, do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "No I don’t, Patrick, because I know you. Why? What are you up to?"

Patrick's gaze grew more intense, his eyes fixed on yours. "I just wanted to try something." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through you.

The kiss deepened, the heat between you building as Patrick pulled you closer. His hand slid around your waist, holding you firmly as he kissed you with a newfound intensity. The sound of the waves seemed to fade away, replaced by the pounding of your own heart.

Patrick's other hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle yet assertive. His kiss was slow and deliberate, each movement a carefully orchestrated dance that left you breathless. As his lips moved against yours, you felt a rush of desire, a connection that seemed to transcend words.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with emotion. He looked at you, his lips slightly parted, as if he was trying to read your thoughts.

“Show me.” You said looking him deep in his eyes barley a millimetre away from his lips.

“Show you what darling?” He question with a smile gracing his lips

“How you’re better than Art.”

That’s not what he was expecting at all. Maybe a ‘show me how you’ve improved.’ But certainly not you using his own words against him, That’s for sure.

That didn’t stop Patrick's smile from getting bigger though, as he moved his hands all over you, bringing you in for another wet and sloppy kiss. He slowly laid you down into the sand using his teeth to slide up your dress around your waits.

He slowly kissed your stomach stopping at the hem of your thong. Moving it to the side, he slides one of his digits up and down your slit.

Looking up to you with a sly smile, he lets out a contented sigh. " Give me some of this sweet pussy." With the excited flattening of his tongue, he dives right in, right there, on the beach. Before you even having a chance to fully lay down, Patrick slides his arms beneath your legs and pulls you in.

As you begin to grind into him and yearn for more of his tongue, you play with one of your tits. Suddenly too shy to look him in the eye, you reach down and tug on his hair. You can feel your cheeks getting hot with shame at how quickly you folded for him. “Tongue fuck me, please, Pat. When did you get so good at this?”

he consumes you. his hands are playing with your ass and thighs. He kneads the skin and spreading you out. He trust his tongue into your entrance and explores your pussy. Less than a minute later, your walls start to twitch around his tongue. He takes in all your cum. When he looks up back at you, he just gives you a sly smirk.

Patrick rolled onto his back beside you, his chest heaving slightly from the intensity of what just happened. You try to get your breathing back to normal when suddenly you let out a random laugh.

Patrick turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "What's so funny?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, but his face still wet from your essence.

You shrugged, trying to stifle your laughter. "I don't know, it just hit me—how did we end up here? One minute we're at the gala, and the next we're... well, doing this." You gestured at the beach, and your unruly appearance.

Patrick grinned, rolling onto his side to face you. "Maybe it's fate," he said, his voice soft and playful. "Or maybe it's just because I couldn't resist pulling you away for a little... private time." He winked, his cheeky grin only growing wider.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through your chest. "Or maybe it’s because you and Art have a weird little bet going on, and for some reason, I’m in the middle of it." you replied, a teasing edge to your tone.

Patrick frowns sitting up to look at you properly. " You know about that?" He’s confused.

You let out a chuckle. "Patrick, I’m not a dumbass, like i said, i know you. And i know Art, you guys have been total try hards for the last week, sure, you’re just a whore and will flirt with anything that has a vagina, but even Art was over doing it." You swatted at his shoulder, trying to hide your smile. "Patrick, seriously," you said, though your tone lacked any real reprimand. "You always push your luck, you know that? You leaned in a little closer, your eyes locking with his.

Patrick's grin softened, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Yeah, well, sometimes you need a little excitement," he replied, his hand resting on your hip, a gentle reminder of his presence. "And you can't deny that you like it when I take charge. Right?" His fingers traced a light pattern along your hipbone, his touch both playful and suggestive.

You sighed, the subtle tension between you becoming more palpable. "Maybe," you replied, your voice low and teasing. "But don't think I'll always let you get away with it. Sometimes, you need to earn it."

Patrick laughed, a deep, rich sound that seemed to carry on the breeze. "Oh, don't worry," he said, his eyes narrowing with that familiar mischievous look. "I'll work for it. You just let me know when you want me to turn on the charm." He leaned in again, his lips hovering near yours, the warmth of his breath a tantalizing invitation.

You closed the gap, letting his lips meet yours in a brief, soft kiss. It was playful but laced with an underlying intensity, a promise of more to come. When you pulled back, you saw the surprise in his eyes, followed by that trademark grin.

"Consider it a preview," you said, giving him a gentle nudge. "But don't get too cocky, or I’ll make sure you lose this bet."

------------------------

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exhaslo · 22 hours

Note

English is not my first language, so I hope I can speak it correctly. I imagined a story where the shy!reader has hot dreams about Miguel, and for some "reason" (Lyla), Miguel finds out and decides to tease the reader until everything ends in an NSFW way. I hope I have given you the idea within the appropriate terms.

Hehehe, no worries my friend. I know just what to write.

Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, teasing, slow sex, masturbation, fingering, wet dreams, overstimulation

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This obsession you were having with one of your co-workers was getting out of hand. You knew it was a long shot that you could ever have a chance with the one and only, Miguel O'hara, but you couldn't stop dreaming about him.

Miguel O'hara was the smartest man in Alchemax. He was in charge of nearly everything that had to do with genetics. Every woman wanted to be his, hell, even men wanted a piece of that hot ass.

You? You were part of ordering team. It was a blessing and a curse, mainly because you got to talk with Miguel a lot more than others. You had to get with him to see what materials he needed. You loved it, but also hated it.

Why?

Because each time you talked to Miguel helped you dream of him fucking you raw. His hands pinning your head down against your pillow as he plows you from behind. The thought of his dick filling you again and again made your pussy throb.

His husky voice whispering in your ear, asking you who you belonged too. His balls emptying out inside your womb, coating your walls white.

Drool nearly rolled down your lips as your fingers rested gently against your throbbing bud. Oh, how Miguel O'Hara made your mind wander to the dirtiest parts. It was difficult because you knew something as glorious as that could never happen.

When you got home, you had nothing better to do than record your thoughts. Unlike the past where people wrote in a diary, the year 2099 made things easier. You summoned your AI and set it to recording mode, ready to talk about your wildest fantasies.

"Ah, and when Miguel's hand grazed mind when he handed me the list...mhm...I couldn't help but think how those fingers would feel inside me. Why does he have to be so hot? I can't mutter a word to him about anything other than work!"

You whined and cried as you let your frustrations out in your virtual diary. It wasn't fair. You wanted Miguel to notice you as a woman. You wanted him to ask you out. To make you his.

But who knows whenever that will happen.

---------

Miguel was stuck in his lab, working on some late projects before calling it a night. As he worked, he recalled you. Smiling at how shy you were, Miguel leaned back in his seat. Out of all the girls who fawned over him, Miguel enjoyed you the most.

The way your cheeks turned bright red whenever he spoke was adorable. How you doze off and let your mind wander only made Miguel curious. What could you be thinking of when he was standing before you?

"Lyla, could you find a way to contact (Y/N)? I want to add something to the list." Miguel demanded.

"Hmm," Lyla appeared and started to work, "Oh, looks like she is in recording mode with her AI. Let me patch us in-"

"Ly'a, don't! That's her-"

"Hah, ah~ M-Miguel..."

Miguel froze as Lyla hacked into your recording AI. His eyes widen and cock harden as you laid on your bed, fingered working furiously against your clit. Your body arching as you whimpered moans and cries of his name.

"Ah~ R-Right there....mhm~ h-harder M-Miguel...f-fill me up~!" You cried out before reaching your orgasm.

Miguel shuddered in awe as he watched your pussy spasm and clench to air. Your breathing heavy as you laid down to rest. You took a moment to sit up, whining softly before complaining that you needed to stop thinking about Miguel since he could never be yours.

Oh how wrong you were.

Miguel had Lyla turn everything off. He logged out and hurried out of Alchemax. How could he work when there was a beauty such as yourself desperate for his dick? Miguel had been wanting to make you his since the moment you spoke to him.

Hopefully you were ready for him.

----------

You laid on your bed, sniffing your thoughts away. Your recording ended much differently than you would like. Luckily it was your own personal diary, but you still should probably delete it in case something ever happens.

Upon hearing a knock at your door, you scurried to grab a robe. Who could it be at this late hour? Poking through your door peep hole, you gasped as Miguel stood in front of your door. Hurrying to open, you nearly forget about your exposed self,

"M-Miguel?! W-What....What are you doing here?" You asked with a squeak.

"Sorry-" Miguel glanced down at you, "I, um...came here without thinking."

"Oh...Well..." You could feel your heart racing a mile a minute, "W-Why don't you come in...let me get you some water."

---------

How could you be so carefree? There you were, in nothing but a robe, after just fucking yourself to him. If Miguel didn't have his spider powers this might have been a different scene playing out. Oh, the temptation to pin you against the counter and fuck you stupid.

"Actually...I need to confess something to you."

Miguel needed to control himself. Perhaps he could tease you a bit about what he saw. Perhaps he could make this a bit more natural and playful.

"Lyla-My AI, may have accidently showed me something that is confidential for you." Miguel said as he cleared his throat. The blood had drained from your face,

"L-Like?!"

"Like," Miguel smiled as he hovered over your trembling body, "You crying out so sweetly."

"Ah!" You covered your face as it turned bright red. Miguel leaned down, chuckling lowly,

"Who would have thought those hands of yours could move so fast?"

"M-Miguel-"

"I couldn't help but feel awful for putting you in such a....position," Miguel nibbled against your ear, hearing you whine, "Such a quiet girl making those noises...how naughty."

-------

You could feel your head spinning as Miguel pressed his body against yours. The warmth of his body engulfing yours as his voice whispered against your ear. Everything about this scene was making you wet.

"How long have you been thinking about me?" Miguel chuckled as his hands circled around your waist,

"Mhm~ A long time," You admitted, feeling flustered by his teasing.

"Oh? Do you touch yourself like that every night?"

Your robe was starting to come undone as your body went on full display for Miguel. His head against your head, causing you to press your chest against his.

"Y-Yes," You stuttered.

"How naughty."

Miguel chuckled once more as he kissed your neck. Your robe had fallen on the floor and Miguel's hands were firmly on your waist. His leg pushed forward, causing your pussy to sit against it. You whimpered a whine as he kept pushing his leg against your wet cunt.

"What an honest body," Miguel hummed as his hands grouped your breasts, "And here I was about to ask if you want me to stop."

"No." You begged before tugging against his sleeve, "Please...Please fuck me."

-------

This was heaven on earth. Never had you thought this moment was ever going to happen.

However, you expected it a lot faster and rougher than this.

"A-Ah~ M-Miguel~~" You cried out.

Miguel was hovered over your naked body like a god. Your legs were thrown over his shoulder and his cock was deep inside you. Miguel's body was even more perfect than you ever dreamed of. His dick was far bigger than your wildest dreams.

"Hm? Don't like it slow?" Miguel chuckled lowly as he slowly pulled out with a grunt, "Your pussy is sucking me in so much. Thought I give it a nice treat."

"Hah~ s-so deep..." You whimpered as he pushed himself back in.

Miguel's slow movements was making your body heated. The tight knot in your stomach was far different from what you've ever done to yourself. His dick was kissing every part of your pussy you didn't even know existed.

"Awe, about to cum?" Miguel asked as you shivered from his slow thrust.

You wanted him to ravish you. You wanted him to make you see stars, not make you go crazy. Gasping as Miguel rubbed your clit, you cried as you gushed all over his cock. Your walls sucking him in more, begging for him to fill you.

Miguel could only chuckle as he kissed your body. His hands roaming everywhere as you calmed down from your high. Miguel pressed his hips closer, hitting you deeper than what he was prior. You flung your head back, moaning in pleasure.

"Is this everything you've ever dreamed of?" Miguel asked with a soft pant.

"Mhm~"

You were squirming slightly as Miguel continued his slow, yet deep thrusts inside you. Your vision was slightly blurry as your body started to shiver, but you could have sworn that Miguel was groaning. He wanted to go faster too.

"M-Miguel...y-you can...mhm~ go r-rough~" You cooed. Miguel licked your neck, biting against it softly,

"You better not regret it then."

Before you could say a word, you gasped and moaned loudly as Miguel's pace became rough. His dick slamming into your gummy walls, making loud lewd sounds filled the room. Your juices soaking the bed sheets under you as he kept hitting that sweet spot you've gone nuts over.

Your moans became loud and pornographic as Miguel gave you no time to rest. You had cummed again, coating his cock white as he continued to ram into you. You body shaking and jolting with each thrust as your sensitivity grew.

"How lewd," Miguel groaned against your ear as his hips slapped into yours, "Don't know bout you, but I wouldn't mind getting used to this."

"Ah~ Mhm~ Y-Yes!" You cried out.

Miguel chuckled as you started to arch your back. Your expression getting more expressive as you started to get fucked out. Biting his lower lip, Miguel grunted as he bottomed out inside of you. His eyes sparkled as your mouth made a cute 'o' form.

"Now, how could I stop with just one?"

You gasped, gripping onto the bedsheets as Miguel flipped you over. Your head pressed against the pillow as he went balls deep inside you. Your body shaking in rhythm to his rough thrusts as you enjoyed the feeling of his cum pouring inside you.

"Ah~ Mig~"

You were in heaven. All you could focus on was how good your pussy felt with each thrust. How good Miguel was at hitting each sweet spot you had. You shook in pleasure as you felt Miguel cum inside you again, groaning to your moans.

"(Y/N), next time you think of me....call me so I can show you how to feel good."

"Yesh~" You cooed.

-------

Miguel chuckled as you fell asleep after his last load. Honestly, he could keep going with his stamina, but you weren't ready for that yet. Carefully picking you up, Miguel made sure to wash you up and change your bedsheets before tucking you in.

He may have went a little overboard. But you didn't mind. Smiling as he covered you in the blanket, Miguel kissed your head before heading out.

"See you tomorrow, (Y/N)."

Of course, Miguel took your panties home as a souvinier.

You weren't the only one who had wet dreams.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!

#spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel o'hara

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actuallyjustabiscuit · 3 days

Text

I’ve been dissecting Ragatha’s character with surgical tools because I am not the least bit normal about this damn doll, and something that I’ve gathered upon rewatch is how much responsibility Ragatha has been taking for Pomni’s first day. Prepare for another character analysis about everyone’s favorite confirmed girl failure

Useless Lesbian jokes aside, it’s so interesting to me how much Ragatha cares about Pomni liking her. To the point where she believes Pomni’s terrible awful no good very bad first day has some relevance to how she thinks Pomni thinks of her.

At first I thought this was just the result of her people pleasing tendencies that needs everyone to like her for her to have any degree of self worth (no I’m not projecting, shut up), but she doesn’t seem to be this pushy about getting along with anyone else.

Another possible reason for this behavior was that she just wants to make the newcomer feel as comfortable and welcomed as possible to lessen the blow of being trapped, and she’s doing such a bad job of it that it’s making her think less of herself for failing. But here she’s specifically talking about the “horrible experience” of having to deal with Kaufmo’s abstraction.

Here Ragatha is literally writhing in pain from glitching after getting her ass handed to her by Kaufmo and she briefly stops Pomni from leaving to get the help she needs to apologize to her about having a bad first day.

Honestly, Pomni’s awkward response to this was hella fitting.

Like, Jesus Christ, Ragatha. Priorities girl.

When I first watched this, I thought her little apology fell under the same category as someone apologizing for hearing bad news, (y’know like a “I’m sorry your dog died” kinda thing) said in a way to express sympathy over a bad situation. But in episode 2, it really feels like she actually blames herself for what happened.

and I think I know why.

It was Ragatha’s idea to go see Kaufmo in the first place and introduce Pomni to him. We know that she honestly believes that participating in the adventures are essential to persevering a person’s sanity. And yet she didn’t suggest to play along with the game Caine left for them. Instead, she thought it would be nice to check up on a friend who was suspiciously absent. And was, according to what Kinger told them before they left, slipping off the deep end.

I know hindsight is 20/20, but these should have been major red flags for her that Kaufmo may not have been alright and they should’ve all probably stayed away. And I think she realized that too late, which is what might’ve led to that awkward apology to Pomni in the hallway.

Kinger is right to reassure her that Pomni doesn’t blame Ragatha for what happened (which is why she thought Ragatha was being weird for apologizing in the first place), but I imagine Ragatha is the type of person who can’t help but dwell on the “should’ve, would’ve, could’ve”s of life. So it makes sense that she would continue to take things personally. And I bet it got even worse after

…yeah. That.

Of course, I don’t think Ragatha could’ve known that was gonna be the outcome. But she was very wary when Pomni suggested it, loudly wondering if that was even “allowed”. But she went along with it cuz it made Pomni happy.

Whelp.

Yeah this woman’s self esteem so about to go into the negatives. Which is why I’m really hoping for a good heart-to-heart between these two. Cuz they both really need it. Ragatha especially.

I think it would really help her to know Pomni wouldn’t want her to feel like less than nothing.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc ragatha #ragatha #character analysis #Wet dog coded Ragatha has all my love #She tries so hard and fails so miserably #Literally had this in the back of my mind all day at work and now I’m finally released until the demons drag me back

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danytar · 2 days

Note

More Daddy Aegon plsss!! 😫😫😫😫

“ Home is where my dragons is ꪆৎ”

Pairing: Soft!Daddy!Aegon!Targaryen X Targaryen!Wife!Reader’

Warnings: Incest,fondle breasts,domesticity, before the dance,a reference to the sex but without smut

a/n: This time you are free to think about pairing I will leave it to your imagination ‘Sister! Niece! Cousin’ it's up to you, hope you like it! ✨.

“Jaehaerys! How many times do I have to tell you? Don't run barefoot!” You gasped between your breathless breaths and paused for a moment to catch your breath,You tired of running after your naughty son in the red keep gardens.

“JAEHAERYS!! ” you yelled, holding your dress chasing him so he would stop running around in the mud, in the gardens, Your son was very active and a troublemaker and he doesn't listen to you at all, well at least he listen to his father.

“Catch me first mummy”. the little boy chuckled running away from you, your face softened, he was too cute, damn that boy had your heart. even aegon would never have the same affect.

“come back here little brat!” you yelled, still chasing him trying to catch him. aegon didn't help. he just stood there, leaning on a tree, watching you two.

You tripped over the hem of your dress and fell on the muddy ground so that your hair and dress got dirty, aegon laughed at you and he immediately broke out of his own moment and started heading towards you. Jaehaerys thought it was a game and laughed.

“get over here you!” you said to your son as aegon came to help you up.you stood up, dirty. your face was dirty, you were dirty, your dress was dirty. your husband looked at you like you were the most attractive thing he had ever seen.

“come here” he said, opening his arms for you, You roll your eyes, cross your arms and pucker your lips with a cute frown to him, aegon can't help but chuckles softly at your cute reaction.

he extended his hand to help you up, he did have a beautiful smile, his smile and eyes always made you melt but not today, he was looking at you, concerned.“are you okay?” he asked in a low gentle voice.

“Maybe I would if you helped catching your naughty son.” You whine softly, aegon sighed and then he smirked, “catch your own little boy”he teased, you sighed and looked at him, for the first time he hadn't helped you get up. “you can't even help me get up”you mumbled, wiping the mud off your dress.

Aegon chuckled, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you up, “happy?” he asked with a smile, he took your muddy hands and kissed them.

“here,” he said as he took your hands and started wiping the mud off them.

You smiled and looked at him, finally something good happened this morning instead of chasing your son through the red keep like crazy, he smilied back and gave you a short kiss on the lips.

“My dirty princess”. he teased and chuckled.

“Shut up ”.

He looked at Jaehaerys who was still running around in the lawn,“I guess I should get him”. aegon muttered and started walking towards him, aegon kneeled next to jaehaerys, and he held back a chuckle as jaehaerys started running away from him.

aegon was a lot more patient than you were when it came to his son's antics, he wasn't as good as parenting as you were, but jaehaerys loved him. the boy always ran to him, a grin spreading on his little face when he saw him.

aegon chuckled as his son laughed and ran circles around him,you couldn't understand how he would let this misbehavior go unpunished.

He didn't scold him, he let him play around and didn't take action until he got a muddy hand print on his cheek. he just grinned as his son ran around him, aegon finally caught him and picked him up, placing him on his hip.

aegon smiled when he turned around and saw you aproaching, he looked at you and he immediately thought how beautiful you looked even dirty. he leaned in and kissed your muddy mouth.

Jaehaerys complained loudly “It's disgusting! you are disgusting dad”. aegon chuckled when he saw his son's disgusted face, jaehaerys hated physical affection but at least Jaehaerys was a daddy's boy.

He gave you another smooch before setting jaehaerys back on the ground, "let's go wash up." he said, as Jaehaerys screamed, "no".

Aegon smirked, Jaehaerys screamed,“MAMA NO SHOWER!” he yelled, your husband chuckled, “he says no“ he said teasingly.

“Oh Gods!!, why are you so stubborn?”

aegon laughed, his son had inherited your stubborness, “he's stubborn like his mother”. aegon teased, jaehaerys screamed his head off when you picked him up, “no shower“ he kept yelling at the top of his little lungs.

You ignored your son's protests and you and your husband walked into the red keep again, the three of you were dirty and covered in mud, it was a really funny sight not to mention that all the nobles who passed by were staring at the three of you.

When you arrived at your rooms, the nannies immediately took your son to wash him out of the mud, After you and your husband were left alone with a bathtub waiting for you, he immediately undressed himself and sat down in the warm tub.

He looked at you with a smug smile waiting for you to do the same thing, You took off your dirty dress gladly and then got into the tub with him, You were face to face, his handsome face was staring at you with all love and attention he had as if you were the last and dearest thing left for him.

He slowly approached you and then tucked your flying locks behind your ear, his gentle and soft touch made your whole body tremble, then he grabs your chin to make you look into his bright eyes.

Those eyes that have never lied to you or let you down, and it never will.. His looks were your weakness and he knew it, You can meditate on it forever without getting tired or bored of it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck slowly and gently while he tied his lips to yours, his hand went to your neck, his fingers grazing lightly the nape of your neck.

his other hand cupped your face, your hair covering his wrist and arm, his hand went down to your waist, he tightened his embrace on you and pulled you close again.

he kissed you again, slowly and lovingly, he didn't want to stop, his lips were pressed against yours, his tongue moved inside and he deepened the kiss.

he didn't want to stop, your neck and back were against his warm chest and his hand on your waist, he wanted his lips and tongue to continue until he could no longer breathe.

after a long time of passionate kissing, aegon finally leaned back, he looked at you, slightly panting and breathless,

his hands still touching you, lightly rubbing your back, he looked at you and smiled, “I love you”. he murmured as he kissed you again,“mmf.. I love.. you too”. You moaned against his lips.

That soft moan had Aegon wanting you even more. You had driven him crazy with just your soft moans, Aegon moaned in your ear, his warm breath tickling your ear, His fingers slipped to play with your breasts. In contrast.

At the same time, he was kissing your neck, leaving little light glances of playful nibble that drove you crazy.

Meanwhile, his fingers started tracing a circular pattern around your nipples, your soft skin was sensitive to his touch, the sensations of pleasure building up inside of you had you biting your lip as you let him to.

Aegon was slowly driving you crazy and he wasn't going to stop,he pulled you in even farther, his long and warm arms wrapping around you. He put his face close to yours and whispered softly in your ear.

“Get ready for me,delicious little wife, because I planning not letting you walk again”.

♡ – 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @darylandbethfanforever9 @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii @fragileheartbeats

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gxtfictx · 3 days

Text

ciao, bella! - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

summary: you love your polyglot girlfriend TW: smut, oral sex, dirty talk, language kink (i don't actually speak Italian so i apologize for any possible mistakes), hair-pulling, i think that's it A/N: requests are welcome! i still have some drafts to finish first tho. Like and reblog, any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated! <3

The hours seem to pass so slowly when there's nothing you can do.

You're sitting on one of those uncomfortable chairs on that bullpen, a cup of coffee running cold on your hand. Staring at te board with all the names and pictures, you were starting to memorize it.

Morgan and Emily enter the room, the main suspect handcuffed and struggling to get away from Morgan's hard grip. Emily takes er bulletproof vest off to enter the interrogation room, you and Hotch following behind. She happened to be the only one who spoke italian on the team, so this one was hers.

You had profiled the unsub as the classical sexist, misogynist, scared of women over 130 pounds, or like you liked to call them- the unresolved mommy issues type.-

Your girlfriend was gonna eat him up alive, and you could not be more proud.

Morgan and Emily enter the room, he tells him to sit down, which he does seem to understand. Hotch and you watch the scene from the other side of the glass, your eyesnever leave Emiy, she carefully reads the file, in complete silence, making him nervous, until she starts speaking.

You certainly weren't expecting it, although you should've. It wasn't the first time you heard her speak other languages. Arabic, Russian, even Spanish, she always sounded so smooth, mysterious even, but there was just something about this exact moment, the way she challenged him, antagonized him, it was easy to tell she had complete control of the conversation despite that you could not understand a single word of what nether of them was saying.

Your braking point is when they start an argument, you cant really tell what it's about but she shoots from her seat, hitting the table hardly with a strong hand, you excuse yourself. You had to get out of there if you wanted to be able to finish the day.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

it takes you less than a second when she closes the door of your shared hotel bedroom behind herself, to wrap your arms around her waist, connecting your mouth to hers, pushing her body against the door.

"wow, not that I'm complaining but, what's got you all riled up?" she asks, a big smile on her face, the second you separate to catch your breath

"nothing... it's just..." you doubtfully say, her eyes scanning you, going from your eyes, to your lips, back to you eyes, both of you heavy breathing into each other.

"c'mon, spit it out" she says, leaving soft pecks on your lips to get you to talk

"just you, your voice" you confess "you know... when-"

"you like hearing me speak Italian?" she finishes for you, grabs you by your waist, and switches places with you, now she's pushing you against the door, running her hands down your back, reaching your ass giving it a gentle squeeze which makes you jump in your place.

"a little bit" you admit. Emily grins, cocky and gorgeous, she slips her hand into your pants and underwear, running two gentle fingertips up your center, collecting your slit, she shows you her hand, a proud smile on her face, you squirm underneath her touch

"this doesn't look like a bit to me" she kisses your cheek, your neck, you bring your lips to hers, your tongue slipping over her lower lip, in the desperate attempt that she’ll grant you access "Questo è quello che volevi?" you cannot control the moan that escapes your lips, her voice is soft, smooth, it makes you feel things, you kiss her again, this time she complies, granting you access.

She pushes you even harder against the door, her free hand finds its way underneath your shirt, you're not wearing a bra which gives her free access, she lets her fingers dance over your sensitive nipples, your breath becoming quicker with each passing second. “Please, Emily, I-” you got cut off as she sharply took one of her nipples into her fingers and twisted it, the pain quickly turning into pleasure

"what's that? or, should i say che dici?" you can't form any coherent words, you just let out a deep breath, grabbing you by the waist, she forces you onto the bed, her hips aggressively sitting on top of yours

"aww, la mia bambina è nervosa perché le piace che parli italiano?" she's loving the teasing, she loves making you nervous but mostly she loves how worked up she's getting you with only a couple of words.

She placed soft kisses all over your breasts, her lips wrap around your nipple, licking the rosy bud, her teeth softly tugging and nipping the sensitive area, you moan in pleasure.

Finally, she moves her mouth down, placing soft kisses all over your stomach, filling it with butterflies. She unbuttons your pants, aggressively taking off your underwear with them.

Even though you had her exactly where you wanted her, she was still too clothed. You pull on her shirt, hoping to get the message across, as your mind was all nice and fuzzy, she just put her hands up, so you could clumsily remove her shirt, leaving her in her bra and workpants.

"Em, please, just please" you cry desperately for her to finally finish what she started. You moan out as she forcefully shoved a finger up your dripping pussy, licking a strap long of your slit.

"ti piace questo tesoro?" you know you're in for a long ride, now that she knows that you like her Italian, she will be taking advantage of it, not that you're complaining, obviously.

"I don't understand a word of this, but it's working" you say, closing your eyes in pleasure, your hands pulling on her hair, in a desperate attempt to pull her closer to where you needed her the most.

She was going slow just lapping up your juices, her tongue enjoying the taste of you, how drenched you were. Her lips finally met your clit, licking over the bundle of nerves, sucking the hardened bud.

"Oh fuck, yes baby don't stop" She began fucking you faster and harder, using her fingers, loving the wet sounds your pussy was making around them. Her fingers curled at the perfect spot inside you making your eyes roll back into your head. Her mouth sucking on your clit, her fingers drilling roughly into your pussy was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please, Em, I'm going to-"

"andiamo tesoro, puoi venire" you can only assume that's her way of approving, you came all over her mouth, her fingers, she lets you ride your high, and then collapses over you, laying on your side.

You open your eyes and see her laying next to you, playing softly with a strand of your hair, you need to catch your breath before you can return the favour.

"Who would've said that it would only take me speaking Italian to make you this horny ugh?" she asks, a playful grin on her face.

"It's just something about the accent i think, or maybe just the way you sound, i don't know, but you looked so sexy in the interrogation room today" you try to explain

"Well lucky for you, i'm fluent" you move to kiss her lips

"however there's someone else who can also speak Italian, right?" your mouth falls open when you realize what she means "OH! No, Emily! Why did you have to bring Rossi up now? You're ruining it" you close your eyes trying to erase that image from your head, Emily giggles "I'm sorry! C'mon, Scusa, amore mio, ti amo" she kisses you cheek, your lips, your face "Ok that one i know what it means" you hold her face in your hands, trapping her lips between yours, kissing her in return, her voice and herself the only thing on your mind again.

"C'mon baby" you straddle her hips "It's your turn, tesoro"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

#emily prentiss #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss lesbian #emily prentiss x reader #lesbian #wlw #lesbian pride #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #emily prentiss smut #smut #paget brewster #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss x reader fluff

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academiaviktor · 3 days

Text

[pining, returned affection, nsfw, penetration, cum kink?, mentions of belly bulge, boyfriend Choso]

[wc: 2k]

[Continuation of this post]

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

With anything unrelated to his brothers, Choso was mostly unbothered. Half the time, he didn’t know what he was doing or what he was supposed to be doing.

He only knew his younger brother Yuji was doing his best to acclimate him to normal human society.

He also knew that Yuji was his direct line to you.

The incredibly talented jujutsu sorcerer he introduced him to that one day. The day that altered his perception of everything.

That was the first time he had been bothered in a different way. A good way.

At least, he eventually came to realize it was good.

At first, his heart was beating so fast in his chest that it started to worry him. He wasn't sure what was happening, or why he was finding it hard to breathe just from looking at you. Just from receiving a warm smile from your lips.

Of course, Choso could feel human emotions. He typically felt only a slim few, and all had to do with his brothers. Otherwise, he was apathetic. Uncaring. He was a tool to be used, and a shield for his brothers.

But you? You made him feel everything at once in the most agonizing way. You seemed to offer him the complete human experience by uttering only a few pleasant words of greeting.

Afterward, Yuji gave Choso a similar shpiel to Fushiguro's—don't bother. She may be incredibly friendly and kind, but you'll never have her.

Choso never let those words sink into his skin. He was too stunned to even understand what was happening to him.

But after that day, his heart burned in a way it never had before. He just wanted to see you again. To hear you speak, even if he was too anxious to say anything back. He needed to be near you, and that urge became so strong, he found himself jumping at the chance to join Yuji and his friends whenever they went somewhere fun, all for the chance that you might be there.

Luckily, you typically were if you had the spare time. And god, Choso was getting more sick every time he saw you. At least, that was how it felt.

Boba shops, cafes, cinemas, carnivals, and everything in between, if you were there, so was he. If you were smiling and laughing, so was he.

Choso didn't know the first thing about love, and there was something about it that scared him.

But when your flirtations became more physical—the brush of your arm against his, linking together arm-in-arm to whisk him somewhere interesting, or when your fingers would just barely touch—Choso could feel himself crumbling.

That heart of his, once only warm for his brothers, was beginning to beat at a different rhythm. It was syncing up with yours, whether he knew it or not.

When it became too much, that was when he approached Yuji.

He did his best to hide how much his hands were trembling even while he spoke to his brother about you, and his throat felt impossibly dry.

"Hey...um, Yuji?"

Yuji hardly looked up from the movie he was fixated on. "Yeah?"

Choso swallowed back his apprehension, aware that he had no experience of his own, but his younger brother grew up with humans and their strange emotions. Surely he would understand.

"What does it mean when your heart beats strangely around someone, or if you get nervous around them?"

Yuji shrugged. "Usually that means you like them."

Choso furrowed his brows together. "Like them?"

"Mhm. You can like someone in a friendly way and be normal around them, but if you're not, then that means you like like them. You know?" Yuji explained, still watching the tv. "If you really like them, then you probably want to be near that person, or hold them or something."

Choso kind of understood what this like like was, but he didn't understand why it hurt. Why it burned and ached.

But he did know that feeling existed inside of him for you.

"I think I like y/n then."

Yuji went quiet for a moment, then he mumbled, "Are you sure?"

Choso scratched the back of his neck, feeling as warmth moved into his face. "I enjoy being around her, and as you said, I'd like to be near her more. I wouldn't mind holding her too. What should I do?"

He assumed Yuji was only considering the options, not completely breaking on the inside. He had no idea his younger brother was actively pushing back the urge to explode on him.

"...you should ask her how she feels..." Yuji began, forcing the words out. "And if you're serious, ask her out on a date."

Unaware of the nuances of these kinds of things, Choso came out with it one day when he couldn't handle it anymore. When you smiled that smile at him and reduced him to a sappy version of himself he was unfamiliar with.

"How do you feel?" He questioned, walking alongside you on an aimless stroll around campus. His heart was in his throat, and he felt like screaming from how nervous he was.

You let out a humored sound. "I feel okay, I guess? Thanks for asking, Cho."

Cho. That nickname you gave him always made his head go woozy.

So much so that he almost didn't realize you misunderstood his question.

"Er...I mean...maybe I remembered it wrong," he murmured to himself, trying to recall Yuji's advice. His skin was growing hotter as he tried to get it right in his head.

"You all right?" You asked, growing concerned as you took in his fluster.

Not walking anymore, and face to face, Choso found himself desperate for the right thing to say. He tried to wrack his brain, aware that he might not have that chance again.

Ask her out on a date.

Those words hit him, and Choso brightened with a sheepish smile.

"Would you like to go somewhere with me...on a date?"

Your smile eased the burning fear he had in his chest. "Sure, I'd love to. I'm free right now if you already have a place in mind."

Your acceptance was the first sign of hope he needed, and to his relief, the date went better than he expected. After that, multiple other one-on-one outings happened, and before long, Choso found himself uttering the words he never expected to leave his lips.

"I love you..." Choso heaved, gripping your hips as he bucked into you, watching as his cock slipped inside of you again and again. He watched how your arousal made a cute ring around him, and how you seemed to take him so well. So eagerly. "I-I love you...I love you..."

It left his mouth like a chant as he rammed into your soaked pussy, in lustful agony over how perfectly you squelched for him.

As much as you wanted to say it back, you were too far gone already. He made you cum twice already, and he was desperately chasing after another.

But he didn't mind how you couldn't say it. You were already fucked dumb by him, and he knew the way you clenched around his length said it all.

From in his lap while you gripped the couch with one hand and held yourself up with the other against his chest, skin already slick with sweat and warm to the touch, you looked ethereal to him. Head tipping back with a slack jaw, body angled so that he had a perfect view of your tits, the sight of you alone was enough to have him bordering his next orgasm.

"Fuck—" Choso groaned, gripping harder and relentlessly sending his throbbing cock back into you, hypnotized by your velvety walls. "You're perfect...fucking perfect..."

Your moans sent shivers right through him as he squeezed you tight, unable to choke back his whimpers and gasps for breath.

Choso was normally so well composed and visibly unaffected by most things, but every time he found himself inside you, he became insatiable. Whiny and stumbling over his words. You just felt so impossibly good around him, sucking him in and embracing his cock with pure love and adoration.

He knew you had him in a vulnerable position. He knew you had far too much power over him, but he didn't care.

Choso knew what it felt like to fuck you raw, and it was impossible for him to be without it.

"...C-Cho..." you barely managed to say, trying to hold on through his relentless thrusts. It was hard to believe you had been the one riding him initially. You had been the one fucking him until he couldn't take it anymore, and he needed to let that unwavering desperation out.

Fuck, you were too much. Too compliant with his movements. Too whimpery. Too fucking perfect.

"Jus' hold on, baby," Choso mumbled gruffly, using everything he had left to push you closer to the edge. "One more...please. Give me one more—"

He nearly choked at the feeling of your plush walls clenching around him, milking him for everything he had. Heaving in his frantic breaths, he dropped a thumb to trace messy circles against your clit.

"I'm s' full already..." you babbled, eyes closed as more pleasure swept through you while his thick girth stretched you so completely.

"I-I know," he stuttered, pulling you down to force his cock against your cervix, ramming again and again as he admired the slight bulge in your belly from him. "Jus' one more. Fuck, baby. I need to fill you again—need you to take it like a good girl..."

The mix of skin slapping and your broken moans filled the room, emphasized by the mess already between your bodies.

His cum was everywhere already, but god, Choso loved it. He loved how it glistened against your skin and how it sounded when he shoved his cock back into you, bringing it along for the ride.

It was a reminder of how much you affected him. How your perfect pussy could make him cum over and over again, and he'd still be aimlessly begging for another.

Watching your eyes roll back as your whole body convulsed through your next orgasm was always enough to make him crack. Watching the woman he loved reach that state of euphoria all because of him was all he needed to slam his hips into yours one last time as he struggled to breathe, gripping and clutching you for dear life.

Like the perfect woman you were, you'd take another bout of his cum. Still just as abundant and enthusiastic, he'd shoot his thick ropes inside you, only adding to the mess of sticky fluid between you.

Choso's head always lulled back whenever he came, so drunk off how incredible it all was to be edging blackout territory.

Full of his cum and too exhausted to keep yourself up, you slumped against him while you both caught your breath. Instinctually, Choso wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close so that he didn't have to miss a second without you.

"T-thank you, baby," Choso whispered, mustering just enough energy to run a lazy hand up and down your back.

He didn't know when it started, but it was an endearing thing he tended to do whenever you entertained his belligerent deviancy. Whenever he'd fuck you way past the point of overstimulation, and yet, you'd still let him fill you with another load.

In every way, you were perfect. Far too perfect for him.

But still, all the while he tried to bring himself back down again, he silently thanked his brother for introducing you two. For bringing the love of his life to him, and making it all possible.

#choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #kamo choso #choso/reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 1 day

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Prewar!Cooper told Barb that one of his favorite things about her was the fact that she always tries to do the right thing. The Ghoul is entertained by Lucy's "goody two-shoes" thing, at first, but is clearly very deeply impacted by the kindness that she shows him outside the Super Duper Mart.

Cooper Howard obviously likes good girls...corruption kink, anyone?

Prewar!Cooper would be sweet about it, even gentlemanly. He'd be respectful, slowly warming you up to all these ideas that you've never even heard of before. Of course, you trust him implicitly, and you're happy to go where he guides you. He would get a sense of the things you're into, what your boundaries are, but once he knew you well enough, he might start to nudge you in certain directions.

Taking you for a drive, his hand on your thigh slowly slipping higher until he's rubbing you through your underwear as you go along, working you up to an orgasm at a red light in full public view, completely aware that everyone can tell what's happening. Going for a long walk in a nice park and pulling you into the bushes for "a few smooches" that turn into you deep-throating his cock until you almost pass out. Pushing you into poorly soundproofed closets at fancy parties to turn you into a squealing mess on the end of his cock, too loud for others to not hear. It's all so addictive and you're powerless to stop yourself from giving into him wherever and whenever, slowly turning you into a little exhibitionist because he thinks it's hot.

"Oh, I know how much you like this, sweetheart...what if I tried this? Does that feel good? Sure seems like it does. You don't have to be embarrassed. I'll take care of you. You trust me, right, baby doll?"

The Ghoul would be...meaner. He's more the "don't ask for permission; beg for forgiveness" type, but without the begging part. He'd just go for things, watching in almost sadistic glee as your face would morph from shock to disgust to ashamed arousal. You would be able to sense something different in the air, but you never see his dirty tricks coming. Does this stop you from continuing to sleep with him as you trek the West together? Of course not. As much as you might hate him a little (or a lot) for it, he knows exactly what makes you tremble and beg for more, even as your face reddens and you struggle to look at him.

Sliding his tongue back to tease your asshole when he's eating you out like a man starved, laughing wickedly and holding your hands away when you try to stop him because 'That's so gross!', but soon your protests turn to wanton moans. Hell, sliding his thumb into your ass as he fucks you from behind, using the leverage to bounce you harder on his hips, the sensation amazing despite how humiliating it feels. The next time he fucks you that way, you whimper out a little plea for him to do it again. Making you beg him to spit in your mouth as you near your orgasm until he no longer has to prompt you, you simply open your mouth. He gets off on getting you to request (or even beg for) disgusting treatment.

"Oh, did you not like that? With the way this greedy little cunt is reacting, I'd say you liked it. I mean...if you didn't, I suppose I can quit. Hmm? You want me to keep doing it? What a nasty little freak, gettin' off on this. Maybe if you ask pretty, darlin'..."

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #prewar!cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #fallout tv show #fallout prime #corruption k!nk

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 3 days

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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 16: Please Come Back To Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter sixteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 7.6K (You know you love it)

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Alot of Angst, Crying, Heartbreak, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Additional Warning: This chapter contains severe amounts of fluff and angst. Ben is SUPER OOC and really soft in this chapter, I will not apologize for that, but I will say you're welcome 😉 If you don't like either of those things, then probably shouldn't read this?

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When you wake up you think you dreamed it all, but one look at your blotchy red face in the mirror of your bathroom, dried snot on your shirt, and your inability to find your phone means that it did happen.

Ben was back and you didn't know where to go from here.

Bits and pieces of the conversation explode in your head like fireworks and your grip on the bathroom sink tightens so much that the countertop cracks beneath your hands.

Shit.

You extract your fingers from the marble that crumbled like gravel in your iron grip and glance down at your watch. You’d been asleep for 7 hours, which meant that now it was 10 pm and you probably weren't going to sleep tonight.

As if you could after everything that just happened.

Honestly, you were surprised that you had been able to, but you figured it was just the exhaustion of everything that happened, the heartbreak, the shouting, the tears, the inability of you to let go of the past, and Ben's confession of love that you waited 80 years to hear. You had wondered in the past if he wanted to say it the night that you decided to come with him, if he really did care for you as much as you cared for him all these years. Now that you knew, you wish you didn't. You wish that you could let him go, let go of the things that happened all those years ago, and wish that you hadn't fallen for him and expected him to catch you.

You think about crawling back into bed and hugging your pillow until you fall asleep so you don’t have to think about Ben. You wince at the thought of his name.

He apologized, admitted that he loved me, said that what he did was wrong, said that he wouldn’t leave- The urge to cry lodges in the back of your throat. How do I have any tears left?

You think about how much you wanted to run to him, to throw yourself into his arms, but you knew that you shouldn't want to. Ben broke you. What he did weighed on your heart everyday, but you wanted to forgive him.

How can I still want him as much as I do? How can I want him to fix this even after he did everything he could to push me away?

The look in his eyes when he confessed his feelings to you flashes through your mind in black and white.

Ben admitted weakness, said that he was scared of all things. Ben wasn't afraid of anything.

Over 40 years of friendship meant that you knew every part of him, but the part you had seen in your apartment, him practically begging you to forgive him was not one that you were used to and was not one that you had ever seen.

It was unusual for him to look broken and vulnerable.

The closest you'd ever come to seeing it was on the nights back in Philadelphia when he tapped on your window, on nights when his father gave him a hard time and Ben needed a place to crash. When the look in his eyes made you want to pull him into your arms and never let him go, to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that he wasn't a disappointment. Because despite everything with Countess, Ben wasn't a disappointment to you.

Everything was easier when you were kids, when Ben would fall asleep beside you in your bed and when you woke up in his arms, you wished that he did it on purpose.

I guess he was trying to say that he did it on purpose. You sigh as you walk into your closet to find a soft t-shirt while avoiding the duffle bag that you threw inside the double doors before you collapsed onto the bed.

But even if he was sorry, how do I know he won’t just act like the boy I used to know and tomorrow pretend he doesn’t exist? It was so easy for him to do that, to say that I meant nothing to him, to act like he didn't care.

You think about the morning after your birthday, when he looked soft and happy in your bed and how quickly he shifted into the cold mask he wore as Soldier Boy. How easy it was for him to push you away and ignore you, act like you didn’t exist and cling to Countess at the premiere.

How do I know he won’t do that again? How can I trust him? How can I forget everything he did?

You think about the night you found him with Countess, think about the moments before at the premiere, when she made you believe that you were the ugly little girl who watched Ben prance around your birthday party with Missy Callahan. Your mind stutters on her name, remembering the last time you heard it in conversation on the night that you wished would never end.

"Don't be jealous of Missy Callahan. She's nothing compared to you. Never has been, never will be."

You hear Ben whisper it to you while your song played and remember that it made you feel like you were floating, made you feel understood and seen for the first time in your life. The memory of the night you spent together rises to the surface and you allow yourself to remember, remember how it felt to finally have him completely, how much it meant to you for him to be there with you, and how he made you feel special and loved.

Your jaw clenches as the image of him with Countess sours the memory of the perfect night you had together, as the memory of the words he shouted at you rip through the happy glow you had the morning after your birthday when you told him everything you'd always wanted to.

And then the memory of what he said to you a few hours ago rises.

"We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I'm ready now, I'm not scared anymore. I love you!"

Damn it why does it have to be like this. You clench your teeth together in anger and frustration. Why did he have to do this? Why did I have to love him? Why couldn't he have just stayed gone? Why did he have to come here-

"No. I love you and I'm not leaving!"

The words reverberate around in your skull, shaking through your body like an avalanche, shaking the foundation that you built to push him away. Because you didn't want to. You didn't want him to leave. You didn't want him to leave ever again. But you weren't sure if you could survive again if he did that again. If you opened your heart to him only to have him crush it under his heel all over again.

It was so long ago. 40 years. 40 years that he said he spent regretting what he said that night. We both said things that night.

Sometimes you wondered if Ben was as broken as you were after the fight. You think about how he looked when you went into your room and think about what he said.

Maybe he was.

Apart of you didn’t want to forgive him and didn’t believe that he really understood what he did to you. The other part wanted to leave your apartment and find him, ask him to stay, forgive him and let him back in to your heart.

More frustrated tears slip down your cheeks as you look for a pair of your soft sweatpants. When you walk out of your closet you think about going back to bed again, but you knew that sleep wouldn't come.

Maybe I should call Rosie. She'd be proud of me for not forgiving him, but probably would be mad that he came here. And I should probably tell her that I didn't have to go to Russia.

That thought gives you the strength to leave your bedroom, bare feet padding down the cool floors of the hallway back to your living room. The lights are all off, save from one single lamp on the coffee table next to the plush leather couch, the same one that you'd thrown Ben over when he grabbed your arm.

But when you cross from the hallway into the living room, you realize that you aren't alone.

Ben is sitting on the couch, leaning forward on his forearms, a blunt perched in his right hand where his arm rests against his knee, looking down at his feet. He looks up at you when you walk in, eyes piercing in the warm light of the lamp, familiar in a way that almost makes you start crying all over again.

"What are you still doing here? I thought I told you-" You begin to say, voice hoarse from crying, trying to summon up enough anger to push him away, but then your eyes shift to your kitchen counter.

A pretty glass vase of fresh cut lavender sits on the counter, the sharp clean smell floats through the air soothing the anger and frustration that you drew on to speak.

Despite your age and the way most considered them to be classic, you thought that over the years roses had become generic. But you loved lavender. It reminded you of the country home your family lived at over the summers when your mother declared that the smog in the city was too much and you all needed a holiday. She always seemed softer in the countryside, all the sharp edges of the city melting away. She didn’t snipe at your figure or your paint stained hands, if anything she gave you more freedom. You spent your summers outside in the garden staring up at the clouds missing Ben, painting and sketching, while the smell of the flowers enveloped your senses. You used to send letters to him and some sketches of flowers or small painted doodles after pressing fresh lavender into the envelopes so they would smell like it when they got to him. You wanted him to think of you whenever he smelled lavender.

He remembered how much I loved lavender?

Your eyes shift to the cigar box that lays open next to it, focusing on the slips of paper that seem to spill out over your countertop.

Are those-

You reach into the box and pull out the yellowed pages of letters delicately, eyes drifting across the paper, recognizing your handwriting, remembering the painstaking moments you spent writing them to Ben, hoping that he got them, and hoping that he missed you as much as you missed him. Underneath the ones from the summers are the ones that you sent him when he was at boarding school and then finally the faded pencil sketches and faded watercolor paintings you sent him. Each piece is folded and refolded as if someone continued to look at them over and over again.

Your fingers drift over a small doodle that you did of Ben and you sitting on a bench in Philadelphia, the one that captured you laughing at something Ben said.

It was so much easier then.

“You kept them?” You breathe while looking down at the pages.

Ben stands from the couch, putting out the blunt in one of the decorative glass ashtrays on your coffee table, watching you with the same expression in his eyes that he had when you were there earlier, when you told him to leave and not come back.

"Ben-" Tears begin to fall all over again as you meet his gaze.

"I hated those summers when you were gone. I used to sleep in your room and read the letters." He whispers. "It made me realize how much I needed you in my life. I never needed anyone before." His jaw clenches together as if the thought makes him angry.

“You asked me once why I didn’t stay at those schools. It’s because when I was at all those shitty boarding schools the only thing I could think about was getting back to you, coming back home.”

The word rings in the air between you and you suddenly understand what he is saying, remember what he said the day you were together at your first baseball game and you asked him why he didn't like staying at the boarding schools.

"I don't like being there. It's not home." He had said it so casually, but you remember being confused at his reply, but now you know.

He was saying that home was with you and it made your heart feel like it was ripping itself in half because you were still so angry with him but you didn’t want to be. Not when he was saying the very thing you’d known from the beginning. That being with him was home.

“Ben-“ You say, trying to strengthen your resolve, trying to summon the anger you’ve kept close to your heart for forty years.

"Every time I came to see you, tapped on your window I thought you would push me away, turn your back on me and you never did. And when all this supe shit happened I needed you with me too, that's why I asked you to come with me. Those years before and when we were on Payback, you put up with all my shit. Even when I did horrible things to other people, you stood by me. You know more about me than anyone else, have known me for longer than anyone else-" He takes a cautionary step forward.

Tears continue to fall from your eyes, sobs shaking your shoulders, but you can't speak.

"That night with you, felt different. Even before when we were at that restaurant it was different. I didn't want to leave. It was like nothing changed, like we were in your room again just talking, before all this, when we were still in Philadelphia. The only memories that I have from Philadelphia that are worth remembering are the moments I spent with you. And when I asked if I could come back to your place I-" He sighs rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought you would say no, but you didn't. And then you told me that you had wanted me almost as much as I'd wanted you all those years, that you needed me. I always thought that it was only me that needed you."

"Ben I can't-" You voice breaks looking away from him.

Ben is close enough now that his fingers come under your chin to tilt your face up to his. “I shouldn’t have said what I said or did what I did. I didn’t want to need anyone. I thought that I had to push you away because loving you meant I was weak. But it’s not true. Loving you is the only good thing that I’ve ever done and loving you is the only thing that makes me strong.”

You close your eyes to avoid his gaze, you wanted to believe him, but you weren’t sure that you could.

"I've fucked a lot of women in my life y/n, I won't apologize for that. But I've only made love to one." His thumb brushes away another tear that falls from your eyes. "And when you told me that you wanted me to be your first, it did something to me. I wanted to be everything you needed. I didn't want just one night with you. I wanted all of them. When I woke up the next morning with you in my arms, I didn't want it to end. All those nights when I showed up at your apartment, I didn’t want to go home. I just wanted to stay with you because it was home. Even when we were kids, being with you in your room it was the only place that I felt like I belonged.”

Your hand can't help but come up between the two of you, resting solidly on his chest. Apart of you wants to push him away, but you can’t.

Ben is still touching your face, holding it up to his. Your bodies are so close together that you can feel the heat of his skin through the air between you. Another tear falls and Ben's thumb brushes it away. The smell of the lavender is intoxicating, broken up only by the familiar smell of Ben's aftershave and soap.

And somehow you find your voice. It shakes, but you hold his gaze. "I hated you for a long time. What you said broke me. I was broken so many years. I still am-“

“Sweetheart-“

“No.” You inhale sharply. “I want to believe you, but I don’t think you understand what you did. I want to believe that you’ve changed but this is exactly what happened that night on my birthday. Don’t you see? How can I believe you? How do I know that you won't pretend to be everything I want, pretend that you’re the boy I fell in love with and then the next morning you’ll push me away and act like he doesn’t exist-“ Tears leave warm trails down your cheeks. "I’m not strong enough to go through that again.”

“I promise-“

“Ben you’ve promised in the past. And I-“ More tears come. “I’ve tried so hard to put it behind me. I want to believe that you’re still you but I don’t know if I can trust you again like I did.”

"Y/n." Ben looks deep into your eyes. "I didn't pretend that night. The only time I pretended not to care was in the morning and at the premiere-"

"And how do I know you won't do it again?" You sob. "When you think that it's too weak to admit that you care about me?"

"I do fucking care about you."

"You say that now."

"I love you."

"Ben I can't-"

"I said those things because I-" He sighs, shoulders tight in frustration and anger. "I thought that I needed to push you away, that I shouldn't care about anyone as much as I care about you. But I do. I fucking care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone in my life. I didn’t want to need anyone but I do. I need you. That’s why I kept showing up in your life. That’s why I spent so many nights in your bed. I couldn’t survive the night alone and I needed you with me, even after we took the damn serum.”

“But-“

“That night when you told me that asshole, Howard proposed I knew that I couldn't lose you. I didn't want you to marry that fucker. I wanted you to be with me. He didn't know you the same way I did, he didn't understand you. He didn't deserve you. And the night we danced together I called you ‘my girl’ because I wanted you to be. I wanted you to be mine. Not because I wanted to piss him off. Because I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you. You’re the one, the only one.”

You drop your gaze to his chest, sobbing quietly to yourself. Ben tilts your head up towards his one more time, to look deeply into your eyes. There's an unfamiliar vulnerability that stares back at you, the same one you saw when Ben would come to your bedroom and wait for you to ask him to stay because he thought you would push him away the way everyone else did.

"I promise that I will never do that to you again. I know it doesn't make what I did or what I said okay. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to fix it because I can't lose you. I’ve spent forty years away from you and I don’t want to spend anymore time away. I love you. And I hate that I fucking hurt you this much."

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, hear the raw emotion in his voice, but you’re still unsure.

“Please y/n I want to fix this." He says again.

“I know you do. But you can’t just show up 40 years later And expect to fix it in one night. I know it’s not your fault that you didn’t come sooner but, you hurt me-“

“I know I did-“ his eyes drop to your shoulders as the memory of how he grabbed you that night blankets his mind.

“No not like that. Ben you don’t understand. Sorry isn’t enough. And yes hearing you say all these things was nice but it’s not enough to make me forget everything that happened.”

“But-“

“No. Ben I loved you, more than I’d ever loved anyone I-“ You shake your head tears falling fast. “I lost pieces of myself to make you happy to make sure that you had someone in your life that cared for you. I stayed for so long with you because it was all I thought I could do. And every time I thought I could leave to do something for myself you would do something to pull me back in like you had a fucking radar and knew oh if I do something that she wants I’ll get her to stay with me a little longer!”

“I knew you were unhappy! I was trying to make you happy! I wanted you to stay with me-“

“By manipulating me?”

“No it wasn’t because I wanted to manipulate you I-“ He exhales in frustration. “You told me that you wanted someone to come home to, someone who loved you, a family, I wanted to give you those things! I saw how you were looking at the other couples, I knew what you wanted. That’s why I held your hand at dinner, gave you the necklace, and that’s why I kissed you-“

“But then you pushed me away. You pushed me away when I needed you the most, when I finally said what I'd been trying to say for years.” Your voice shakes. “I can’t go to bed every night with you and wake up with the dread that you’re going to push me away again and say that I mean nothing. That you’ll be cold and unfeeling and- I can’t do that to myself again.”

“I promise I won’t-“

“I don’t know if I believe you. If I can after everything."

"Please just tell me what I can do to fix it."

"I don't know!" You shout running your fingers through your hair pulling back from him. Because you wanted him to fix it. You loved every bit of the words he said, the love he confessed to you. You loved the way he was looking at you, the way he wanted to make this up to you, but your heart wouldn't let go. It couldn't let go of the things he shouted at you, couldn't let go of the image of him and Countess, couldn't forget how happy you were to tell him you loved him and then he just acted like you were nothing. The words he said that night begin to circulate, bringing you deeper into the dark pit that threatened to swallow you whole, the pit that you'd fallen into when you thought he died.

"Ben I-" Your voice catches in your throat. "I wish that I knew what you could do to fix this. I want you to. I want to forget all of it. And I want to forgive you because I still fucking love you, but I can't do it in one day. I can’t -" And despite your better judgement you crumple against his chest, tears smearing against the front of his shirt, body shaking with sobs, and trying hard to not think how it feels the same as it always has to be pressed against him.

Ben's arms come up around you to wrap you in his embrace, tucking your head under his chin as he begins to drag his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion.

The gentleness of his touch makes you cry harder against him, hold on to him so tight that you think you'll break him in half, but he doesn't complain, he just stands there with you. It reminds you of when he came to hold you in the hotel room when your brother died, when he drove for hours to be there for you. Because despite everything that had happened between you, Ben was always there with you before that night with Countess.

You don’t know how long you standing there together, but finally Ben picks you up and carries you down the dark hallway to your bedroom and deposits you on the bed.

He waits a minute on the edge, standing as if he's unsure, brow scrunched up in frustration and anger.

"I didn't mean to hurt you this fucking much. And I don’t know how to-“ His jaw tenses and he shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut like he can't look at you. “I don’t know how to- fuck- I can’t lose you.” Ben grips his hair so tightly you think he’s going to pull it out.

“Ben.” You sigh and despite everything , you stand up from the bed to hug him, allowing him to press his head into your shoulder and hug you so tight it hurts. It breaks something deeper in your chest because you can see how broken he is, how much he wants to fix this, and how much of him he was willing to let you see.

You didn't understand how he was being so open, how he was allowing himself to be like this after all the bullshit toxic masculinity he usually spouted and how he pushed away his feelings for so long. You wondered if after this he would push you away because you had seen him like this, or if he really did love you and that was why he was doing it.

“It’s okay.” You soothe, running your hands up and down his back. “It’s alright.”

But you’re not sure it is.

"If you still want me to leave I will. I can sleep on the couch.” Ben whispers. The emotion that flashes in his eyes when he says it, breaks your heart. It's vulnerable and raw, so different that the mask Ben wore as Soldier Boy. “But please don’t make me go.”

"I don't want you to go." You whisper. “Even after everything. I want you here with me, it’s just hard.”

“I’m sorry-"

“I know you are Ben.” You both stand there for a minute and you weigh your options.

You think about making him go back out on the couch, making him sleep alone, but you don’t want that. You knew that you’d spend the whole night thinking about him. And as much as a part of you wanted to push him away, you couldn't. So you do the opposite.

You take his hand and gently entwine your fingers with his. Ben stares down at them for a moment confused, before you sit on the bed, scooting back and tugging softly, but he hesitates.

“Are you sure?” He asks in a whisper, gaze raising from your hands to catch your eye.

You nod once tugging his hand again and this time he follows you down into the mattress.

He slides in next to you beneath the covers, keeping your hands entwined between the two of you so that they are locked against his chest as you face one another on the bed, heads resting on different pillows, but close enough that you can feel his warm breath every time he exhales.

Ben's eyes search yours. “I tried to call after. I picked up the phone but every time I did I couldn’t-“ He sighs. "I was such a fucking pussy. I didn't know what to say. I should have just come over-"

"I wouldn't have let you in." You breathe. "I didn't want to see you, didn't want to see anyone. Stan Edgar tried to come talk to me and I broke his nose."

"Really?" Ben smiles.

"Yeah." You try to smile back, but you can't.

Ben raises his free hand to push back your hair and tuck it behind your ear, but his eyes drop to your shoulders tracing the imaginary bruises that he left behind all those years ago. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I didn’t mean to-“

You press your lips into a tight line. “I think that’s the only time I’ve ever been afraid of you.” You say in a whisper. You hadn’t wanted to admit it aloud, but it was true. You had been angry and heartbroken, but the fact that Ben had laid a hand on you, was prepared to hurt you had scared you. It was what solidified that the thought that boy you loved was gone.

But the look on his face breaks something inside you, pain and anguish flashing in his eyes.

"Ben-" You sigh, shifting forward closer to him, but he releases your hand and instead wraps his arm around your waist to pull you into his chest, pressing his head into your shoulder. You know that he can't say what he's thinking right now, but he doesn't have to.

“I also remember doing something to you.” You say because you don't know what else to, you’re not used to seeing him look so broken.

“I deserved it.” He mumbles into your shirt.

“You didn’t deserve what I said about your dad-“

“I did. You were right.”

“Ben you’re not like him.”

“But I am. Everything I did to you, is something he would have done.” He mutters, pulling you tighter against him. “I don’t know how to fucking fix this.”

“This is helping a little bit.” You whisper against your better judgement, while you inhale his shampoo and lean further into his chest. It was weird to be here with him after all these years, after all the years you spent hating him. You didn't want to forgive him, you wanted to be angry but at the same time you wanted to believe him, you wanted to believe that the boy you fell in love with was still there.

And laying here with him holding you the way you always wanted him to, made you remember that boy.

“Yeah?” He breathes, raising his head from your shoulder.

“Mhmm.”

You lay there for a minute in his embrace and it's like he never left. It's the same as when you were kids and you laid in bed together. And finally you say. "As angry as I am, I still love you. You matter too much to me for me to let you go. I think that's why it hurts so much, because you're all I had Ben and I-"

"That's why I can't lose you. You're all I have and that’s enough. You are enough. You always have been and always will be.” Ben states his eyes are wide with his confession, the pain of what he did to you flashes through them. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I never could think of a way to say it.”

More tears spring from your eyes and you wonder when you’ll stop crying.

Ben leans his forehead against yours. His expression softens as he looks into your eyes, his touch gentle against your cheek. “But if you’ll let me, I’d like to show you how much I love you and how sorry I am.” The look in his eyes is softer than you’ve ever seen it, reminding you of how he looked on those early mornings still half asleep and reminding you of how he looked the morning after your birthday before he ran.

You know he means well, and you understand what he’s asking, why he’s asking. He’s trying to make it up to you the only way he knows how, but you can’t do it. It's too soon. Too much after everything that happened and too much considering you're still trying to come to terms with the fact that he's here and he's finally saying everything you ever wanted him to. Not to mention that you haven't completely forgiven him.

“Ben?"

“Yeah?”

“Can you just hold me tonight?” You breathe. You felt disgusting. You had snot and tears all over your face and your cheeks were bright red and splotchy from crying. “I’m not ready for that. Not after everything. I don't think I can-”

You watch disappointment flicker in his eyes but he recovers with a soft smile. "It's okay. We can take this slow, whatever you need."

Ben drops the hand that was against your cheek and wraps his arm around your waist to pull you into his chest. You snuggle into his arms breathing in the familiar smell before bringing your arms up to wrap around the back of his neck in a tight hug.

“Did they hurt you?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

Ben’s arms tighten around you and you know that he must be remembering the past 40 years.

“What they did doesn’t matter.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come for you." You pull back to look into his eyes. "The others told me you were dead. I wouldn’t have left you there if I knew-“

“I know.” Ben leans his forehead against yours. “I would have come for you too.”

“I know.”

“It means a lot to me that you were still willing to come get me after everything I fucking put you through.”

“That’s what love is.”

“No.” Ben whispers. “That’s you.”

“Ben-“

“I don’t deserve you. You’ve stood by me, put up with all my shit all these years and you never turned your back on me. What I did to you is unforgivable and yet you want me here with you-“

“Ben.” You sigh. “I know that I shouldn’t want you here and a part of me wants to push you away. I should make you leave, but I can’t. You’re my best friend and I love you. And that means that even though you’re the one who hurt me, you’re the only person that I want here, comforting me. As fucked up as that is, I don’t care. What you did was horrible, but I promise that I’m going to try my best to forgive you. It might take a long time, but I want to trust you again, because I love you and I never stopped.”

He frowns despite what you confessed. “You don’t regret-“

“I said a lot of things that night. And you did too." You push his hair back over his forehead. "And for the record, I don't think your father would care about making it up to someone else. We both know that he didn't care about anyone but himself. And even after everything that happened you're proving that you aren't him, right now, by being here with me."

He presses his lips together in a tight line. "Okay."

It’s quiet for a few moments as both of you stare at one another in the dim light of your bedroom.

“Have you really loved me since we were 8?” Ben whispers.

“Yeah. Since the study.” You're not sure if you should be embarrassed or not.

He smiles. “I was 10. It was the night of my mom's funeral. My dad was giving me some shit about something, but I couldn't stop thinking about you so I climbed up the tree outside your window. I wasn't going to ask you to come in, I was just going to sit on the ledge and watch you draw. I like watching you draw, it's like you're in your own little world and you forget about everything else. You always seem so happy." Ben smiles wider. "I like seeing you happy."

You remembered that night. You had a weird feeling that someone was watching you and when you looked out your window you had seen Ben sitting there. You had made a joke about him stalking you, but then invited him in. It was the first night that he had ever spent in your bed.

"And then when we woke up the next morning, you were laying there snoring-" Ben snorts.

"I do not snore." You smile with a sniffle

"You do. It's cute." Ben's smile turns softer. "And I didn't want to wake you up, because it meant that we'd have to move and I didn't want to ever move. Because moving meant that I would have to go back to my dad and I didn't want that. I just wanted to stay there with you."

More tears pour from your eyes with his confession because again you can’t see Soldier Boy, you just see Ben, but you know it’ll take a long time until you’re completely healed.

“I didn’t want to say anything. I thought that if I did you would push me away and I didn’t have anyone else that mattered in my life. And you deserved better than me. I was always getting kicked out of boarding schools I was a fuck up. A disappointment.” Ben sighs, brushing away your tears again. “Even after we took the serum I was. You deserved someone who was-“

“I didn’t think you were a fuck up, Ben. I’ve never thought that. I hate what your father said to you, what he did to you. I hate that he made you feel like you didn’t matter.” You stroke your fingertips through his hair and Ben sighs, leaning his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. “You are worth so much more than what he told you. You mean so much to me, more than anyone else ever. That’s why I never told you. I didn’t want to lose you. You’re everything to me.”

“You’re not going to lose me. I promise I’m never going to leave you again. I missed you so fucking much sweetheart.”

“I missed you too.” You continue to move your fingers through his hair. In the past you had avoided the urge to do so, but now you wanted to comfort him. Because as much as you wanted to forget the last forty years, you wondered what they had been like for him. You wanted him to tell you what they did to him.

“Feels nice.” He murmurs, arms tightening around your waist.

“Your hair’s a lot longer.” You can’t help but smile at his reaction.

“Didn’t have time to cut it.”

“So is your beard-“

“If you don’t like it I can shave it off-“

“No don’t.” You say it quickly and Ben opens one eye to smirk at you.

“Guess you like it.”

“Maybe.”

“Then I’ll keep it just for you Sweetheart.” He leans further into you. “You know I think you look pretty good too.”

You snort. “You don’t have to butter me up just because you feel bad. I’m wearing sweatpants, I haven't brushed my hair, and my face is all puffy-“

“You look beautiful.”

“Well-“

“Stop. You do.”

“Ben-“

This time Ben raises his hand to cup your chin. “Will you just let me compliment my girl?”

The nickname is familiar. You remember the last time he called you that, when you were dancing and he finally kissed you for the first time. “Do you really mean it this time?”

“I always meant it. You are mine and nothing else matters.” The look in his eyes is determined, as if he wants you to understand how much you mean to him.

“Does that mean that you're mine too?" Your voice is almost a whisper, frightened of his answer. Although he had apologized and said that he wanted to make it up to you, you were still afraid. Afraid that Ben couldn't do this.

"Y/n." Ben's expression is pained. "I promise I will never do that again. I will never hurt you like that ever. Believe me when I say that."

"I'm trying to."

“What can I do to fix it?” He asks again.

“I don’t know.”

And you don't. Because you understood that Ben was trying his hardest to make up for what happened, and yes you loved that he was like this now, but you were afraid, afraid that the next day you'd wake up and he'd be gone and Soldier Boy would be back.

Ben sighs. "I am yours and I don’t want to be anywhere else." His eyes are focused on you, determined, but filled with a softness that turns the beautiful emerald into a clover that reminds you of the soft grass at the park the day you painted him.

You weren’t used to him looking at you like that, like you were the only person in the world. It had only happened one other time, the morning after your birthday when you were more happy than you'd ever been in your entire life.

“Okay.” You whisper back because you don’t know what else to say. “Ben?”

“Mhmm?”

“What did they do to you?”

Ben’s body tenses. “It doesn’t matter now.”

"Please tell me.”

“Why?”

“Because you were there for forty years and I-“

“It doesn’t fucking matter. Just drop it.” Ben snaps, eyes blazing green.

You wait for a beat, watching the blaze of his eyes turn down to a simmer. “It’s okay to admit that the last forty years haven’t been easy. I won’t judge you for that or think less of you Ben. And if we’re going to do this, be in a relationship, you’re going to need to share things with me. It can’t be one sided-“

“It’s not going to be one sided, I just don’t want to talk about that.”

“Okay.” You sigh, settling back down next to him. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed. You knew that Ben kept his cards close to his chest, but you wanted him to be open with you about things like that.

The silence grows between you filled with unspoken things.

“They wanted to see if I could die, if they could make me fucking normal again.” Ben mutters into the top of your head. And then he tells you, tells you what happened that day in Nicaragua, tells you about the testing, about the nuclear bomb they put into his chest, about every single thing they did to him over the past forty years. With each revelation of the last forty years your arms tighten around his body in a hug, holding him to you while his words make anger surge in your chest like an uncontrollable fire.

How could they do that to him? How could they hurt him like that? And Payback? They were our teammates. How could they turn their back on Ben like that? Give him up so easily and not for any kind of money?

You think about what Countess confessed to you, when she said that she purposely drove you two apart.

They were right to. If they had tried any of that with me there, I would have ripped them all apart if they tried to take Ben away.

Your fingers fall into Ben’s hair, gently dragging back and forth at the base of his skull while he continues, trying to bring him some comfort.

“Ben I’m so sorry.” You say when he finishes.

“It’s okay-“

“It’s not. Nothing they did to you is okay.”

“I deserved it.”

His words make an ice cold chill travel down your spine. It was the second time that he had said something like that tonight.

“Ben.”

You lean back from him to look him in the eye, but he won’t meet your gaze. Your hands cup his cheeks, his scruff prickling against your palms as you bring his attention to you. He looks lost and it scares you. Ben never did that. He was always together, it was you that usually had that haunting look in your eyes, but you could see what they did to him reflected in the familiar green. He looked worn.

“You didn’t deserve what they did to you. No one deserves that. And yeah maybe you said some shit you shouldn’t have and maybe you did something bad, but I never want to hear you say that again. Do you understand me? Never say that again. You didn’t deserve that. And I promise you that you’re never going back. I will not let them take you again.”

Ben nods once and your hands slip from his cheeks to go around his neck once more to pull him into a tight hug.

“I didn’t mean to hurt those people.” He mutters into the top of your head remembering what happened in Mid-town.

You had heard about it through Rosemary, who had several patients who had been hurt in the explosion, not to mention every news station seemed to have it on 24/7.

“I know. It’s okay. You just lost control. It happens to all of us.” You think about killing Countess. “It doesn’t make you a bad guy.”

“Hmm.”

It was weird for Ben to allow this, to allow you to hold him, but somewhere deep down you wondered if he always wanted you to, but he just never said and didn’t want to admit it out loud.

Weirder still was that he was holding you to him too, curling his arms around you and pulling you into his chest like you belonged there. And despite everything that happened, despite how angry you wanted to be, being here with him felt like you were coming home.

“You should sleep.” He whispers after a little while, as his hand trails down your spine, moving up and down in a soothing motion.

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“If you want me to be.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I always want you here.” You breathe into his skin. “I lied when I said I never wanted to see you again.”

“Then I will be.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head that makes you cuddle further into him, tightening your arms were they wrap around his neck to pull him into you.

And you hope that one day it won't hurt, that one day you won't hear the words he yelled at you, and that one day you can believe and trust him again like you did.

******************************************************

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daistea · 1 day

Text

𝙻𝚊𝚘𝚒𝚜, 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚞 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜

Word Count: 1,483

Falling In Love With You & Relationship Headcanons

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Laois

It takes a little while for Laois to realize the truth of his feelings, to be honest. He doesn’t have much experience with romance, and actually not much interest in it either, so he sees you as a really good beloved friend.

He falls in love without realizing and spends quite a while having no clue that he’s in love. Everybody else knows how he feels and are impatiently waiting and watching for him to realize it too.

Laois thinks of you often. Between the pages of monster doodles and notes are very badly drawn doodles of you. (He’s made you a monster-sona, it's very cool, but he's too nervous to show you.)

Laois says the sweetest things without realizing they’re sweet. He’ll always tell you that you look nice. He’ll always make sure you’re well fed. He’ll always make sure you’re safe.

He spends a lot of time around you. A lot. He’s like your shadow, or a puppy at your heels.

He only realizes how he feels after a big event, such as you dying in the dungeon, getting hurt, etc…

But even then, he’s not really sure what to do with himself. He starts to get more nervous and pulls away a little bit, but his actions with you also become more weighty and serious. His touches are more meaningful, he looks you in the eyes deeply often when he’s talking to you, he tends to put a hand on your back to lead you through the dungeon (though he gets flustered when he does that.) Laois basically starts trying to put more thought into how he acts around you, trying to be cooler or more charming, but this isn’t very sustainable because he’s not being himself anymore. This is probably fixed by someone in the party telling him to stop, or by yourself.

Laois is a clingy partner. He’s very touchy and unashamed about it. He doesn’t realize he’s touching you half the time, it’s just habit. He’s the type to absently draw circles on your thigh or hand.

He isn’t particularly jealous, mainly because he doesn’t realize it when people are flirting with you unless they outright say it. Then he’s just worried about you, and how you feel. He can be protective though, he just doesn’t really know what to do if it’s a human threatening you.

Buy this man a bouquet of flowers once and he’ll start thinking about marriage. He likes affection from you.

Laois’s love languages? All of it. Every type. Gift giving and physical touch are big for him though.

You ask Laois for a baby and he just thinks for a minute… His cheeks are a little pink as he asks, “What kind?” Preferably human, you say. He tries to hide his disappointment but agrees nonetheless.

Kabru

Kabru is immediately aware of what’s happening with himself. The very moment he hears you laugh and thinks to himself, “Wow, what a pretty sound…” He’s like haha hold up! No.

Kabru is a charmer and knows how to handle people. I believe he’s been in very light, casual relationships before, but nothing serious. At first, he’d assume his feelings for you are light, like usual. Nothing to be concerned about.

He starts getting the urge to dissect your thoughts and put each of them into little jars for him to inspect. He does not say this out loud and tries not to show it, but he stares a lot. 👁️👁️

His feelings for you quickly become a chess game that he’s determined to win. Unfortunately, you’re eating the pieces when he’s not looking.

He worms his way into your life very subtly. One moment, he’s asking you how you feel about the weather, the next moment he’s urging you to spill your childhood trauma. It’s only when he takes a step back and asks himself, “Why do I care so much?” that he realizes how serious of a situation this is.

Of course, Kabru cares about a lot of people. He likes to know things. But this is different. He wants to know every little detail about you simply for his good pleasure. Sure, he files it all away into neatly organized cabinets in his mind, but he has no intent to use that information for anything but your happiness.

For example: Kabru will most definitely remember that offhand comment you made about preferring a certain table at that one restaurant you visited three years ago. He’ll make sure you get that table. He knows exactly what you’ll order too.

When he’s wrong about you, though, it baffles but simultaneously charms him.

You people-watch together. He can probably read lips, and he tells you what the people around you are saying.

He needs to keep you away from the dungeon. Not because of anything you did, but because he might go a little mad if he doesn’t at least try to keep you away from that lifestyle.

Kabru is chivalrous and kind. He kisses your knuckles a lot, like a gentleman. He puts his hand on the small of your back. He fixes your hair if it’s messed up. He isn’t much for pda, but it’s obvious you two are a couple with the way he often whispers to you, catches your eye, and smiles at you.

He’s a blanket hog. He doesn’t mean to be, but he is.

Jealousy isn’t a big thing with Kabru. Sure, he feels it, but he stays calm and will simply wrap an arm around your shoulder and start a conversation with the person flirting with you. He’ll end up actually making their acquaintance and have a relatively okay conversation. He's still jealous, but distracted enough for it to not consume him.

Kabru's love languages are acts of service and physical touch.

You ask Kabru for a baby and he just laughs. He thinks you’re joking. After a moment, it sets in that you’re not joking and he gets flustered.

Mithrun

Mithrun is vaguely aware of what’s happening when he’s falling in love, it just doesn’t seem like something he needs to acknowledge, think about, or act on. He’s wrong.

To be honest, he doesn’t believe he’s capable of romantic love. He’s wrong.

It starts out very subtly. Mithrun starts to take more notice of the little things about you; the color of your hair in the sun, the color of your eyes, how your voice sticks in the back of his brain and refuses to leave. Mithrun knows what this means, but he doesn’t really care at the moment.

Then, it starts getting more intense. Without meaning to, he notices the shape of your lips, the feeling of your skin, the sound of your footsteps…

This is when he starts getting a little curious. Is this a desire the demon missed within him? Is this a new desire forming? Huh.

Pre-ending Mithrun chooses to ignore it because what’s the point? This results in some irritation for him, longing looks(he doesn’t look longing on the outside, but it’s there on the inside. What everybody else sees is just... a slight look of determination on his face. He has no idea he's making that face either nor does he really care.) and unexplained protective tendencies that shock the canaries and, occasionally, himself.

Post-ending Mithrun chooses to dig deeper because this is a desire forming and he wants to hang onto every tiny molecule of desire he possesses with all of his strength. This results in soft touches at every opportunity he has, willingness to do whatever you ask, and his constant presence with no discernible explanation.

Are you dating? Nobody quite knows, not even you.

Mithrun was naturally jealous and possessive before The Incident. He doesn’t get like that again until you come along, and then it’s like his old self wakes up a little. Just a little. He doesn’t make scenes or get emotional over it, but he will calmly walk up to somebody that’s flirting with you, touch their shoulder, then teleport them away from you.

If someone asks what you are to him, he simply says, “Mine,” or “Does it matter?” with a straight face.

He can be seen frequently wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his head on top of yours if you’re shorter, or on your shoulder if you’re taller.

On occasion, he will be caught with a small smile as he holds you. It’s rare, but it happens. What’s he thinking at those moments? No one knows.

The canaries are incredibly nosy— aside from Pattadol— about your relationship, and Mithrun has no qualms about answering their invasive questions.

Mithrun’s love languages are acts of service and physical touch. You’re the only one he likes touching. He doesn’t say I Love You often but he will definitely lean on you a lot and protect you even if you don’t need it.

You ask for a baby and he calmly says, "Give me a week... What color do you want?"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#this ones for the girlzz that have abandoned the concept of cringe #so nervous.. its my first x reader in a while but I have so many Thoughts #if its out of character then no don't tell me I'll cry #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #laois touden #laois touden x reader #kabru of utaya #kabru #Kabru x reader #mithrun #mithrun of the house of kerensil #mithrun x reader #my writing

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justagalwhowrites · 15 hours

Text

Halcyon - Ch. 10: People Might Think You Care About Me

You and Joel spend the holidays together. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 9, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Again, I'm here begging HBO to give me something to use for young Joel PLZ

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mention of dieting and diet culture. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.8K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter

“I can’t believe my kid is going to like you better than me,” Joel said, sitting in the middle of the living room floor with a roll of wrapping paper spread out in front of him. “Scissors.”

You handed them over before grabbing the tape, putting a piece on the tip of your finger before folding the paper around the box - a friendship bracelet kit - that you were wrapping for Sarah.

“I mean, first of all, your kid already likes me more than she likes you,” you teased, turning the box to do the other side. “She has good taste…”

“You’re the worst.”

“Second,” you said, ignoring him. “It is a joint gift, you’re getting tons of cool dad points out of this.”

“She’s gonna know it was your idea,” he said, adjusting the gift he was wrapping. “Hell, she’s gonna know that only one of us could have gotten tickets and it ain’t me.”

As if on cue, Swiftie - Sarah’s kitten - pounced on the box Joel was wrapping.

“Yeah, this one knows, too,” he said, scooping her up with one large hand and setting her down. “I miss when she wanted Barbies. Shit was easier.”

You laughed.

“Be happy she’s excited about anything enough that she’s going to freak out over Taylor Swift tickets,” you said. “She’s about to be a disaffected teenager, enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he muttered, “She’s stubborn enough as it is.”

“You’re in for it, Miller,” you said as your cat, Puck, climbed on your lap. You reached around him to finish taping the package you were wrapping. “She’s going to give you so much shit…”

“What if she’s just like you, hm?” Joel teased. “Gonna have a nerd for a kid…”

“Hey, I was a nerd who snuck out at night to go get drunk with the boneheaded jock,” you teased back. “You really want her to be just like me?”

“Jesus, you’re right,” Joel shook his head, finishing wrapping his present. “I’ll have to keep her far away from anyone like me for the sake of us all.”

You snorted and finished wrapping your own gift before scooping Puck into your arms, nuzzling into his fur and giving him a kiss on the head before settling with your back against your couch as you looked at the lights on the tree.

It was Christmas Eve, the first one in years you were spending without Gale and you’d never been more thankful for Joel.

Last year, you and Gale were separated but you’d felt so alone that you’d texted him the afternoon of Christmas Eve and spent most of the night and next day in bed. You’d tricked yourself then, pretended there was a chance in hell of the two of you getting back together and things going back to the way they used to be.

That hadn’t happened. You’d spent New Year’s Eve in bed, too. Except that time, you were alone.

You’d been afraid that was going to happen for you this holiday season, too. You asked Anna what she had planned for Christmas, fully expecting her to want to spend the day together. She had other things in mind.

“Honestly, ever since Mom died?” She’d shrugged. “I love using it as a day to just chill. Binge watch TV I’ve been meaning to catch up on, eat a pile of Chinese food, maybe take a bath… It’s pretty boring but I love it. And since I’ve got this little bundle on the way, I’m extra looking forward to it this year.”

“Oh,” you forced a smile, trying to hide your disappointment. “No, that sounds great.”

“Oh God,” she clamped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide for a moment. “Did you want to do something? I’m so sorry, I should have…”

“”No,” you waved her off quickly. “No, you’re good! I don’t want to disrupt your plans…”

“You can join if you want!” She said. “I mean, for everything but the bath part, that might be a little much now that we’re not kids anymore.”

“No,” you said again. “You have fun! Tradition is tradition and you need the break. Maybe I’ll do the same.”

You should have known that she would have her own way of doing things. You’d all but abandoned her during your marriage, sending perfunctory text messages and holiday cards and flying her up for a long weekend every year or so but, otherwise, you went weeks without talking. Of course she had Christmas plans that didn’t involve you. Why would she have any that did?

Joel, however, had done what he’d always done since you’d moved back to Texas: Made room for you in his life.

“Know you and Anna probably already got plans but,” he’d shrugged two weeks earlier. “If you don’t… want to spend Christmas with me n’Sarah? Tommy, too, assuming he doesn’t con his way into dinner at some girl’s house. S’OK if you don’t, just figured… I dunno…”

You’d smiled, bigger than you’d really meant to.

“You want me to spend Christmas with you?”

“I want you to spend most days with me,” he shrugged. “But you know, we gotta go out in the world and make money and shit. Anyway, Christmas. You in? Could just move in until the New Year if you really wanted…”

The last part wasn’t going to work with your obligation to go try to write a book once Christmas was through. But you had spent the last two nights at Joel’s, bringing Puck over to play with Sarah and Swiftie as the three of you watched Christmas movies and binged cookies. No papers to grade, no lawyers calling because your attorneys’ offices were closed, no pressure because you already had time set aside to write. You could really relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity and relaxing with Joel and Sarah was quickly becoming your favorite thing in the entire world.

But all that relaxing had meant there was a small pile of presents that weren’t wrapped that needed to make it under the tree. It was Christmas Eve and time had run out.

“You need to stop procrastinating,” you said, getting your egg nog that was now mostly liquor off the coffee table and taking a sip. “Can’t get away with that shit when you’re a business owner.”

“Just watch me,” he teased. “Besides, you’re one to talk, you made any progress on that book?”

“That’s what next week is for,” you said, giving the cat a kiss just as he started to get restless in your arms. You set him down. “Fingers crossed having nothing else to do will make me churn out the words.”

“Wild to me that you make money from what’s in your head,” Joel came and sat next to you. “Not that I think you shouldn’t, if anyone should it’s you. Just that anyone does at all is insane.”

“Well, I may not make money off it for long if I can’t write anything else,” you sighed. “Know what? Let’s not talk about next week. I want to live in this moment - the one where we don’t have any worries and the presents are all under the tree and Sarah is passed out - for a while longer yet.”

Joel hummed in agreement and you leaned your head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. You could smell his skin and cologne and there was still a little bacon scent from when he’d made breakfast for the three of you that morning.

“Think she’ll have a good Christmas?” Joel asked quietly, the two of you watching the lights twinkle on his tree.

“Hell yeah,” you smiled a little. “You really are an amazing Dad, Joel.”

He scoffed.

“I’m serious,” you peered up at him. “You’re lucky to have Sarah but she’s lucky as hell to have you, too. She’s going to love it.”

“Speaking of parents… anything new in the Anna situation?” Joel asked cautiously.

“It’s a girl,” you sighed. “But she seems to be keeping up with everything, thank God. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe this is the kick in the ass she’s been needing…”

“Was for me,” Joel shrugged, making your head rise with his shoulder.

You sighed again.

“Just seems like an awful lot to put on a kid,” you said. “And you might have been young and dumb but you didn’t have the shit Anna’s got on her plate. It’s a bit of a different story with her.”

“She might surprise you. But either way, we’ll make up a room for the little sucker here,” Joel said. “Just to be safe.”

“Regardless, that’s next year Goldie and Joel’s problem,” you said. “And thank fuck for that.”

“Yeah, fuck those two,” you could hear the smile on Joel’s voice. “Let’s put the wrapping paper away and go to bed, something about Santa and knowing when you’re sleeping and all that.”

You cleaned up the living room and tried not to pay attention to the nighttime routine you’d fallen into with Joel in the few days you’d been staying with him. You had your own sink in Joel’s bathroom, one that had your hair products and face wash lined up alongside it. You had your own side of the bed with your own nightstand where the book you’d been reading the last few days was nearing its end and waiting for you. If you thought about it too much, you’d miss it when it was gone. If you thought about it too much, it might seem like something you could keep.

Joel made his customary space at his side and you nestled into him, your head on his chest where you could hear his heart beat. His fingers trailed up and down your arm.

“There are upsides to a kid, you know,” he said quietly. “Christmas morning is one of ‘em. Just wait.”

You smiled a little.

“Stop keeping me awake and we won’t have to wait long,” you said.

Joel snorted.

“Yeah yeah. Night Goldie.”

“Night Joel.”

Sarah came careening into Joel’s room before 7 a.m., slamming into the bed so hard that it made your teeth rattle.

“Dad! Aunt Goldie!” She shook you both. “Wake up, it’s Christmas!”

“Yeah, alright,” Joel groaned, taking his warm arm from its place around your shoulders. You groaned, too. “You stay here with Goldie while I go put the coffee pot on and get set up to record you…”

Sarah groaned.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said. “Sit tight, five minutes.”

You rolled onto your back and blinked the sleep from your eyes, Sarah bouncing impatiently on the bed. You lifted your head enough to look at her, curls sticking every which way, and you dropped back down onto the pillow with a groan.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, kid,” you said.

“Yeah, that’s what my dad says,” she said cheerfully and you could picture her smile as she did.

“Alright, come on out,” Joel called from the living room. Sarah rocketed off the bed and you laughed as you got up yourself, trailing behind her and trying not to yawn.

“Oh cool!” Sarah flopped down beside her stocking and started going through it as you got to the living room. Joel was sitting on the couch, his phone set up on a tripod in the corner and pointed at the tree. “These are those face mask things I said I wanted! And the headbands for soccer!”

“I do pay attention now and then, baby girl,” Joel said, rubbing his eyes.

“Don’t you mean Santa pays attention?” You asked, sitting next to him on the couch. Joel handed you a cup of coffee, made exactly how you liked it.

“I know Santa’s not real, Aunt Goldie,” Sarah rolled her eyes and gave you a look. “I’m 11, not a kid.”

Joel snorted.

“Sorry,” you said. “My mistake.”

“Don’t spoil Santa for Goldie,” Joel said before reaching down on the ground next to him. “Speaking of which…”

He handed you a fat stocking and you frowned a little as you took it.

“You made me a stocking?” You asked, tears pinching at your throat. “No one’s made me a stocking since I was in high school…”

“Then you’re real overdue,” he smiled a little and went back to watching Sarah as she unwrapped a chocolate Santa and stuffed the entire thing in her mouth. “Alright, let’s not eat all the candy in one sitting…”

“But it’s Christmas!” She said, voice muffled around the chocolate.

“Still gonna get sick,” he replied.

You started unpacking the stocking, pulling two pairs of fuzzy socks out of the top.

“Because your feet are always freezing,” he said, looking back at you. “Figured one pair for here, one for your house…”

“Thank you,” you smiled, going back into the stocking. There was some of your favorite candy, one of the face masks Sarah had, a bottle of gold nail polish.

“We can do a spa day!” She beamed.

“We can,” you laughed, looking at Joel who just shrugged, a small smile on his face.

At the bottom of the stocking was a chunky gold pen, thick plastic encasing glitter and you turned it over in your fingers, frowning for a moment at just how familiar it felt.

“Saw one like the one you had when we were kids years ago,” Joel said. “Bought it on a whim, thought you might want it.”

You wanted to say thank you but you couldn’t seem to make a sound, the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just threw your arms around his neck and he laughed a little when he caught you, his hand sliding over your side and around to your back.

You stayed close to Joel and watched as Sarah tore through her presents, the envelope with the concert tickets safely in Joel’s possession.

“Hey Sarah,” you said eventually. “Can you hand me that box under there that’s for your dad?”

Joel frowned as Sarah got the box, setting it on the coffee table in front of Joel and hovering as he went to open it.

“Didn’t need to get me anything,” he said.

“Too damn bad,” you said. “Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing crazy.”

He opened it. Inside were two shot glasses, leather wrapped with a monogrammed M burned into it.

“I thought you needed some accessories for the flask,” you smiled.

He laughed.

“We gotta break these in,” he said, looking them over. “They even look like they match…”

“May have gotten Tommy to send me pictures,” you said. “Keep going, one more thing in there.”

He shifted the tissue paper before pulling out a cassette tape, frowning at it for a moment.

“What…”

“I know your stereo is old enough that it plays tapes,” you said, palm out. “Hand it over.”

He laughed once but obeyed and you went to put the tape in, adjusting the volume so it wouldn’t be too loud. It crackled a bit at the start and then Joel’s voice - almost 20 years younger but still so familiar - filled the room.

“My name is Joel Miller,” he said. “I play guitar and sing, mostly rock, little country…”

Joel gaped at the stereo before looking to you.

“Is this that old demo tape we made when we were kids?” He asked. You laughed and nodded. “Holy… where the hell’d you find this thing?”

“I kept one,” you shrugged. “Thought it might give you a nudge toward playing again.”

The Joel on tape started playing and Sarah came and sat between the two of you on the couch, looking up at her dad.

“So that’s you?” She asked.

“Sure is,” he said. “Long time ago, I was closer to your age then than mine now.”

“What’s it for?” She asked.

“Well,” Joel looked over her head to you and smiled a little before looking back at his daughter. “I always liked playing, wanted to be a singer for a while. Goldie here talked me into making some demo tapes to give to places around here that had open mic nights so I could actually play for people. Worked, too. Had a few places I played pretty often for a bit in there thanks to that tape.”

“Why’d you stop?” She frowned. “You were good.”

Joel shrugged.

“Bigger things to do,” he kissed the top of her head. “Though speaking of music… think there might be one more thing for you under the tree.”

Sarah’s frown deepened and she went to look around, picking her way through wrapping paper and but not finding it.

“There’s nothing over here, Dad,” she said. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, right,” Joel said, giving you a wink and pulling the envelope out of the pocket of his pajama pants. “Here it is.”

She jumped over some of the boxes scattered over the floor and took the envelope from him, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the writing on the front.

“To the swiftest music fan?” She said, looking up from the envelope and at the two of you.

You just shrugged.

“Gonna have to open it, kiddo,” Joel said.

She slipped her fingers below the seal and pulled out the card, two pieces of paper falling to the ground before she had a chance to read it. She picked them up and unfolded them, reading the first one.

“It says we have a hotel room in Dallas?” She looked at Joel.

“Gotta read the other paper, baby girl,” he said. “That’s the important one. And the one from Aunt Goldie.”

She flipped to that page next and only held it for a moment before shrieking and throwing herself at you, knocking you back into the couch.

“You got Eras Tour tickets?” She pulled back, half on top of you and half on the couch. You just laughed and nodded. “Oh my GOD, thank you thank you thank you, you’re the best! OH MY GOD!”

“Well your dad is the one getting us there and making sure we have a place to stay,” you said. “So hug him, too.”

“Thank you!” She threw herself at him, too, and he laughed, catching her and giving her a squeeze. “This is the best present ever, it’s going to be the best time, I can’t wait! We’re going to see Taylor Swift! Oh my GOD, I have to tell my friends!”

She shot off to her room to get her phone and Joel laughed, looking over at you.

“OK I don’t even care that she likes you better n’me now,” he said. “She’s that happy? Worth it.”

“We’ll see how we feel after a few days wrangling her for the Taylor Swift concert,” you said, watching where she’d disappeared up the stairs. “But… yeah, definitely worth it.”

“Hey,” Joel said, voice oddly earnest. You looked over at him. “Thanks for loving my kid.”

You smiled a little.

“She’s yours,” you said. “How could I not?”

Tommy came over a few hours later, once the turkey was in the oven and the wrapping paper was cleaned up off the floor. He gave Sarah a five pound bag of Sour Patch Kids and said “don’t tell your dad” before kissing the top of her head as she scampered off to stash her hoard in her room. He greeted you with a hug with a tight squeeze on the end and you still couldn’t quite get used to just how adult he was. There was part of you that still saw him as the little kid who trailed after you and Joel, the one who sometimes begged to go to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Now, he was nearly as tall as his older brother, drinking a beer and talking to Joel about a woman named Maria he’d just started dating. It was an odd reminder of just how much time you’d lost with Joel, just how much had changed.

The four of you had dinner - Tommy teasing Sarah more like a loving older brother than an uncle, making you smile - and, before too long, the day was done.

Sarah insisted on listening to Taylor Swift while she got ready for bed and Joel read to her from an Artemis Fowl book, you eavesdropping on Joel doing the voices from your place in the living room while the cats curled up around you.

A keen sense of belonging settled over you then, as you held a mug of cocoa in one hand and the other rested on the back of your large, orange cat. This, you thought, was where you belonged. In this space, in this time, alongside these people.

How could you ever hope to find this anywhere else? How were you ever supposed to recover from this stubborn crush if Joel was the place you felt most like home?

“You OK?” Joel asked, hovering toward the top of the stairs, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.

“Yeah,” you smiled and gave Puck a scratch and let yourself have the feeling. “I’m good.”

You got up early the next morning, Joel barely awake enough to help carry your bags to the car.

“See you New Year’s Eve,” he said, his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants and his hair in total disarray. “Better have that damn book done by then.”

“Do you really think you can write an entire book in a week?” You asked, brows raised.

“I dunno,” he said. “You’re the smart one, you tell me.”

You rolled your eyes and he laughed a little.

“Alright, I’m goin’ back to bed,” he said. “Text me when you get there, have fun being a genius.”

“Hey,” you called to him as he made it halfway back up his walk. He turned to face you, frowning slightly. “Thanks. For being my friend.”

An expression you couldn’t place passed over his face before he smiled a little.

“Careful,” he said. “Talk like that enough, people might think you care about me and shit.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” you said. “See you in a few days.”

He watched you drive off and you made your way to the hill country and the cabin Stephanie had reserved for you. You’d insisted that it have extra bedrooms and a hot tub and were surprised that she hadn’t pushed back on it.

“Whatever you need to get the job done, you’ve got it,” she said after sending you links to some cabins. “I’m just here to facilitate.”

You stopped on the way for groceries, stocking up so you wouldn’t need to leave the house once you settled in. You went with most of your standbys for cooking for one and watching the careful diet you’d been on for years but then thought of Joel bringing you tamales and plying you with cookies over the last few days. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did need to live a little. You got the stuff to make the bagel sandwiches, too.

The cabin was damn near idyllic, all stone and wood with huge windows looking out at the brush leading down to the lake in the backyard. The hot tub was set on the back porch, a fire pit in the yard and rocking chairs out front. The kitchen was large and reasonably well equipped and there were enough bedrooms that Joel, Tommy and Sarah could have their own when they all joined you for New Year’s Eve. There was even a desk set up near a window that overlooked the water and you set up your laptop and charger and got out your notebook with the pen from your Christmas stocking, arranging everything just so.

“Alright,” you said to no one after you got the groceries put away and made yourself a cup of coffee before settling in at the desk to write. “Let’s do this.”

And… you tried. You really, truly did.

Day one, you got most of an outline done. Enough of one that you went to bed feeling somewhat accomplished and felt good treating yourself to a bagel sandwich in the morning. But then, when you sat down to work on the next part for day two, you weren’t sure you liked any of it anymore. You pressed on, anyway. Day three, you tried to write the first chapter and you made some decent progress, at least feeling like you were getting to know the characters a bit as you settled into the story. But, day four, you read what you’d written the day before and wanted to claw your way out of your skin. What were you doing? Why did you think you could do this at all? Had you ever made anything worthwhile on your own? Why would you suddenly be able to do it now?

The text came through when you were taking a break for lunch, desperately avoiding the gnawing feeling of failure after days of accomplishing fuck all when you really had no excuse not to. You sighed and opened your texts, fully expecting from Joel or Anna or even Stephanie.

It wasn’t.

Hey Doll

You dropped your fork in shock and it clattered to your plate as you blinked at your phone in total shock. He was texting you. Why was he texting you? He hadn’t texted you in months, not since you’d left Rhode Island. Why now? Did you want to know? Could you resist knowing?

Hi Gale

You propped your phone up against your half empty can of Diet Dr. Pepper and stared at the screen, waiting for the next shoe to drop.

It didn’t take long.

How’ve you been doing?

Your hand shook as you replied.

Alright. I like the new school. You?

He responded almost instantly.

Not bad. Was just thinking about you. Miss you.

You froze, your heart in your throat.

He missed you. How could he just say that? The collapse of your marriage had been one of the most painful things you’d ever gone through, happening in slow motion as he pulled further and further away and you desperately tried to dig your nails in to keep him close. You’d all but begged for him to miss you for years and now he was just texting it to you out of the blue. How could he just say that? How could you pretend like it wasn’t what you wanted to hear?

You went to his Facebook page and checked his relationship status, one of the upsides to being with an older man meaning that his social media presence was pretty limited. He was still listed as in a relationship with Carla, a woman he’d met in much the same way he’d met you. The thought made your stomach churn, that you’d been so easily replaced by the younger, thinner, prettier version who had been dropped on his desk, practically gift wrapped.

You went back to the texts.

How’s Carla?

There was a longer pause that time.

She’s not you.

“Jesus,” you said, setting the phone down and closing your eyes for a moment. You tried to think, forcing yourself to be practical. This wasn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation. You couldn’t have this conversation, not when you’d just been sitting her wondering if you could do the only thing you’d ever felt like you were supposed to do without his help.

I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m in the middle of working on my book. Maybe another time.

You stared at the phone, waiting for him to respond. He never did.

“Yeah, sure seems like you missed me,” you muttered, finishing your salad and cleaning up from lunch, settling back in at your desk to write for the afternoon, trying not to think about the very real possibility that your writing career had ended when your marriage did.

“I’m losing my mind over here,” you said, breaking down and calling Joel on day five. “There’s only so much I can say to a wall, you know.”

“We’re comin’ your way tomorrow,” he said. “Be praying for some peace and quiet once Sarah and Tommy are there, trust me. Still like pecan praline ice cream, yeah?”

“Blue Bell?” You asked.

“Course it’s Blue Bell,” you could hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “What kind of animal you take me for?”

“Oh, my apologies…”

“Anything else you can think of?” He asked. “I can always stop on the way, too, but it’s easier while I’m here.”

“I still think it’s silly to buy ice cream an hour away and then drive it out here,” you said.

“That’s what coolers are for,” he replied. “Stop finding shit to worry about. Just give the writing one more shot, see how far you get. Who knows, you might surprise yourself.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you remembered your texts with Gale the day before.

“Goldie,” Joel said, tone serious. “That all that’s on your mind?”

“Stop trying to read my thoughts,” you said.

“Tell me,” he said. “Or I’ll show up early and make you.”

“That a threat?”

“That’s a promise,” he said. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Gale texted yesterday,” you said, fidgeting with the handle of your coffee mug, the coffee itself going cold an hour ago.

“Gale?” Joel asked, tone sharp. “Fuckin’ Gale? The fuck did he want?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I’ll show you the texts when you get here, maybe you can translate them for me since he’s not making any damn sense.”

“That asshole better not be making any trouble,” Joel said. “I will find him and kick his ass, Goldie, just say the word…”

“I know you will,” you laughed a little. “But don’t worry about it right now. And I should let you go…”

“Yeah, go write your book,” he teased. “Change the world and shit.”

There was a knock at your front door and you frowned, staring at it. There was a window to the side of it but all you could see was a shadow.

“Hey, Joel?” You said. “Hang on one second, there’s someone at my door.”

“What?” He sounded serious now. “Were you expecting anyone?”

“No,” you said quietly, approaching it slowly and trying to see through the frosted glass. You couldn’t make out who it was. “So just stay on the line and make sure I’m not axe murdered…”

“Need me to come out there now?” He asked. “If you ain’t safe…”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, unlocking the deadbolt. “Probably just a neighbor, but…”

You opened the door and peered out through the crack, phone clutched against your head.

You still almost dropped it.

“Hey Doll.”

***

“Hi Gale.”

Joel’s heart dropped.

“Gale?” He said, pressing his phone tight against his head and trying not to yell in the middle of the line at the HEB. “Fucking Gale? He’s there?”

“I have to go,” you said quickly. “Talk later.”

You hung up before he had a chance to say goodbye. He tried calling you back but you ignored it.

Joel stood there, staring at his cart for a moment, his head swimming.

Was he freaking out because it was you and he didn’t want you alone at some romantic looking cabin with your ex-husband? Was it because he knew that you weren’t in a place to handle this right now? Was it because he knew - knew - that your ex was a goddamn predator?

He’d bitten his tongue about that fact since you’d been back, that the man you’d married had been more than twice your age and you’d only been a legal adult for all of a month when he’d met you. It didn’t matter that it was you, that Joel had gone searching for you and found you there with him all those years ago, he’d want to beat the shit out of a man like that regardless of who it was. A man like that couldn’t be trusted.

He especially couldn’t be trusted with you.

Joel checked out as fast as he could, calling Tommy as he drove.

“Hey, need you to do me a favor,” he said quickly.

“You always need me to do you a favor,” Tommy said. “One of these days I’m gonna cash in.”

“Yeah, who got you the only job besides the army you’ve kept longer than a week?” Joel asked.

Tommy sighed.

“Fine. What’s up?”

“Need you to take Sarah tonight.”

“Joel, come on!”

“M’serious,” Joel said. “Goldie’s ex just showed up at the fucking cabin…”

“Oh, not that fucking asshole from the funeral,” Tommy cut him off.

“That’s the one,” Joel said.

“Fuck that guy,” Tommy said. “He needs to stay the fuck away from her.”

“Yeah, somethin’ tells me he ain’t gonna make that choice on his own,” Joel said. “So I need you to pick up Sarah and take her for the night. And bring me my shit tomorrow. I’ll text you the address where Sarah’s at, she’s at her friend’s playing right now, needs to be picked up about five…”

“Yeah, I got it,” Tommy said. “Go save the day.”

Joel drove as fast as he dared, not familiar enough with where cops liked to hide to go too fast. He pulled up in front of the cabin you’d sent him the information for a week and a half earlier. He’d have admired it, in another circumstance. He’d always wanted a place like this, someplace quiet where there was enough space to live a little, maybe hunt. A place where Sarah could run and play and get to know nature a little.

But in that moment, he was too pissed to take it in.

He grabbed a bag out of the trunk - pretense more than anything else - and stalked up to the door before knocking on it, his fist coming down in heavy thuds on the wood.

You pulled open the door, a surprised look on your face and your ex-husband at your back.

He looked just about the same as Joel remembered him from before. Tall but not as tall as him, a refined air about him that made Joel want to deck him, a smug look on his face. His hair was gray and his face was wrinkled and Joel fucking hated him.

“Joel,” you said, staring at him. “What are you…”

Joel did the only thing he could think to do, fucking Brad standing so close to you with a hand between your shoulder blades like he fucking owned you.

“Missed you too much, baby,” he said, watching your eyes go a little wide at the word. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

He reached out and cupped the hinge of your jaw, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and he tugged you closer, his heart beating so fast he was sure that your fucking ex could hear it.

But he didn’t care.

All he cared about was the way your lips felt on his when he kissed you.

A/N: I mean we can all agree, fuck Brad/Gale.

But also... his presence does get results.

THANKS FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME! Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #slow burn #halcyon

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chaoticharrington · 3 days

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Chapter Two: The Ticket and Your Shitty Car

Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lots of angst (sorry folks), mentions of anxiety and bullying, cigarette smoking, Eddie and Steve being sexy, kissing 👀, Reader is in their mid 20s and Steve and Eddie are in their early to mid 40s. Lemme know if i've missed anything.

**THERE WILL BE LOTS SMUT 18+ CONTENT EVENTUALLY SO MINORS THIS IS NOT A SPACE FOR YOU, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED,IF YOU DONT HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO I WILL LIKELY ASSUME YOU'RE A MINOR AND PROBABLY BLOCK. DM/ASK FOR ANY QUESTIONS**

Summary: After a few weeks of getting closer to Eddie and Steve feelings bubble to the surface

Authors Note: I'm so excited for this chapter and the rest of the series i've been having so much fun writing this! I've never written angst before so i'm interested in the response it'll get! And I pinky promise ya'll are getting smut in the next chapter 😈 7k words

**Chapter One**

A couple days had gone by since your first interactions with the two men that have been plaguing both your waking thoughts and your dreams. You’ve woken up more than once this week from your body buzzing and your panties soaked through. Lips on skin, rough hands on your hips, deep voices whispering in your ear. Groaning yourself fully awake and grabbing your vibrator to finish the job, that isn’t nearly as good as whatever was happening in your dreams.

Because of these dreams it made it impossible to look at Steve during class, only looking when you absolutely had to. Avoiding Mr. Munson was a bit easier, he either wasn’t home much when you were with Violet, or he was in the garage. You convinced yourself that you would just eventually get over your little crushes, and if you just avoided them long enough then things would go back to normal, and you’d have your sanity back.

But things didn’t quite work out that way. After you had gotten your ticket on the first day, you decided you would just pay it off yourself, to avoid another possibly embarrassing interaction with Steve. You had your parking pass now so you wouldn’t get another ticket. But you had a busy week with assignments and kept forgetting to take care of it. By the end of the week, you had completely forgotten about it, until Fridays sociology class. It was a normal class; Steve was talking about the theoretical approach to sociology. At the end of class, you were supposed to hand in your paper on Social Darwinism, you had spent many late nights making sure that this paper specifically was perfect. The problem was that when you were meant to hand it in at the end of class, you couldn’t find it, and you were starting to panic. Almost all the other students had left or were in the process of handing in their papers and you were left anxiously digging through your bookbag.

“Oh, how the tables turn, need some help there?”

You freeze, looking up from the familiar black converse that you could see next to your bookbag. Your anxious eyes are met with playful honey brown ones, that make you relax slightly.

“Sorry no I’m good I know it’s in here somewhere,” you reply a little anxious. You didn’t want your professor to think that this was any reflection of you as a student or your work ethic.

Steve watches you dig through your bag for another few seconds when you finally find it, in a folder you don’t remember putting it in. When you get the folder out of your bookbag, the ticket sitting at the bottom of your bag falls out onto the floor right at Steves feet. You’re too busy to notice, trying to make sure all of the pages of your paper are in order, and you have all your sources. When you finally look up from the papers in front of you, you see Steve holding the ticket that you got on the first day of school.

You panic and look up and into his eyes, he doesn’t look mad, but he looks confused. “I thought I told you I’d fix this for you if you ever got a ticket. Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.

“I- I didn’t want to bother with you something so silly, I was going to pay it, but with a bunch of papers due, I just forgot I’m sorry,” you blurt out.

Steve raises his hand to silence your apologies casually, and you’re ready for him to yell at you or at the very least be disappointed in you.

Shit, why did you not just pay it the day you got it?

“It’s not your fault honey, there’s no need for you to apologize, okay?” he says warmly. Your shoulders relax a bit more, his voice giving you reassurance.

“I swear I really did mean to pay it, I just didn’t want to bother you,” you confess.

Steves eyes soften. “Y/N you are never a bother, plus it's my fault for being the worst teacher in history and not giving you a parking pass.” He jokes.

“Steve you’re one of my favorite teachers, nowhere near my list of worst teachers.” You reveal.

He smiles widely and raises his eyebrow; you swear you can feel your insides thaw. With the playful look on his face, he almost seems younger, you could only imagine how attractive he was when he was younger, even just a glimpse is enough to make your stomach do flips.

“Oh so there IS list? Well, I demand to know where I am on your favorite teachers list, maybe it’ll give me motivation to try harder in class.” He winks at you in retort. You swear you could cum in your pants right now, how dare he be so beautiful and perfect, and funny.

You think hard for a second, you can’t put him first you think his ego probably couldn’t handle it, also it would just bring you more embarrassment. But he very easily is your favorite teacher, he makes jokes during class, makes sure his lectures are easy to understand and enjoyable, and seems to genuinely care about all his students, it’s very hard to rank any teacher above him.

“I hope your ego can handle it Steve, but you’re second.” you gush.

“You wound me, SECOND? That’s basically failure I demand to know who could possibly rank higher than me?” he jokingly stands up straighter, adjusts his tie, and holds his hand to his heart.

Damn, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Uh, Professor Buckley, my Gender Studies Professor, I love her class,” you confess.

Steves eyes couldn’t roll farther back into his head even if he tried, you almost worried that they’d get stuck.

“You’re telling me, my best friend has already won you over? I’ve sat in on some of her classes and there is no way that Robin is funnier than I am!” he exclaimed as he puts his hands on his hips.

“You know Professor Buckley.. er Robin? Also, you definitely top her in the funny department, how did I know you wouldn’t be satisfied with second.” you retort easily. You could get used to this, the casual flirting, smiling with your professor, it felt easier than breathing. Once you got over the fact that he was one of the most handsome men that you’ve ever seen in your whole life.

“Know her? She’s been my best friend since high school, and a major pain in my ass. Second place is basically losing, everyone knows that babe.” The pet name slipped off his tongue so effortlessly.

Your eyes must have gone wide because Steve looks slightly embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.

Babe babe babe babe babe babe babe HE CALLED YOU BABE

“Well then I guess you gotta step it up Professor.” you reply, trying to ease the tension in the room.

He smiles at you gratefully, “yeah I guess so,” he chuckles.

“Anyways I don’t want to keep you again for the second time this week, I’ll see you in class on Monday Steve.” you say as you go to stand up and walk past him. You’re about halfway to the door before you hear him call out.

“Hey, wait up, uh why don’t you come with me to my office so I can get that parking ticket taken care of for you,” he explains.

“You sure? I don’t want to make you late for your next class.”

“I’m the one who got you into this mess, please let me help you fix it?” he asks gently.

“Lead the way professor,”you answer playfully.

He smiles that flashy Steve Harrington smile and shows you the way towards his office.

“It’s just down this hallway,” he shares.

Then you feel him put his hand at the small of your back guiding you into a room on the righthand side, his touch lights your body on fire. It takes everything in you not to lean into his touch. You can smell his cologne, now that you’re so close to him. It’s a fairly clean scent with hints of musk and spice at the end, a more modern scent then you expected from a man his age. It only makes you want him more, to lean in closer and smell his scent mixed with the cologne.

You’re snapped out of your daze when Steve picks up the phone receiver and punches in a phone number. His fingers almost covered the buttons on the phone, and it made your legs squeeze together, thinking back to the multiple dreams you had about those specific fingers all over you. Steve looks up at you smiling lightly, surely just trying to fill the silence that filled the room. You hoped he hadn’t magically learned how to read minds in the short walk from his classroom to his office or you’d be toast.

His office wasn’t anything glamorous, it was an average size, with a nice desk and comfy looking chair, and big window with a view that overlooked the campus. The only thing making it uniquely his are the loads of pictures of him and Professor Buckley, and a few other guys and girls that looked around his age or maybe a bit younger. Documenting various birthdays, weddings, and get togethers.

While Steve is on the phone you take a moment to look at them, you see a picture of Steve being Professor Buckleys best man in her wedding to a pretty woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. They all looked so happy, it made you smile, it looked like a really special day. Also noting that there are no wedding photos of him or pictures of him with a girlfriend, making your heart internally soar.

When you finally tear your eyes away from the photos, you hear the end of a conversation Steve is having with someone on the phone.

“Thanks again Reg, I promise it won’t happen again. Yeah, you too, take care. Say hi to the wife and kids for me," he said.

He puts down the receiver and looks at where you’re standing, and gestures to the photo you’re looking at.

“Yeah, Robins wedding! It was a really great day,” he reminisces. He goes onto explain that Robin ended up marrying his ex from High School, Nancy Wheeler. You smile and nod along to the anecdotes he talks about that day, trying to absorb everything he tells you about his life like a sponge.

“And by the end of the night Lucas and Max lead everyone in a impromptu sing-a-long to Never Ending Story, It was hilarious,” He says. You could combust, you can see just how clearly he loves his friends and how much they mean to him. He shakes his head and smiles wide at the memory, his smile being infectious, you smile back at him.

“Sounds like really good time Steve,” you reply.

“Yeah, it was, it really was.” he shares, he seems a little lost in thought for a moment before smiling up at you. “Sorry I don’t mean to bore you with my stories of the old days, I don’t get to gush about the people I love very often, so its nice to have someone listen," He confessed.

Your heart melts, he’s such a sweetheart. “No no please, I enjoy hearing them, makes you more a person than just my teacher. Plus, maybe at some point you’ll slip up and tell me something embarrassing about yourself. Then you’re done for Harrington,” you jab.

He raises his eyebrows at you and looks impressed. “That’ll never happen, I’ve never done anything embarrassing in my life ever,” he states sarcastically.

“Well, I’ll just have to ask Professor Buckley, my favorite teacher, about it won’t I?” you interject.

His face goes from his handsome boyish grin to fake terror in a split second, “I will give you whatever grade you want in my class if you don’t do that, she’d go on for hours, might even keep you after class just to rub it in my face.”

You could tell that there was some truth to his words, and you know your gender studies professor well enough to know that she really would just rip him a new one. You giggle back at him, unable to keep it in.

“She really would tear you to shreds, wouldn’t she?” you cackle. His face softens, “Yes she’s evil, just awaiting my downfall I swear!” he smiles softly at you.

You both look at each other a bit longer before Steve clears his throat. “Anyways um, I talked to the guy in campus security and you’re good to go, you don’t have to pay the ticket,” He spoke.

You had honestly completely forgotten that was the reason you were even in his office; his demeanor makes you feel at home in your own skin and were just happy to not have anxious thoughts rolling around inside of your head.

“Oh, right yeah, thank you so much, you really didn’t need to go through all this trouble for me,” you said.

“No trouble at all, really. I should probably get going though, my next class starts soon.” he explained looking at the very expensive looking watch on his wrist.

You try your best not to show your disappointment, wishing to stay in this little bubble with him a bit longer.

“Of course, yeah. Thank you again Steve,” you respond.

He leads you back out the door with his hand on your back again, maybe this time a bit firmer than the last, and you weren’t complaining. You both wave your goodbyes for the weekend before you head out to the parking lot, and he heads towards his next class.

You were relieved to be going home, this first week of school has tested you mentally and emotionally and you were ready for a little break. You hop in your car, and twist your key in the ignition, but to your surprise, instead of your car roaring to life like it usually does. It just stalled, unable to start. You try the ignition a few more times before you rest your head on your steering wheel.

Just your fucking luck

You take your phone out of your jean pocket and call Violet to see if she knows any good mechanics in the area. But you only get her voicemail. “Come on Vi,”you mutter to yourself, trying her cell again and again. Only to get her voicemail each and every time. You couldn’t very well leave your car in the parking lot overnight, then you’d surely get another ticket. But what other option did you have?

You make the decision to call Violet’s home phone, thinking maybe she’s too engrossed in a TV show or something to see her phone going off. It rings a few times before someone picks up.

“Munson residence.” a deep familiar voice answers the phone.

Shit

“Hi Mr. Munson, is Vi there?” you reply.

“Nah she left about an hour or two ago to head to work, everything okay?” he asks a slight concern in his voice.

“Oh uh yeah, my- my car just isn’t starting and I don’t know any mechanics in the area who could come and take a look at it,” you respond anxiously

You hear what you assume is him blowing out some smoke from his mouth, you shake your head trying to stay on track.

“Any mechanic out here is gonna charge you an arm an a leg to come look at your car right before the weekend, let me come and take a look at it myself,” he suggests.

Your body runs cold, you couldn’t deal with another interaction with BOTH of them in the same day again, you’d burst into flames.

“Oh gods no that’s really okay Mr. Munson. I’ll just leave my car here overnight its no big deal, I’ll just walk home its not that far,” You babble anxiously.

You hear him scoff on the other end of the phone, “What do you mean walk home? Where are you Y/N?” his tone getting a bit more serious than the lighthearted goofy tone you usually get from him.

“I’m at school, it’s fine really, my apartment isn’t that far from-,” you squeak.

“Let me just grab my tools and I’ll meet you in the parking lot, which building are you in front of?” he interjects, you can hear some rustling on the other end of the phone.

“I-,“ you think about arguing with him but you know that in the end Mr. Munson is a stubborn man and you will lose. “I’m in front of the Humanities and Social Sciences building, its right by-,“ you confess.

He chuckles “Oh yeah I know the one, be there in a sec, hang tight.” he says before hanging up the phone.

You bring your phone down onto your lap in defeat. You hide in your car until you see his car pull up, you don’t need anyone seeing you, especially a certain sociology professor. His big black truck pulls into the space next to you, and you get out of your car to greet him.

“Hey thanks for coming all the way out here, I hope I didn’t take you away from anything or anyone,” you look up at him innocently. He stands about a foot away from you, but even then, you could see just how much taller he is than you. He could probably use you as an arm rest.

He gives you an easy-going smile, “No problem at all sweetheart, I’m happy to help!” You give him the keys and he goes to try and start the car and it stalls again and he clicks his tongue.

Your mind going back to the dreams you’ve had of his tongue on you, on your skin. You shiver at the thought, and you squeeze your arms around you willing yourself not to fall apart.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with opening the hood and looking inside. He takes off his leather jacket and lays it on top of the hood and rolls up his sleeves. He fiddles around inside of the hood for a few seconds before popping his head around the corner.

“Looks like your spark plug is shot, I have an extra on me in case of emergencies, it’s your lucky day pretty lady,” He announces cheerily.

Pretty lady

“Oh, thank you Mr. Munson, you’re a life saver!” you beam.

He looks at you again one more time, studying you for the second time this week, he looks like he’s contemplating something in his head. His eyes are like lasers on your skin, heating you up from the inside.

“It’s Eddie, you can call me Eddie honey, you’ve known me long enough.” he says as he smiles at you, the edges of his eyes crinkling.

You can’t help but smile back, “Okay, thanks, E-eddie,” you stammer out. His name feeling so odd on your tongue, he’s your best friend’s dad, would Violet think its weird that you call him by his first name now?

He smiles contently like he made the right decision and goes back to working on your car. You lean against his car just watching him work, seeing how his hands knowingly move on all the parts of your car that you don’t even know the names of, only being able to identify the windshield wiper fluid cap and oil fill cap. You look at his now uncovered arms that you didn’t see the last time you got a good look at him, you could see right near his left wrist Violets name tattooed in beautiful cursive, and D20 right above his left elbow. You see how veiny his hands and arms are, probably due to years of playing the guitar and working on various motorcycles and cars.

“So, what are you going to school for?” he says, looking at you through the corner of his eye while he works.

“Psychology mostly,” you reply easily.

“What do you want to do with it? Your degree?” he responds.

“I’d love to work with kids, I felt like no one ever listened to me as a kid, so I’d love to be able to be a safe space for kids to express themselves.” You shared, this was something you’ve been passionate for a while, wanting to work with kids. Giving them something that you never got when you were a kid, a place where they felt understood even if they didn’t feel like that at home.

He looks up at you from his work with an impressed look on his face, “That’s really fucking cool Y/N, I wish stuff like that had been around when I was a kid. Woulda made Middle School and High School a lot more bearable for me, trust me.”

Your heartbreaks at his confession, you figured that he probably wasn’t always the suave sexy metal head that he is now, and he probably got teased a lot when he was a kid. It reminded you of your own experiences in school, teased and never really fitting in anywhere. Violet went through something similar except it never really seemed to bother her, she was always the type of kid that always knew who she was and didn’t let anyone get in her way. You always admired that about her.

“Honestly me too,” you confess.

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you, “No way, You and Vi had loads of friends in Middle School,” he says.

“Yeah, in Middle School sure, but high school was brutal without her there, kids are mean.” You say sadly, rubbing your boot into the asphalt trying to wash away depressing memories of eating in the bathroom and crying yourself to sleep at night.

Eddie scrunches his eyebrows together and nods knowingly, sharing that feeling. “Yeah, teenagers are fucking assholes.”

You nod knowingly, as Eddie steps around the front of your car to get into the driver’s seat, scootching closing to you, grabbing the side of your waist as he passes you. You take a shallow breath, and your mouth runs dry. His hand felt so perfect on your waist, like it belonged there… and then your mind wanders to Steve, his touch felt the same way.

Eddie got into the front seat and turned your key in the ignition, and sure enough your car roared to life.

“Huzzahh!” Eddie cheered, getting out of the driver’s seat and bowing to you. A smile plastered across his face in triumph.

“There ya go honey good as new, although you should stop by the house sometime, so I can put a new battery in your car, it looks like it’s about to take a shit on you, and I want you to be safe during the Winter.” He says casually wiping the oil and grease off his fingers with the rag in his tool kit.

He wants you to be safe

“That would be great, thank you again, honestly I don’t know what I would have done without you. What do I owe you Eddie?” you ask. Surely, he’d want some compensation for driving all the way out here on a Friday, probably ruining his plans to come help his daughters best friend with her car.

“On the house, and don’t fight me on this I’m not accepting any money from you.” He says slightly stern but in a way that makes you smile lightly.

“I’ll figure out a way to make it up to you or something, do you like cookies? I’ll bake you some cookies for all your help,” you insist.

“IF you happen to make double chocolate chip cookies and bring them over to the house, for Violet of course, I wouldn’t say no to one or two,” he says slyly.

“I’ll bring them over this weekend.” you say determined to not be in debt to him.

He packs his tools back into the trunk of his truck and shrugs his leather jacket back on, “I’ll hold you to that sweetheart.” he winks at you before getting back into his truck and waving to you as he drives off the lot.

You get back into your newly fixed car and drive home to your apartment, first thing on the agenda, a very cold shower.

The next few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind of epic proportions. Steve came back with your grades for your latest paper, and when yours got passed to you, at the top of your paper, “SEE ME AFTER CLASS” was written in blue pen. After class he explained that he was “very impressed” with your work and effort you spent on your paper and asked you to be his TA and help him a couple of days a week. Help him with grading papers, answering any questions your classmates had on assignments or class subjects, and help with lectures for upcoming classes. You couldn’t have said yes faster, not only did you have a huge massive crush on him. But you genuinely enjoyed his class and were excited to prove yourself. On those days you spent most of the time after your classes, spent huddled in his office with him grading papers or talking about different upcoming subjects you were going to learn in class. It was becoming one of your favorite parts of your day, you always left his office in the best mood. Plus, the flirting and your attraction to him only grew during this time, you noticed he started going more and more out of his way to touch you, or holding eye contact with you longer than was probably appropriate. You welcomed it, Steve made you feel like you were on cloud nine, some nights the two of you were left in his office until after dark, after all the work was done, just flirting and talking about life. Eating shitty takeout food that he’d grab from the cafeteria or the two of you would order in.

He always treated you with respect letting you talk about your feelings or whatever was on your mind, you eventually opening up to him about why you wanted to go into psychology, and he opened up to you about how he hadn’t always been the way he is now, and how there are parts of his past he’s ashamed of. The two of you bonded over your lack of family you had in your life, you told him about your parents basically ditching you after graduation and he told you about how his parents cut him off when he told them what decided what he wanted to do with his life and hadn’t heard much from him since. He reassured you that the only family that actually mattered was your chosen family and the people who love you that you let into your little corner of the world. You talked about your views on the world and your dreams. You liked that about him, that he listened to you and how modest and genuine he is, you assumed at first glance that someone with good looks like him and his upbringing he’d have an large ego. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, but not in a bad way. You’d come to really like Steve Harrington, he had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match.

Which made it even more confusing on the days that you didn’t spend in his office. See you had saved up enough money for school and your expenses for the first couple of weeks, but that money only stretched so far. So, you looked for a job, and you became desperate. Being in a college town, good jobs that weren’t already taken by other college students were far and few between and being a TA wasn’t enough. So, one night after school when you were at Violets, Eddie overheard you talking about your dilemma, and offered you a job working for him. Eddie worked as a record producer and worked closely with a few music managers who were looking for social media manager. Which you happily accepted, there were no set hours and you could do a majority of your work in your pjs at home unless you needed to get Eddies opinion on something then you’d spend time out in the garage with him while he gave you advice or things the label is looking for in terms of the clients image or engagement numbers you needed to hit.

Sometimes you’d even make up excuses just to go over and spend time with him in the garage. He was patient with you while you slowly opened up to him about things that had happened over the past few years that you never wanted to worry Violet with, cheating boyfriends, bad friends, financial problems, and he took it all with stride, listening to and giving advice where he could. He’d spend time reminiscing about the “glory days” when his band, Corroded Coffin, used to play gigs every weekend at the hideout, a small bar on the outside of town. Or when he was in high school, he ran a club in school called the Hellfire Club where all his friends would play DnD, he even showed you that he got Hell Fire tattooed across his knuckles. You’d spend hours over there just tucked away in Eddies little corner of the house, sometimes he’d play songs for you on his guitar, or when he found out you had never played DnD he spent a few nights teaching you all the basics in case you ever wanted to play. You liked the way you felt when you were around Eddie, in a similar way that Steve did, Eddie quieted your thoughts of self-doubt and anxiety that usually swirled around in your head. You really liked Eddie, and it made your feelings even more confused because you felt guilty keeping all of this from Violet. You didn’t know how she would react to you having a crush on her dad, and you never wanted to put your friendship with her in danger. She was basically the only family you had, and you intended to keep it that way, even if it meant keeping your crush on her father a secret.

It all came to a head about a month later. You were staying late in Steve’s office grading papers while he was reading over some scientific studies that he was going to go over in class that following week. You were reading over a specific paper, a girl who sat behind you in class, who giggled at Steve during the first day of class. She had a lot of typos in her paper, and you had a hard time following her methods and asked for Steves opinion. He got up from his desk and went over to the other side of his desk where you were sitting, hovering over you so his face was close to yours. You loved when he did this, being able to see the honey bits in his eyes or the way his eyebrows scrunch together when he was thinking really hard, or how he ran his tongue along his lips to wet them.

For some reason the air in the room seems extra electrified, the tension being so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Your breath hitched as he got extra close to read a specific part in the paper, you could smell his cologne so clearly it was intoxicating. Steve turned to you to tell you what points to dock from her paper, but you didn’t hear a single word he was saying, it was all drowned out by the lust you felt for him. You think he could sense it too, his eyes kept flickering between your eyes and your lips.

Oh gods was this really happening?

You could see his face getting closer and closer to yours, you closed your eyes, bracing for impact. Your heart was beating faster than you ever thought humanly possible. And then, he kissed you. More intensely than you’d ever been kissed before, he started out soft, testing the waters. Slowly brushing his lips against yours, working up intensity until his tongue prodded your lips asking for an invitation in. The invitation happily accepted by you, you welcomed him in with your lips and sighed into the kiss, allowing your hand to grasp at the hairs at the nape of his neck. He held onto the side of your face like if he let go, you’d vanish. You kissed like this for a minute or two, lips melding together and tongues intertwining. He tasted like his spearmint gum that he chews sometimes, and his lips were softer than you ever thought humanly possible.

But as quickly as it started, it stopped. Steve de-tangled himself from your grip and stood back.

“Fuck, holy shit, I- Y/N I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that. I’m your teacher for Christ’s sake… FUCK!” he shouted.

You jump at the volume of his voice, you were not used to this Steve, or the tone he was using. He paced around the room for a few minutes, and you looked at your shoes embarrassed. Embarrassed because you weren’t sorry it happened. You had been dreaming for weeks about what his lips would feel like or what he'd taste like.

“I’m not Steve, you don’t need to be sorry because.. because I wanted it to happen, I’ll only be your student for a few more months and then after that we can do whatever we want,” you blurt out in desperation. Allowing the thoughts and dreams that hide in your head to spill out of your mouth. Steve sighs and sits back down in his chair, taking his glasses off his face and pinching the bridge of his nose with his middle finger and thumb.

“I- I think you should just go Y/N, I need to figure out what to do. This shouldn’t have happened and I’m sorry it did,” he murmurs.

His words act like daggers in your heart, stealing all the breath from your lungs. All the worst-case scenarios that played out in your head when you felt insecure, now playing out right in front of you. You were angry, you know he feels the same way but he’s too much of a coward to do anything about it.

“Fuck you Steve, fuck you!” you bite out through your teeth, not allowing the tears to flow from your eyes, just yet. He just rejected you, the last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry. You pack up all the things that had been splayed-out all over Steve’s desk, shoving them into your bookbag, and storming out of the room.

Before you’re even out of the building the tears start streaming down your face, you choke back sobs as you get into your car. You bury your head in your hands, your shoulders shaking from how hard you were crying. You can’t go home, you thought. Not to an empty apartment where it’s even more apparent just how alone you are.

You put the key into the ignition and go to the only other place in town that you can think of going to, Violet’s house. You prayed to any god that could hear you, that Violet was home, but Eddie was not. You did not want him to see you like this, especially over a guy. He’d heard all the pathetic stories of love that hadn’t worked out you didn’t need to add another to the list.

Somehow luck was on your side with this, Eddie’s car was not in the driveway, only Violets. You get out of the car, not even bothering to lock it and run up to the door and let yourself inside with the key Violet had given you after your first week in Hawkins. Tears still streaming down your face, you take in your new surroundings; Violet was sitting on the couch watching some dumb rom com and eating popcorn. She looks startled by the sudden intrusion and the state you were in. Your mascara all smudged, and you had tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N? What happened?” she coos. She gets off the couch and walks over to you, her face softens when she gets closer to you, her face now shrouded in worry. She pulls you fiercely into a hug and just lets you cry on her shoulder. Eventually she brings you over to the couch and she gets you to tell her the events that have unfolded. She listened intently while you told her about your professor and how you felt about him, and then about how he rejected you after a mind-blowing kiss. She held your hand the entire time, rubbing soothing circles into your hand.

Just as you had finished telling her what happened you heard the familiar jingle of the doorknob and the heavy boots that followed. You couldn’t look at him right now, not when you looked like this.

“Hey, hey party people, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight I shoulda got more beer from the store!” Eddie sang. The closer Eddie got to you he realized something was off and stopped in his tracks.

“Now’s not a good time dad,” Violet said, still focusing her attention on you.

“What happened? Y/N are you okay? Are you hurt? Did something happen with your car?” his questions flying by you a million miles a minute. Too exhausted to say anything you let Violet speak for you.

“She kissed a guy at school, and he rejected her,” Violet says as softly as she can.

“Y/N kissed a guy at school?” he said, you could hear an edge in his voice that made you flinch slightly.

“Yes, dad god did you have to repeat it? She’s been through enough tonight. Come Y/N lets go upstairs.” She says clearly annoyed with her dad’s lack of empathy.

You couldn’t bear to look at Eddie, so you allow Violet to usher you upstairs into her room. You two cuddle up in her bed, she lets you borrow some clothes to spend the night in and gives you a makeup wipe to wash the mascara and mostly cried off eyeliner off your face. You felt so taken care of by her, you remember you used to do this for her in Middle School when boys would be shitheads to her, it took a lot to break Violet, but boys are the worst.

At some point Violet fell asleep when you guys were listening to a true crime podcast, you felt your tummy grumble and slowly slipped out of her room to find a snack in the kitchen. You were so worked up after the incident with Steve you had forgotten to eat something more than a few handfuls of popcorn. Downstairs was more quiet than usual, you couldn’t hear soft metal music coming from the garage or Eddies light humming. You assumed maybe he had gone out for the night.

Until he scared the shit out of you sitting at the kitchen table, silently. He looked upset, nursing a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

“Holy fuck you scared me, warn a woman, jeez!” you say, sounding a little more like your normal self when your alone with him. Usually, Eddie would retort with a smart-ass remark, but instead you got silence and a slight sad smile on his face. You sense he’s not in the mood, so you move farther into the kitchen to grab yourself an iced tea from the fridge and make yourself a sandwich.

It was usually never this awkward between the two of you, it broke your heart a bit. You just lost Steve and now it felt like you were losing Eddie too.

“Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?” he asked quietly.

You jumped a little not expecting him to speak. Trying to word things very carefully so there was no confusion.

“He kissed me and then I kissed him back, and then he broke off the kiss and told me to leave.” You sigh sadly and take a big gulp of your iced tea.

“Idiot.” he muttered under his breath.

You thought that’s what you heard but you didn’t know for certain.

“What?” you question.

“I said he’s an idiot.” he said a bit louder for you to hear clearly.

That made your aching heart flutter inside your chest. Men are impossible to read.

“Oh.” you murmur, not really sure what to say.

“He’s an idiot because I’d never let a girl like you go,” he says calmly.

You heart could beat outside of your chest right now, his words set your skin on fire. But you were simultaneously hit with overwhelming guilt. Violet. Your best friend. The one sleeping soundly upstairs who would never do anything to hurt you.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot more at stake here,” You say trying to tread lightly.

He abruptly pushes out of his chair and heads to the garage door. “Yeah I know.” he says, sounding a mix between disappointed and angry.

You could feel a new rush of tears welling in your eyes, not only did you lose Steve today, but you were going to lose Eddie too. Two out of your three safe spaces, gone in one day. You felt so small, like you were free falling and you couldn’t grab anything to save yourself.

“What do you want from me Eddie?” you say defeated, barely above a whisper.

Eddie stops at your words, opening up the door to the garage, so close to freedom. His eyes now soft, seeing the state of you. “Nothing sweetheart, I want nothing from you.”

You just nod at his words, slouching your shoulders trying to protect your broken heart. Willing yourself to accept the fact that you lost both of them today, and there’s nothing that you can do to change it. You look at the floor, watching your tears slowly cloud your vision. You just hoped he left the room before you start actually crying.

Then you hear the garage door shut and feel the last of your heart shatter with it. You look up to confirm what your heart already knew, that Eddie was gone.

But where a closed door should be, showed the outline of Eddie standing in front of a closed door. You tried to blink away the tears, to try and figure out if you were seeing things correctly. The look on Eddies face was between a mixture of pain and confliction, his fists squeezed at his sides.

“Fuck it.” is the last thing you hear him say before he takes long strides over to you in the kitchen. Now right in front of you he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you firmly. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to stay. His calloused hands wiping away your tears. You moan into his touch, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to dance with yours. He kisses you with such passion, showing you with actions he what couldn’t say with his words. You push him impossibly closer to you, willing the two of you to meld into one if that what it took, not letting him have the chance to leave you. He takes that as an invitation to lift you up and put you on the ledge of the kitchen counter. Your legs caging him in on either side of his body.

“Please don’t go.” you mutter wetly between kisses. Eddie moves from your mouth and leaves kisses from the edges of your wet eyes to a part on your neck that made your skin irrupt in goosebumps.

“Never baby, m not goin anywhere I promise.” he reassures nuzzling his nose against a sweet spot on your neck. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Feeling a little better than you did a minute ago. Kissing Eddie made every other rational thought cease to exist in your brain. Just you, and Eddie, your bodies moving in tandem with each other. Harmony.

No Pressure Tags: **Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!**

@untitled74745 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @lesservillain

@starkeysprincess @tlclick73 @cozyquinn @rowanswriting @succubusmunson @teddyeyeseddie @lofaewrites @chaoticmunsons @ryan-waddell11 @sweetblinginrose @paleidiot

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #older! eddie munson #older! steve harrington #older steve harrington #older eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader #eddie munson x steve harrington x reader #chaoticharrington fics

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rainba · 3 days

Note

Since you made a fic of Luka kidnapping Kairos and his darling, I'm lowkey curious about what would happen if Kairos kidnapped them both. Like it seems kind of unlikely, but I'm super curious. (1/2)

Also could I be 🪻 anon??

— 🪻

Hihiii! :D Yes, you can be 🪻 anon!

If Kairos kidnapped the both of you? Yeah, it is very unlikely- and honestly, he would be an absolute disaster. The entire situation would be.

(￣▽￣*)ゞ

cw: nsfw, kidnapping, Kairos and Luka being their usual selves, minor violence

GN reader like usual :3c

Kairos would definitely panic when he first kidnaps you both. It would be something he hardly thinks through- a spur-of-the-moment type of thing. So, he'd have to improvise a lot of stuff at first. (´-ω-`)

There’re too many windows in his living room, and Kairos doesn’t want to keep anyone tied up in his bathroom or kitchen or anything– so Kairos would have no choice but to keep both you and Luka tied up in his bedroom.

Kairos would be so scared of Luka, despite the fact that he’s the hostage, and not the other way around. ^^;;;;

Kairos would tie up Luka’s wrists behind his back, then wrap duct tape around them, and also put cheap plastic cuffs on them. The same thing with Luka’s applies to Luka’s ankles– and then he’d also be leashed up to the heaviest object in Kairos’ bed.

Is it excessive? Yes. Is Kairos willing to take any chances?? Absolutely not! (o^ ^o)

Meanwhile, Kairos would just have you tied up very lightly, and you’ll be forced to reside in his bed. >_< He would surround you with stuffed animals, pillows, and blankets. It's basically a nest of sorts.

Kairos wouldn’t really know what to do. He's aware that he can’t just keep Luka bound and gagged forever– but at the same time, he knows that the second he lets that man have even an ounce of freedom, everything will be over.

Luka knows this, too.

Every time Kairos undoes the duct tape around Luka’s mouth, he’s quick to throw snide remarks at his trembling captor.

“So, what’s your plan? How long do you intend to keep me here?”

Kairos pauses, his entire body freezing in place.

“You might as well kill me. If you can't even do that, then you should just let me go.”

Luka’s tone of voice is smug, confident. When he leans in closer, Kairos backs away.

“I– I… I…” Kairos stutters on the first word, unable to say anything past it.

“You can’t keep this up forever.”

Kairos would completely lash out, stricken with intense panic. He wraps his small hands around Luka’s neck and squeezes, but he can never bring himself to finish the job. He pushes a knife up against Luka’s throat, but he never has the courage to cut.

Instead, Kairos always ends up putting the duct tape back over Luka’s mouth, then proceeds to pace around the room while nervously biting his nails.

That’s just what happens with Luka, though… When it comes to you, he absolutely spoils you! Which isn't shocking at all. He’ll give you real food while handing Luka whatever you didn't touch. Kairos constantly gives you tiny sweets and treats while completely ignoring Luka, who’d be glaring daggers at him.

One thing that Kairos would like about this situation, though, is how he gets to fuck you in front of the man who tried to take you away from him. Kairos would position Luka in a way that forces him to watch– and it’s kind of funny. For once, Kairos truly feels like he’s in control. (o^ ^o)

And it’s a little bit torturous for Luka.

For the first time, Luka despises having amazing hearing, because god…

He can hear every little thrust. Every tiny whimper. The wet sounds of skin-on-skin slapping is exacerbated to a disgusting degree.

…Sigh.

#ask #kairos posting #luka posting

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midastouch-zaza · 23 hours

Note

Irene giving lucky fan the best handjob and bj of their life while watching and groping her topless (with a bit of licking and sucking) then finishing lucky fan on her bosom and abs, then coming back out to the fanmeeting event without anyone else knowing (plus members) except her and lucky fan ofc like nothing happened between them just because she had a thing for that lucky fan since before, only for her to have the guts to finally do it on that particular day. Lucky fan goes home with a recording of their private encounter taken with her phone earlier and having it sent to their phone after finishing the fanmeet along with her number.

P.S: Pics for damage control…or not. 🔥😩

[Bro, you can't add these pics to your request and call it damage control, I'm living with a constant brainrot and it's your fault 😵‍💫🫠]

There are different types of lucky fan: there's the one who gets the photocard of his bias in the album, then there is the one who manages to stand in the first row during the concert of his ult group...and then there's you, sitting on a random couch, while your bias, Irene, is stroking your cock.

But let's take a step back, how did you end up in this situation? For sure it was not what you expected from the fan meeting. You were just happy from seeing your favorite girls. It didn't matter if the hall was full of people, for you it was like there were just you and the five of them.

Then something called "the lucky draw" happened: a chance to spend some extra time with your bias during the fan-meeting. You didn't even think about it, until suddendly Irene called your name.

How did that happen? And how did the staff know your bias was her? It was all so strange, but honestly you were not intentioned to make any question, especially with a staff member already taking you in the backstage.

And now you were walking around in this small room barely decorated: a couch, a table, some chair, a lamp, some snacks and some bottle of water. Suddendly the door opened and an angel came in, smiling warmly at you.

"So finally we meet", Irene said, shyly walking towards you. "Uh? Do you know me?", you asked confused by her words. "Of course I do, I've been observing you for a long time, you're such a precious fan to me, always so supportive, enthusiastic and... handsome", she praised you, caressing your cheek now that she was standing in front of you.

"Oh...thank you, Irene, I'm glad you appreciate my support, it's my pleasure! So, how does this extra time work-", your question was cut off when suddendly the leader pushed you lightly, making you fall on the couch behind you.

"Hey, what was tha-", once again your words got stuck in your throat, this time because you saw her taking off her shirt, revealing her her bare chest to you, before nonchalantly sitting next to you.

"This extra time just exist to make you feel good, so don't worry about anything and just enjoy", she said, winking at you and striking some silly pose to emphasize her perky tits. "Come on, no need to feel shy with your bias", she encouraged you, taking your hands and placing them on her bosom.

"Fuck, Irene, your boobs are amazing", you admitted, making her giggle happily. "Ehehe, thank you, cutie", she thanked you, before her hands quickly rushed to your jeans zip, pulling it and taking out your hard shaft.

"Ohhh, is this big boy just for me? I knew you were a good choice", she commented, measuring your member with her fingers before slowly stroking it. "Irene, your hands are so soft", you moaned, making her stick out her tongue in happiness.

"And you didn't even tried my mouth", she whispered in your ear, making your cock way more hard. Furthermore your hands started to play with her nipples after that tease, eventually also caressing her abs.

"Ohhh, you really appreciate all of me, you're such a true fan", she kept praising you, while her hands were gaining speed, so she decided to spit on your cock, making all more smooth and easy. Her hand now was going up and down without any obstacle on its road.

"Good boy, cum for me, show your bias how much you love her. Oh, wait...I know what can help you", she realized, smirking before pulling your lips against hers. It was not a kiss, it was not making out, she was basically licking the inside of your mouth.

There was something so naughty about that action that made your cock, already at its limit, just explode, covering her hand and abs with the sticky cum. In a moment of numbness of your senses, your head moved automatically, going to taste the nipples of your bias.

"Yeah, have a good taste of my body, handsome", she giggled like if she was the fan, never ending to stroke your sensitive cock; and in fact, after few moments, it was ready to go again. "Sorry, if I pull away, but I promised to make you feel my mouth", she explained, getting on her knees between your legs.

You couldn't believe your eyes: one of the most gorgeous and elegant women on earth was ready to serve you a blowjob just because you were a good fan. "My God, this moment is so amazing, I would like to record it with my phone", you blurted out, making the girl stop suddendly and look at you.

Did you just ruin everything? Was she about to snap at you? Did your mouth just fuck it up? "Do it", she said simply instead. "What?", you asked, not believing to your ears now. "Do it, record me while I suck your fat cock, I want you to watch that over and over at home", she reassured you, waiting for you to pull out the device.

You immediately executed her request, opening the camera app and starting to film her. "Good boy, look how your bias taste your cock", she warned you, slapping your tip againt her tongue, before her tongue was actually the one moving around the tip.

It was such a good tickle. "Mmh, delicious, let me check this full balls too", she told you, moving a bit down to suck on your balls, swelling her cheeks. "How do I look with your balls in my mouth and your cock on my face?", she asked purring.

"So... fucking hot", you managed to answer, avoiding to your brain to explode. "Just what I wanted to hear", she grinned, and then finally took your dick in her mouth, going deep until you could feel her breath on your crotch.

"You have to be my first fan to know my throat is so deep", she joked, but that sentence made your cock extra hard. You were the first fan to break Irene cold side and to see her slutty side, it was like a fucking dream.

Her blowjob was not just deep, she was like a vacuum, sucking you so powerfully that some moments you felt like your ass was getting lifted. "Do you like it, handsome? How is your bias at sucking cocks?", she asked, in a moment of pause, hitting her cheeks with your shaft for the camera.

"You're amazing, Irene, you must be the queen of deepthroats, nobody can beat you, you're my ult bias for a reason", you showed her in praises, making her eyes sparkle. "You're right, I'm your bias and I'm the one responsible to empty your balls", she affirmed with fire in the eyes.

The next minutes it was just sucking so instense that in some frames your hands was shaking. Furthermore Irene did never stop to look at you after that pause, showing your her sluttiest expressions: she was loving eating that cock of yours.

Sadly even if the most beautiful things have reach an end, but not before of their peak. In fact Irene didn't stopped a second to suck you and you were on the verge of cum, she could feel your cock throbbing, so she pulled It out, stroking it with both her hands.

"Yes, big boy, give me all your warm cum, cover your slutty bias with your seed, I want you to paint me white", she begged, absolutely destroying your cock. You couldn't see the scene, because the orgasm that arrived was so strong you had to close your eyes, but watching later that video you could admire how you made such a beautiful mess: hitting both her face and tits with your sperm.

She gave you a couple of final kisses on your flaccid dick, after licking it clean, the perfect final for your recording. "I hope you enjoyed our time together. Oh, and that video...when you have time, send it to this number", she requested, writing something on your arm, and then she left.

When you returned to that main hall, you discovered some interesting things; first of all you've been the only one spending the extra time...in that way, in fact the fan chosen for the other members simply chatted, played some games or took pics together.

The second interesting fact you noticed was you were the only male at that fan-meeting. Before you were too happy to care about other people, but now it was clear that somehow it looked all so strange, you were sure there was Irene herself behind all of this.

Then the fan-meeting went ahead in its classic way. When it was your turn to talk with her, she simply smiled at your warmly and winked, nothing too suspicious. Even the other members seemed to ignore what happened on that couch.

Once at home, you immediately send the video to the number, who you discovered being her personal contact. She didn't answered, just reached with a white heart. You sighed, and then smiled, and then immediately started to fap to the video. Maybe she didn't answer now, but after all also her was masturbating looking at her phone, remembering that crazy fan-meeting.

#kpop smut #kpop thoughts #girl group smut #kpop x male reader #girl groups x male reader #red velvet x male reader #red velvet smut #red velvet irene #irene x male reader #irene smut

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cultofdixon · 1 day

Text

Plagued by the horrors of the past

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • All Daryl wants to do is make sure his pregnant partner remains safe, even from the nightmares • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Nightmares / Minor Injuries

Requested by: Anon

Eeny…WACK

Meeny…WACK

Miny…WACK

Negan stopped right in front of Y/N gripping the handle of Lucille with both hands.

“Moe” and right before the bat met her skull

Y/N opened her eyes feeling the tightness in her chest grow worse but she relaxed slightly when feeling her husband secure his arm around her middle just above her bump. She gently tapped his arm indicating for him to let go so she could get up and pee. At least that’s what Daryl thinks.

But all she did was sit on the edge of the bathtub holding her belly and thinking about her nightmare.

It’s been happening since she found out she was pregnant. Along with a million other things that made her feel guilty since the end of the Savior’s war.

How could you?

How could you be happy and pregnant with a loving husband when your best friend lost hers?

He will never get to see his son grow up.

Never get to hold his loving wife at night and whisper sweet nothings to her.

Same with Abe and Sasha.

They never got the life they wanted to share with each other.

But you did.

Isn’t that selfish?

“Sunshine…”

His voice startled her slightly as she lifted her head showing the exhaustion written all over her face.

“Are you feeling alright?” Daryl knelt on the cold tile positioning himself in front of her and resting his hand on her belly which brought out a more concerned look. “She giving you trouble?”

“No she’s perfect…and I’m just. Tired” Y/N sighs running her hand through her hair as she watches Daryl bring himself back to a standing position, extending his hands to her.

“I don’t think being in here will help much with that” Daryl knew about the nightmares. He tries to help in any way without addressing it because Y/N would deny that she’s not ok. Constantly telling him she’s fine.

He knows she’s not.

Y/N did manage to get at least three hours in before she received a hard kick in the ribs which woke her that time. Besides it was the now morning instead of late in the night when she woke so time to do things around the place. Even if Daryl tells her not to do a lot of things. But to his surprise…

“I think you should take it—-“

“I’m gonna lay in bed for a bit longer…don’t let me hold you back from your day, Dar” Y/N didn’t see the worry in his face when she said such, even if it’s what he wanted. For her to take it easy.

Daryl readjusted himself to lean against the headboard noticing Y/N inch closer when he did such. He brought his arm around her shoulders leading her to lay on him and while she was hesitant at first, she didn’t care for much long and brought herself to lay on him.

“You won’t be late for anything?”

“Don’t got stuff til the afternoon.” Daryl gave her a soft smile that she didn’t see. But it was obvious to why. Y/N fell back asleep in his embrace, snuggling closer when she felt his lips press a soft kiss to her hairline. He did have stuff in the morning. But didn’t care.

When it came to actually help around the community, Daryl kept his attention on Y/N whenever he saw her while he helped Aaron fix the gate mechanism. Aaron would glance over every time Daryl did and that would spark a few things.

“How far along?”

“What?”

“Y/N. When are you going to experience the joys of a baby like I’ve been experiencing?

“Didn’t you say Gracie projectile vomit on your shirt this morning?”

“Yeah…but there are other things” Aaron laughs handing Daryl the new wheel. “You can see the exhaustion on Y/N’s face so she must be far”

“Six months, and it ain’t cuz she’s carrying” Daryl knelt to the floor with what he needed to replace the gate wheel. “She hasn’t been sleeping”

“No? Think she’d need a sedative? I bet you Siddiq can find something that will be fine for her and the baby” Aaron tried to find a solution as Daryl kept his focus on finishing the task at hand so he could keep an eye on her.

But she was simply reading another baby book that Carol found for Daryl originally while sat on the porch. Which also meant Y/N put herself in a position for anybody to approach her.

“Do you think he looks like Glenn?”

Y/N shot her head up from her book with a confused look being met with an equally confused one from Rick. “What?”

“I asked how are you feeling”

“Oh, I’m just…tired.” She breathed out a laugh, setting her book down for a moment.

“I bet. Lori used to fall asleep anywhere when she was pregnant with Carl, then well. With Judith she kept having to move around remember?” Rick invited himself to sit with Y/N which made her tense slightly but he didn’t read that. “I would appreciate the shit we have now. You’re safe to have your baby. Have a doctor. Can rest when you want. The whole package…”

“Are you…trying to make me feel bad?” Y/N questioned watching Rick instantly turn his head at her.

“No why would you say that?”

“Because I know what we have now compared to when times were extremely difficult…are you…” Y/N didn’t know where she was going with her words and decided to forget it. She grabbed her book along with the mug she brought out earlier and made her way inside. “I’m sorry” she whispered before shutting the door behind her.

Rick sat there for a moment, feeling more confused than anything. But there was a hint of regret for his words. He struck something and she wasn’t going to tell him. Especially not him. As he left the porch to take care of something, Daryl noticed from his spot and wanted to leave his task to check on his wife because at one point she was outside, then Rick appeared, now she’s nowhere in sight.

“Go”

“Huh?”

“Go check on her. I know you want to” Aaron has been around Daryl long enough to understand his body language.

“I owe yea, Aaron” Daryl tells him while setting his tools back in their box along with his gloves before leaving.

The sound of the door opening snapped Y/N out of her thoughts as she lifted her head from resting against the couch watching Daryl look for her and instantly lock onto her in the living room.

“Are you okay?” Daryl brought himself to sit with her watching her nod with a small smile. “Are you sure?”

Y/N didn’t know what to say as all she did was shake her head before bringing herself into his lap keeping mind of her bump. Daryl instantly wrapped his arms around her after helping her get comfortable.

“Can you stay home the rest of the day?” She whispers feeling his hand sprawl itself on her bump as she rest her hand on top of his.

“Of course, sunshine” He felt her relax when he said such.

The rest of their day consisted of staying on the couch, making dinner together, running a bath for Y/N, working on Daryl’s bike while she relaxed in the bath, and then helping her with her night routine before going to bed together like every night.

“What do you have to do tomorrow?” Y/N asked as she adjusted her pillows for her to sit up while Daryl rubbed her feet using a lotion gifted from Carol.

“Mmm. Just a watch shift I think, and to check the snares. I shouldn’t be out long”

“…can I join you?”

His immediate answer would be no and the look in his eyes gave that away. But Daryl seemed to go against what his mind was telling him.

“As long as yea take it easy” Daryl says calmly while working on a knot in her sole. “You can even bring your hunting rifle and we’ll check out the closest hunting grounds”

“Babe…are you messing with me?” Y/N pulled her foot away watching Daryl bring himself to lay beside her propped up.

“When was the last time I messed with yea?”

“I dunno…”

“Then I ain’t messing with yea. As long as yea take it easy, and follow my lead. We can do this. Okay?” He gave her a smile as she nods before shifting to lay down watching him do the same after he turned off the lamp.

Listen carefully…I will always have a chokehold on your life. That when you least expect it

Daryl and your baby are as good as dead

Y/N jolted awake instantly reaching for her belly making sure everything was alright as for her movement she woke her partner.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing. It’s…” Y/N felt the baby kick and only started to sob afterward. Daryl fully brought himself to wrap around her bringing her close to him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay” Daryl held her close in hopes the sobbing would stop. But she cried for an hour and he did his best to calm her even if after the sobbing resulted in both staying up the remainder of the night.

When the next day came around, Michonne took it upon herself to check on the Dixons given Daryl didn’t relieve her of her watch and an Alexandrian had to take it. She knocked a few times and waited an appropriate amount of time before letting herself in finding Daryl blankly staring at a French press he found to make coffee for him and tea for his partner. But when Michonne drew close, he snapped out of his daze and realized he didn’t even get it ready with either caffeinated beverage.

“Long night?”

Daryl quickly turned to her realizing he forgot and cursed under his breath. “Sorry. I was supposed to take watch after yea”

“It’s okay, someone took care of it” Michonne gestured for him to sit as she took care of getting the coffee and tea ready for them. “Where’s Y/N?”

“Nesting. She didn’t want me to help until I’ve made tea for her but I honestly think she said that so I wouldn’t talk about last night”

“What happened last night?”

“A night terror? Nightmare. Whichever. She had a bad reaction and couldn’t sleep. So I didn’t sleep” Daryl frowns watching a cup of coffee come into view giving his thanks.

“Yknow. Rick won’t admit it. Nor would he tell you what he thinks he did.” Michonne poured herself a cup given her early morning shift. “He gets nightmares about Carl and his…failure in saving him. He gets a few about the line up and he cries in his sleep.”

Daryl took in a sharp inhale before sipping his coffee. He knew what could be plaguing his wife’s mind during these moments, but never thought she would be too afraid to tell him about them.

“What did Rick do?”

“He thinks he made Y/N feel guilty for the luxuries we have that clearly…those we’ve lost will never have.”

“Well. He’d have to pay for that” Daryl jokes, for the most part. “But her nightmares started since before she was pregnant. They weren’t as bad…guess her emotions are all over the place because of the pregnancy”

“It does that” Michonne laughs lightly as the lightheartedness only lasted a few seconds when they both heard a crash upstairs. Resulting in both of them quickly running to the commotion.

Y/N tried to move the crib and given its weight, she misstepped accidentally cutting herself on a sharp corner which Daryl took note to sand down later.

Now in the infirmary, Siddiq had checked the baby before taking the time to stitch up her arm so it would less likely scar. Not that she minded scars but after being told neither of them have slept and have been having a hard time, he wanted to bring some relief in it all.

“Do I need to be forced on bed rest?”

“No? You only cut yourself and your blood pressure went down after the crisis was averted. I’d take it easy but you don’t have to be confined to a bed” Siddiq finished with the wrap and handed Daryl extra bandages for the future redressing.

“She’s uh. She’s been having—-“

“Nightmares…” Y/N frowns. “Do you think you have sleep medication?”

“I do…but I don’t think you’ll need it” Siddiq taped the bandage to be secure, giving the rest of the roll to Daryl. “I think you’ll do better with a change in scenery”

“And what do you suggest?”

It took about two weeks to plan this out and Carol was more than happy to welcome her two closest friends, her family, into the Kingdom to stay for a while. Even if it meant living in a studio like apartment, not that Y/N cared. She was just happy to be with Carol and Ezekiel…while outside the radius of Negan’s presence.

“I’m surprised Daryl let you drive here”

“It’s just so he could have his bike” Y/N laughs softly.

“His first love if you will” Carol jokes receiving a hearty laugh from Y/N as she took her hands into hers admiring her and the bump for a moment. “He really is getting the life he’s always deserved”

“He sure is”

“Cmon, let me help you get settled. Let him scout around the place” Carol smiles wrapping her arm around Y/N leading her to the living quarters.

After a while Daryl found himself sat on the edge of the bed in sweats waiting for his wife to finish getting ready. He brought his attention from the floor toward the sound of the bathroom door opening and Y/N making her way toward him.

“You don’t like it here”

“What do you mean?”

“New place. For however long…you know we’ll go back right?”

“What if you don’t want to?”

“Alexandria is my home, Daryl. Where we found security, where we got married…and I want to raise our baby there. I just…needed a break, from being constantly reminded that Negan is still alive and what he took from us”

“Rick was a moron for keeping him alive” Daryl frowns as Y/N sat beside him taking his hand resting it on her bump letting their little one kick against the touch making his frown fade. “All I want to do is take care of you. The both of you”

“And you are. We will go home”

“Once you’re comfortable. Okay? I’ll help around the Kingdom and Carol will definitely hover around yea if I’m not”

“That’s okay” She laughs resting her head on his shoulder. “You better take it easy too. Negan took a lot from the both of us”

“I will”

The night progressed as Daryl found himself wrapped around Y/N, hand on her bump as her hand rested on top of his. Her finally asleep without stirring to anything but his small movements and even then, she went back to sleep immediately.

Honestly they’ve stayed in bed for a few days…enjoying the quiet and peacefulness

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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