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eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

Text

as if

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie taunts reader daily, but… she kinda likes it? just never does anything about it. not until she has to tutor him, anyway.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 7,901 words

content/warnings: swearing, some angst at the beginning kinda, mention of death (barb), SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, arguing, breeding kink, hate sex, brief masturbation mentions, mocking, teasing, anxiety kinda, spitting, invasion of privacy (eddie goes through her things), eddie’s a dirty lil pantie stealer and sniffer, y/n is a c*m sl*t, bulge kink(?), dacryphilia, groping, choking, daddy kink if you squint real hard, mentions of virginity (y/n is not a virgin), pet names (doll face, princess), degradation (use of slut). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: i have to say tbh i don’t see eddie ever being a bully so this is technically like an au!eddie?…but also… uhhhh very hot. makes my brain wiggle with heat waves so here we are. hope you like it! <3

part two - part three

As if.

It’s a simple statement, really, and you meant no harm when you said it. It was just something to be said… that didn’t mean he didn’t hear it though.

That also didn’t mean it didn’t tick him off.

You were surprisingly pretty to be in the geek group, but in the cruel and tyrannical world of high school girls..? Alas, no amount of lip gloss or cute skirts could free you of the fact that you were smart. Not only smart, but a geek. A nerd—who was shy around most—and you got along with nearly all of the teachers because of how well-behaved and intelligent you were. And, on occasion—although you always tried your best to not come off this way—a bit of a know-it-all.

That was the final nail in your coffin, really. Correcting Carol Perkins in American History in front of everyone back in your freshman year. (Her sophomore year and already irritable about having to take a freshman course 2 years in a row). You meant well, but she had it out for you ever since. The tyrant, as it was, made it entirely impossible for you to make your way up the food chain.

So in your sophomore year of high school, back in Autumn of ‘83, you were among the peasants just like him—even as a senior (for the first time). He took a quiet interest in you. You were cute and soft-spoken. You were a sophomore, though, and the fact that you were 15 at the time made the 17 year old scrunch up his nose whenever he remembered. He could still look, though, right? There was no harm in that…

Nancy and Barb took notice of it all pretty quickly. The way that the senior would scan over your outfits everyday. The way that he might’ve smirked a little if you had to bend over to pick something up, simply staring at your behind rather than coming over to get your things for you. The pair would exchange glances that you were adorably unaware of, over his attention that you were also so endearingly oblivious to. One day, they finally burst over it in the hallway, and he overheard.

“I think a senior likes you.” Nancy teased, gripping her Geometry textbook to her chest.

“What?” You had let out a slight laugh, digging through you locker. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Barb interjected. “Aren’t you supposed to be smart? Observant?”

You were all wide-eyed over that, pouty lips opening and then closing as you struggled to find your words before finally landing on a frustrated huff and a simple “Shut up.”

“He stares at you all the time.” Nancy pushed with a teasing smile.

“Like you can talk.” You teased, slamming your locker shut before resting your back against it. “Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington is totally all over you.” You smirked at the way her face instantly heated up.

“I- He- It’s not like that.” She insisted, completely flustered. And while Barb agreed with you, she wasn’t interested in letting you direct the conversation elsewhere.

“Besides he’s just a Junior. The guy who likes you is a Senior.” Nancy tacked on.

“Like there’s really that big of a difference?” You raised a brow.

“There is.” Barb scoffs.

“Well then if it’s such a huge deal… can’t you just tell me who it is?”

“You seriously don’t know?” Barb questioned and the ginger-brunette pair tilted their heads while they looked at you with a sort of exasperated disbelief. You just gave them that wide eyed look again and shrugged your shoulders.

Barb broke first with a scoff and a bright smile. “Eddie Munson. He stares at you all the time.”

Eddie Munson. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he was still a Senior. He was still attractive to you, and could still make an underclassmen blush if he gave them any attention simply because he was older and a little dangerous. He just didn’t show any interest in any of the other younger students, just a little curiosity towards you.

“Eddie Munson?” You had laughed a little, which made him furrow his brows as he listened in just around the corner of the hall at his own locker. You were being dismissive out of nerves, not out of any sort of malicious intent, but that’s not how he took your tone. After all, he was a cynical man.

“As if.”

After that he was a bit bitter towards you. Then he was a little mean. And then he was just plain cruel. He was an asshole. He was a bully.

Since his interest being pointed out to you, you occasionally glanced over at him to see if he really was staring. But he either acted like you didn’t exist, or whenever his gaze did meet yours the corners of his lips turned down and his brow frowned with disgust before looking elsewhere.

When Barb went missing, you and Nancy were temporarily joined at the hip in your efforts to figure out what happened. Then one day Nancy went cold on you. Started making excuses and hardly speaking to you otherwise. You didn’t understand, finding yourself completely alone as you scattered “Missing Person” posters all over Hawkins.

You had no idea what happened with Barb at the time and still had no clue what happened with your friendship with Nance to this very day. Maybe the loss was too much. Maybe Nancy couldn’t handle the reminder of your perfect trio. She was always closer to Barb than you. Maybe Barb missing and then turning up dead made it too difficult for her to face you. Maybe she was all caught up in two guys being completely obsessed with her, which admittedly made you a little jealous.

Soon enough you seemed to be completely off one another’s radars. It made high school even lonelier for you. You eventually found some new friends in other corners of the “Smart Kids” lunch table, but it was never like it was with Nancy and Barb.

So by the time he started getting a little mean, there wasn’t really anyone to protect you. Your new friends were skittish around the metalhead. Nance and Barb would’ve stood up for you once, but that support system was obliterated back in ‘83.

So when he shoved past you in the halls later in your sophomore year, no one gave it any thought. When he was pulling your hair in your Junior year then acting all innocent when you turned around to confront him, still no one cared. Now in your Senior year—and him in his third—whenever you thought he couldn’t be worse, he proved you wrong and did so with a devilish grin.

He pulled your hair. He tripped you. He stood behind you in line at lunch and would flip up the back of your skirt. He smacked your books out of your hands. He openly mocked you while leaning back in his chair at lunch with that smug look on his face. He mimicked your contributions in class under his breath, knowing you’d hear him and trip over your words. He snuck filthy messages into your locker that made your face burn with embarrassment and disgust—disgust for him and for the way his perverted words made your thighs press together. He would speed up whenever you were walking or biking home just to scare the shit out of you. He would take any opportunity to shove you or throw things at you or press his body up against yours in a derisive and vulgar manner—especially in gym class. He would “playfully” hump you from behind and nearly knock you over whenever you bent over and there was no teacher paying attention. Or spank you. Or pinch your ass.

He was horrible. Disgusting. Obnoxious. Crude. Vile. He made you go home with tears in your eyes most days, but the worst part was how much you liked the attention. You hated yourself for it. You wished you were running to the nearest adult to tell them every last thing he did to you. You wished you were standing up to him and calling him a disgusting pig in front of everyone which surely would’ve pulled out some “Ooo”s and maybe even some of the Seniors that hated him would’ve joined in. Maybe even had your back, even if it was temporary.

But you didn’t because by now when he pulled your hair, you had to refrain from whimpering or moaning. When he tripped you, you thought of the things he could do to you now you were already on your hands and knees. When he flipped up your skirt you always gasped and shoved him away, secretly hoping he’d do it again—even starting to wear only your cutest pairs of panties to school. When he smacked your books out of your hands, you actually liked that it was him causing you to bend over or get on your knees to collect your things again. When he decided to mock you from over at his spot at lunch, you got butterflies from the way he said your name and the way his dimples sunk into his cheeks. When he mimicked you in class, you tripped over your words because his voice and tangible presence got you all flustered and hot. When you got to your locker, you secretly hoped to see the torn off corner of some notebook page flutter onto the floor with the most obscene words. When he sped up to scare you, you thought about screaming something so bold at him that he would screech to a halt and reverse before telling you to get in his van, now.

You liked when he threw things at you like balled up paper to your cheek in class or a basketball to your side in gym. You liked when he shoved you or pressed against you because in his attempts to intimidate you with his touch and his proximity, it made your knees weak. You liked how he pinched your ass or gave it a little smack when you bent over and your teacher wasn’t looking. And you loved when he would thrust up against you whenever you were bent over and there was no teacher around at all, because his bulge pressed up against you (even while he was laughing devilishly) made you ache.

He was so utterly horrible to you, and yet when you found yourself grinding on your hand at night on top of your pink, white and yellow quilt—you were thinking about him and how mean he was. You were thinking about how mean he would be as he fucked you. Taunting you and teasing you and mocking you. You spasmed around your fingers and choked down your cries at the thought of him bullying your cunt.

It was all a fantasy, though. He never interacted with you longer than a few seconds, and was always with him in control. If you walked up to him and told him you wanted him to fuck you like the bully he was, he probably would’ve died laughing right before your eyes and told everyone he knew about your embarrassing lust for the guy who made your life a living hell. But now you were being cornered into spending time with him, and being faced with a real-life scenario where you were together made your palms sweat.

“I know he’s a difficult young man, but if you tutor him I’ll figure something out with the principal. Some sort of extra credit maybe.”

“There’s no one else that could tutor him?” You choked out, nerves on edge. Ms. O’Donnell gave you a sympathetic smile and shook her head.

“All busy.”

Busy, my ass you wanted to huff out. They were probably all avoiding him like the plague. O’Donnell was desperate to get his grade up and get him out of the damn school, which you didn’t blame her for, but god… why you?

“Okay…” You relented, a sad twitch for a smile when she sighed in relief and thanked you incessantly.

“I’ve already spoken to him about needing a tutor, I’ll let him know the good news, okay?”

You nodded with a meek “okay,” and tried to go on with the rest of your day as if you weren’t wracked with fear, excitement, concern over your excitement. You were on edge all day, and nearly jumped out of you seat when you were called to the office over the speakers about 5 minutes to the end of your last class. You swallowed anxiously, collecting your things and trying to ignore the “ooo”s over you being summoned to the principal’s office—assuming you were in trouble.

You trudged towards your destination, pausing when you spotted him slack in one of the chairs by the front desk that he frequented more than anyone else. You considered running in the opposite direction and making up some lie to Ms. O’Donnell the next day, but then Mrs. White beamed at you after happening to glance away from her clunky typewriter.

“Miss Y/L/N! Come on in, dear.” She spoke cheerfully in a way that went through you sideways. Eddie’s eyes shot up to you, smirking around the fingernail he was chewing at and clearly considering spitting it at you if Mrs. White hadn’t been paying attention. You toyed with the ends of your sleeves anxiously, listening to Mrs. White discuss the details Ms. O’Donnell had ready. What topics to go over (which was just about everything). How many times per week she wanted you to tutor him (at least once/week). The only thing left out was when and where.

“Oh that’s up to you two, hon.” She chirped. “Just compare your schedules.”

“It’s not in school? With a teacher around?” You questioned anxiously, but she was oblivious to your worries.

“Nope, no need for supervision. We like to give the tutors space from the teachers while they work with others, we find that the students that need help take to that better.”

“Sure do.” Eddie spoke up, and you nearly flinched at how close he sounded. You glanced over and he must’ve just gotten out of the hard plastic chair cause he was slightly leaned back to give his body a stretch causing his chest to puff out a little, his hands moving to rest by his hips as he tugged his jeans up.

“What? Scared of me ‘r somethin’?” He whispered playfully, a hand moving up to rest over his heart as he feigned offense before his act melted away to show his usual smirk. He winked at you, and you swallowed nervously as you looked back at Mrs. White again who was blissfully unaware of his malevolence.

“So here you go… those worksheets and… a time sheet.” The woman grinned as she placed the last paper on top before sliding everything over. “You just have to add the dates that you study together, and you both have to sign each time. Ms. O’Donnell said writing a quick synopsis of what you went over would be nice too, but not necessary. The most important thing is seeing a difference in Mr. Munson’s grades.”

“Sounds good to me, Pam.” Eddie smiled at Mrs. White whose sunny demeanor sunk into a more serious expression while you put the papers away neatly in one of your folders.

“What have we talked about, Mr. Munson? Use my first name again and you’ll find your butt in detention this Saturday for such disrespect. Again.”

He puts his hands up as if apologizing for his actions, but he was still grinning ear to ear. Mrs. White eyed him with a tight lipped scowl, then looked at you.

“Good luck.”

You were gonna need it.

The ride to your house in his rusty van was surprisingly quiet beyond his music. You were on edge which he enjoyed like always, but he was clearly saving the torment for when he was inside your home. You wished your parents were home, even if they were tucked away in another room, but they were both gone for the weekend to attend your Aunt’s wedding. Not that you’d let him know that.

“We’ll be studying in the dining room. And no funny business. My dad’s in his office and he doesn’t like being disturbed while he’s working.” You lied seamlessly, making your way over to the dining table, Eddie lazily sauntering along.

“Oo does daddy have a temper?” He teased in a whisper. “Gonna come out and spank you if you bother him too much?”

He gave you a mocking pout and your face scrunched up with irritation.

“Just sit so we can get this over with.”

“I’m sorry are you under the false impression that you’re in charge here, doll face?” He questioned, keeping his anger mostly disguised by his inquisitive tone.

“Well, I’m the tutor so-“ You scoff out, avoiding looking at him as you pulled all of your study materials from your bag.

“Yeah and that means something to me because…?” He drew out his last word as he spun on his heels and casually walked away.

“I- what-“ You sputtered. “What are you doing?”

“You know it’s awfully rude to have a guest and not give them a tour of the place.” He spoke casually, grabbing the ends of picture frames hanging on the walls to get a better look at them before letting them drop back again. You were hot on his heels, fixing every frame he left crooked. He paused at a picture of you from camp in a bikini with some of the friends you made that summer, smug and sucking at his teeth a little as he eyed the image of you.

“Real cute…still got it?” He looked over at you, his hair shifting over his shoulder as he eyed you. “Wanna model it for me? Make all this worth my while?”

Your cheeks were starting to turn pink.

“We have to study.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, and looks over to spot the staircase behind him. He slunk around the corner and made his way up the carpeted steps.

“Hey- hey! You’re not allowed up there!” You shout after him, rushing to follow after him. He was already on the second floor when he turned and shushed you.

“Don’t wanna make daddy angry, right? He’s hard at work if I’m remembering correctly.” He whispered with a joking concern for your father’s focus who wasn’t even here, and you worried he knew that. He continued on along the hallway and you stayed behind him, wishing there was something you could do to get him to stop. He opened doors along the way, inspecting the interior with a mild curiosity. The upstairs bathroom. Your parent’s room. The spare bedroom. Then-

“Ah, here we are.” Your bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Please get out of my room.” You pleaded, but he continued on his quest. He looked at the makeup on your vanity, toppling some of the products over like a careless cat before moving on. He toyed with any photos in your room, sniffed at the perfume bottles on your dresser.

“Eddie-“ You started, clenching your jaw as he found the perfume you wore the most often and sprayed some of it on the crotch of his jeans. Then he just kept a hold on it as he waltzed around your room, spraying it several times just to waste your favorite product.

“That’s rude.” You spoke up, your lips pouting slightly. He snickered at your comment, how you sounded like a wronged child.

“Aw well if you need to touch up your perfume at all, you know where to get it.” He grinned, pointing to his groin before continuing to go through your things. The concept was strange but still made you clench simply from the thought of having to rub at his bulge to get something you wanted. He didn’t waste that much of your fragrance, but the idea was still burning in your mind.

He muttered disapproving comments at the posters on your walls and the cassettes he rummaged through until he got bored. You were nervous about interfering even as he invaded your privacy, until he was opening your top drawer to go through your panties and bras.

“Hey! That’s too far!” You gasp, rushing over to slam the drawer closed again. He shoved you back and opened it again.

“Quit being so fucking uptight.”

“Quit going through things that don’t belong to you!” You talked back which was still surprising him every time you did, but certainly didn’t let it show.

“Yeah well quit pissing me off before I put you in your fucking place.” He seethes, giving you an angry warning look that felt like fire all over you. You wanted to cry, to tell him to stop being so mean to you, but it would be useless. You’d just end up feeling pathetic as he laughed over your misery. You just had to stand there and watch as he kept going through your underwear drawer.

“Ooh, cute. I don’t think I’ve seen these yet.” He clicked his tongue and blew out an impressed breath as he held up a black lacy number. “‘d love to leave some stains on these for you, doll face.”

“You’re disgusting.” You blurt out, but the thought of his cum spurting onto your new pair of panties made you feel warm. He smirked at your frustration, tucking the underwear into his pocket.

“Those are new!”

He shrugs, shoving the drawer closed again with enough careless force to knock over a picture frame perched on top. He doesn’t seem to care until he’s spinning around with his finger pointed at you and that wicked look on his face.

“You know what, though? You bring up a great point.” He tugs the lace from his pocket and holds it up to his nose before letting out a disappointed sigh. “Now that’s a problem. Still smell like whatever cutesy store you got ‘em from.”

You have a moment of hope that he’s trying to be nice and provide an opportunity to give them back to you, even if he’s going about it in a dirty way. But that doesn’t last long, even when he’s tossing them back to you.

“Why don’t you put ‘m on for me, huh? Then when you give ‘em to me on my way out I’ll have proof of how fucking wet I get you.” He spoke so smoothly as he got closer to you, that it almost blanketed the filth of his words as something soft or even sweet.

“As if.” You scoff out in a huff, and there’s a fury to his gaze that you don’t understand.

“Yeah… as if.” He murmurs darkly, getting closer to you. You swallow nervously and take a step back. “Cause fuck me, right? I’m just some good-for-nothing asshole who you wouldn’t give the time of day. Not a priss like you.”

“I-I’m not a-“

“Oh dad!” He’s suddenly shouting at the top of his lungs in a sing-song manner, his body whipped around to face your doorway, and your eyes go wide.

“Stop-“

“Hey! I just wanna meet Mr. Y/L/N! Spending time with your lovely daughter!” He spoke with a passionate respect that you knew was coming from a hateful place. He had gone to your doorframe and was listening for any kind of response. A verbal acknowledgement. The sound of steps or creaking floorboards to tell him there was actually going to be someone to confront him.

His grin became devious as he went to the steps again. “Hello?” He calls, dragging out that last vowel.

“Will you quit it!” You hiss, tears prickling at your eyes now at the thought of him realizing you were all alone. Just you and him. And that you had lied to him.

He was turning around, sure now that the only people in this house were you and him. His dimples were pushing into his cheeks again as he sucked at his teeth, approaching you at the doorway to your bedroom like a cocky killer. The kind that you saw in horror movies that knew they had their prey cornered and could have some fun with it.

Out of nerves and a need to keep a barrier between the two of you, you took a quick step back and went to slam your door shut so you could lock it, but he got there in time to stop in with an outstretched arm. He pushed it open so harshly that you were sure there would be a dent in your wall where the doorknob was forced into it.

God, you couldn’t stand the way he looked right now. So proud. So smug. That shit-eating grin that told you he knew he was winning. That fury from before still lingering. He noticed the gloss to your eyes and tuts as a mocking pout reaches his lips.

“Upset about somethin’, doll? Someone got you all worked up?”

You huff out your nose, your lips screwed into a frown and your eyes still stinging with unshed tears.

“You’re so… so… mean! I hate you!” You shout, and without even realizing it you had stomped your foot at your last statement. It makes him pause, his expression unreadable for a moment as he considers everything until it all lands on amusement. He crosses his arms over his chest, grin wild and his hair flowing with him as he tilts his head with intrigue.

“Did you just stomp your foot at me, princess?” He teases, and your face feels so hot you wonder if he can see the flush of pink even through your foundation. He can. You refuse to answer him, fighting back the urge to fully cry in front of him. He’s getting closer though until he’s brushing up against you and looking down at you. God, he’s so warm.

“Aw… such a sensitive girl. Look at you.” He murmurs as he continues backing you two up until you’re pressed against the wall, one of those posters he disapproved of crinkling against your hair. He’s making fun of you like always but there’s a softness around the edges of his words. Blurred by a desire to do just about anything to you. He reaches his hand up to drag the pad of his thumb over your pouty lower lip before bringing his hand down to grasp you by your chin.

“Bet your pussy’s just as responsive as the rest of ya, huh?” He whispers as he makes you look up at him. Your nostrils flare momentarily and you keep looking up at him but you still won’t speak and you still won’t let those tears fall.

“I bet your cunt is just as weepy. All hot and wet when I’m fucking you into shape.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to refrain from whimpering or letting your lips part for a soft sigh. Anything that would confirm how badly you want him to figure out just how right he is. But then his anger flares back up as he’s gripping your jaw now, squeezing just enough to make it uncomfortable.

“Speak when you’re spoken to.” He demands in a low voice with a sort of growl to it that makes your knees weak. You part your lips as you consider answering him like you’re told, and he raises his brows while waiting. Then, in a brazen defiance, you spit in his face instead.

He’s so solid it’s almost like he doesn’t care. Not a flinch or a crack in his demeanor. Then he’s moving his hand from your jaw to your throat and gripping onto it enough that you gasp.

“I’ve been spat on my whole fucking life, you think that’s gonna make a difference here, princess? Think that’s gonna make me respect you? Think you’re brave?”

Your hands reach up to rest over his on your neck, a mewl vibrating from the back of your throat. He leans in closer to your face, your lips parting wider as he tightens his grip.

“It just makes me think you’re stupid.” He finishes before spitting directly into your open mouth. He’s releasing you from his grip right after, wiping your saliva from his cheek while you catch your breath. A soft moan escapes you before you can keep it at bay and his inflated ego is tangible. He’s eyeing you with a sort of amazed intrigue that pulls him back to you, his arms lifting to place his hands on the wall on either side of your head.

“You like it, don’t you?” He laughs and you shake your head furiously, but he isn’t buying it. “You could’ve gotten my ass suspended—hell, even expelled—ages ago. And yet…?”

“I just felt bad that you’re such a fucking idiot.“

“Dirty girl.” He hisses inward through his teeth as if burned by your words, but you were just egging him on.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” He wondered in a soft tone, hand back to your jaw as you stayed quiet. “Will you kiss daddy with that mouth?” He added with a lazy grin, exuding dominance and arrogance.

You became a little slack jawed at the implication, and he was on you. Hand still on your jaw, he pressed his lips to yours. You feigned protest at first with a few kicks and smacks, but then he had your wrists pinned against the wall and you sunk into the kiss. He kept you pinned for a few moments, until he was sure you were relaxed. He dropped his hands down to completely engulf your waist in his arms, and keep you pressed against him. The kiss was filthy with anger-fueled lust and slips of moans on your end and grunts from his.

“I hate you.” You whispered in between kisses, his hands moving to grip your ass now.

“Yeah you do.” He chuckled proudly against your lips before beginning to trail his lips down your jaw to your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed, hands settled on his muscular back as he sucked and bit at your neck, messy hair tickling you. More sounds slipped from you with no attempt to hold them back, a teary whimper hanging on your lips after he bit down on your neck hard enough to pull a yelp from you.

“Gonna mark you all up…” He muttered against your skin, making your head swirl.

“Gonna have you walking into school and have everyone know who you belong to.” He pulled back now, breathless and his full lips all pink with attention. His eyes were dark with lust, and it all made you whimper. The sound made him laugh in disbelief.

“Yeah? Such a slut. Bet you can’t wait to walk in with my hickeys all over you. Might even fuck you in the back of my van beforehand. Make you go to class full of my cum.”

You almost can’t believe him or yourself as you nod your head dumbly with a desperate pout. He groans at the sight and pulls you to him again, his lips back on yours as his hands reach down to hook under your thighs and lift you up. You’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, a soft cry escaping when he starts grinding against you. He’s so hard and feels so pressed into his jeans, you’re both afraid and alight at the thought of just how big he probably is.

Eddie made his way over towards your bed until his legs made contact with your bed frame. He pulled away from the kiss to drop you on the bed carelessly. You lifted your torso up by digging your elbows back into your mattress, legs bent up at the knee and parted for him while you watched him undo his belt. He noticed you staring, and his gaze traveled along your form. Your knit sweater. Your pleated skirt.

“Take that shit off.” He said with a slight jut of his chin in the direction of your top, hands paused at the waist of his jeans and boxers. You hesitated at first, mostly at his hesitation to pull down his bottoms, but also out of nerves that your body wouldn’t be good enough. He made fun of you for just about everything. Surely he would tease you for that too.

“Did I fucking stutter?” His voice rose just a touch, his expression showing his impatience. At that your eyes went a bit wide again, and you lifted your sweater over your head and then the t-shirt you had on underneath. His hand was under his undone jeans, palming himself through his boxers as he looked over your naked torso.

“Bra too.” He murmured, and your nerves subsided from the way he looked at you. It was all hunger and lust and some impatience, but that was common. But no mockery. He wasn’t gearing up to make fun of your body cause he’s been waiting to see it. It was even better than he imagined, and he stopped a groan in his throat when you unclasped your bra and put it off to the side.

“Fuck…” He sighed out, squeezing his hard cock in his fist. You arched your back, which he initially enjoyed, until he realized your hand was moving to unzip the back of your skirt.

“Hey.” His harsh tone broke through, his free hand slapping your thigh. “Did I say take the skirt off?”

Your lips parted, and he jerked his head forward with a wide, frustrated gaze. It was as if he was saying “Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

He rolled his eyes as you shook your head no, and moved your hands away. He muttered under his breath and settled himself between your legs before deciding you weren’t close enough. His hands grasped your thighs to pull you closer, a surprised giggle bubbling in your chest from the action. He didn’t acknowledge it because he was trying to not let it show that it made him want to smirk. Just like when you get all teary-eyed. Or stomp your feet. Or finally get enough nerve to talk back. Even getting a giggle out of you made him smug, despite the fact that he had only ever seemed to enjoy making you miserable.

Eddie flips your skirt up onto your stomach, licking his lips at the sight of the light blue cotton panties he had already seen in the lunch line today. He finally tugged his jeans and boxers down below his balls, and started pumping his dick in his hand. Your nerves lit up at the sight of it—thick and with a bit of a curve to it. You wanted to see more of him, but the likelihood of that was slim to none. He enjoyed the control he had in this relationship, and that meant he liked having you almost completely naked in front of him while he was practically still dressed. He smirked as pre-cum beaded up on his tip and let it drip onto the fabric of your underwear. He dipped down to drag his tip along your covered slit to make a mess of your panties with his pre-cum. You inhaled sharply at the feeling, biting the inside of your lip whenever he nudged your clit.

“I like these panties…” You complained, knowing how much better it would be for him to ruin a pair of underwear you love.

“Aw…” He tutted, leaning over you as he mimicked the pout on your lips. “Don’t tell me that cause then I might have to cum all over them. ‘N I thought you wanted it inside.”

You mewled again, nodding your head which he mimicked too. The little shake of your head, the sound you made.

“Such a whiny, needy girl.” He said as if he cared. He hooked a finger under your panties and tugged at them, fighting the fabric over your legs one handed before holding them up to his nose. His eyes were trained on the sight of your sopping pussy as he breathed in, his cock twitching in his fist. He cursed under his breath, only pulling the fisted cloth away to stuff into his back pocket. His now free hand moved forward to drag his fingers through your slit, proud to feel how soaked and puffy you were already.

“You a virgin, doll?” He purred, tilting his head with a sickeningly sweet grin, the curled corners of his lips devilish. It was saccharine and mean. He figured you’d say yes because no one at school seemed to want you, but then you shook your head.

You lost your virginity at that summer camp you were at in the picture he was ogling earlier. It was awkward and felt strange, and you didn’t have much experience beyond that, but you weren’t a virgin. You thought he’d like you better this way anyways, already ready for him to fuck, but it ticked him off.

“No?” He asked, pushing two thick fingers into your cunt and making you gasp. The pressure on that sweet spot right at your entrance was buzzing with pleasure, but it still ached a little. “Guess you’re the little slut I always thought you were, hm?”

He was pushing his fingers in deep and curling them up into that spongy spot that made you whine and your thighs tremble.

“Who is he?” Eddie urged, his expression back to the irritation you were familiar with. You weren’t answering, all of your focus on his thick fingers and the rings that adorned them pinching the edge of your entrance.

“Who. Is. He?” He repeated, moving his face a bit closer to yours in bursts with every word, his head tilting to the left then to the right then back to the left to punctuate his words. He was slowing it down for you like you were dumb, and his fingers stopped moving—all of this making you huff.

“No one-“ You whine hopelessly, and he was starting to pull his hand away but you shot yours out to grip his wrist and keep his fingers deep between your legs. “No one, no one important.” You continued. “It was at summer camp, he’s not even from here. Please-“ you nearly sobbed, and it was enough to make the man groan as he leaned over you.

“Oh… please what, doll face?” He murmured, hand that had just been wrapped around his dick sinking the mattress down beside your head.

“Please- please don’t stop.” You whimper softly and he smiles sweetly down at you while pulling his hand away anyways. It was just for a second, enough to make you want to cry, but then he was plunging them back into your fluttering hole again. He added a third finger, barely giving you even enough time to enjoy the first two, the stretch making your lips part a little.

“God, you’re desperate.” He snorted, his hand angling a bit differently to let his thumb catch your clit. He watched with pride as your head tilted back and your back arched. Your thighs kept twitching and your walls were clamping down around his fingers more and more—he could tell you were close.

“Eddie…” You drawled, breath catching as your body braced itself for the mind-altering pleasure of your orgasm, but just as you approached the top—he pulled his hand away. You let out a distressed cry that made him laugh. He cooed at you, his hand that had been pumping his cock moving to rest on your cheek. Knowing where it had been made it even better, made it filthier. It made you wonder how many times he had just touched his dick before touching you.

“That’s for letting some random loser fuck you.” He whispered after leaning down so close that his nose was occasionally brushing against yours.

“‘m sorry…” You whine, tears of pleasure and pain having already slid down from your eyes and back towards your ears—leaving your hair damp and cold.

“You’re sorry, what?” He urged, nudging his tip against your folds.

“I’m sorry I let someone else take my virginity.” You were a blubbering mess, teary-eyed and needy.

“You’re gonna make up for it, though, right?” He purred, his tip already pressing into you and you nodded enthusiastically with a cry, your hips twitching forward.

“That’s my girl.”

Your lips parted, your lower lip quivering when he pushed into you until his hips were flush with your ass. You let out a sort of choked whimper and he groaned.

“Fuck you’re tight…” He sighed with content, sliding back before sinking back in until his tip was kissing your cervix. “Not even a virgin and I’m still gonna have to work to split this cunt open, huh?”

He was grinning again over that, over the grip your walls had on him from such a foreign stretch. It ached in the best way possible except for the occasional thrust that pinched and made you yelp out a small “ow.”

“S-so big… you’re so big…” You babble, your mind fuzzy. Your pupils were all blown out and you watched him fuck into you like it was the best dream you ever had. You eventually tilt your head back, letting out a happy hum as your hips push outward to feel him as deeply and as harshly as possible. He mimicked the sounds you made and the expressions you made from his thick cock hitting all the right places and stretching you enough that you knew you were going to be sore. All day tomorrow you were going to get brief pangs of aching that would remind you of how full you were of Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He was all you could focus on, and you didn’t even realize you had been whimpering his name over and over under your breath until he made fun of you for it.

“Fuck you.” You huffed defensively, only for his amusement to bolster.

“Ha!” He cackled right in your face as you looked up at him with glossy eyes, pink cheeks and pouty lips. “Already are, sweetheart.”

Soon enough your sounds annoyed him though, especially the more demanding they got. Harder. Faster. Slower. More. Please. So he flipped you over onto your stomach and had his hand on your head to press your cheek into the mattress as he mounted you again—all with a casual “God, just shut up.”

At this new angle he was driving into you with a force that reverberated throughout your whole body every time he slammed into your cervix or that gushy part of you. You felt dizzy and breathless, every stroke of his cock against your ridged walls shooting off sparks. After being so close just from his hand to now, you were steadily approaching an orgasm again—just praying he’d let you keep it this time. He must’ve noticed because his free hand was reaching down to rub your clit. Your eyelids fluttered, a sob being muffled by the comforter you were biting down on. The sound of skin smacking, the tired springs of your bed squeaking, Eddie’s panting and grunting, the chain of his wallet clinking every now and then, the wet and pornographic sound of his cock plunging in and out of your pussy—it all seemed so loud for a second and then felt muffled the next as you came undone around him. You moaned out his name, whimpering cries on the tail end. You could feel your walls fluttering around him, clamping down and then blossoming back open then clamping down again in a mind-swirling rhythm.

“That’s a good girl…” He purred in a way that might’ve been too sweet from him if it wasn’t laced with a condescending tone. “Gonna cum in you, ‘kay?”

“Uh-huh-“ You moan, body aching as he picks up the pace again, fingers tangled in your hair with a painful grip. You can’t see him, but his head is tilted back completely blissed out as he fucks into you. You felt amazing, even better than he imagined which was pretty damn astonishing considering the pedestal he already had your pussy on in his imagination. He was so close, and a brief thought of getting you pregnant nearly sent him over the edge. He was mean. So fucking mean. That was the most devious thing he could do. Fill you up and make you all round with his kid.

“Shit-“ He pants out. “Gonna fill you up, babe.”

“Please-“ You beg, pulling an incredulous chuckle from him.

“Such a good girl… always take everything I give her.” He breathes out, leaning down to trap your body between him and your bed, his hand moving your hair away from your face. “Takes everything I give her at school, and she’s gonna take everything I give her in her bed, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, please-“ You sob, gasping out with the next few sharp thrusts against you until there was this warm feeling blooming inside you as he groaned against your back. He gave a few more thrusts after cumming inside, letting out happy puffs of air. You remembered how content that guy was when he unloaded into his condom inside you in camp. That blissful look on his face before he pecked your lips then lied next to you. Eddie didn’t bother with a condom, didn’t press a little peck to your lips and he wasn’t so quick to pull out either. When you squirmed a little he shifted so he was pushed up deeper into you, pulling a gasp from you which made him smirk against your skin.

Eventually he leaned up to bite your shoulder and then he slid out of you. You were still a little out of it, purring out a whiny hum as you nuzzled your quilt. Your legs were still spread and slightly bent up while you laid there on your stomach, and as he adjusted his softening dick back into his boxers he saw his cum slowly started to seep out of you and onto your comforter. Ever the gentleman, once his pants were zipped back up and his belt was buckled he landed his palm on your ass cheek and turned you over as you huffed over the action.

“See you Monday.”

“But we… we have to…” You fought to find your words through the haze. Study. You had to study.

“Bye, doll face!” He called out as he made his way downstairs.

You pouted a little, wanting to beg him to come back and stay with you. Maybe even go another round, but you were so spent that you just laid there.

When you got your energy back enough to force you to get up, you went to pee and clean yourself up before heading downstairs. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you made your way over to your backpack and you spotted the writing on the time sheet. A smile tugged at your lips. Instead of the date he wrote his phone number, and for the synopsis of today’s tutoring session he wrote “sex ed” with a winky face, and then signed where he was supposed to.

God, you were so fucked. And you were going to need a new time sheet.

#eddie munson smut #mean!eddie munson #bully!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things smut

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elsweetheart · 1 year

Text

what you heard : part one

synopsis: you start to develop feelings for your boyfriends dealer.

♪ what you heard — sonder ♪

cw: reader is a bisexual woman dating a man, brief descriptions of having sex with a man, weed, alcohol, ellie’s sexual thoughts, blink and you miss it mention of throwing up, a man being really mean and a bad boyfriend, gay girl drama, ellie is kind of a homewrecker but reader doesn’t technically cheat, but mentions of it. kind of angsty at times? a little?

an: whew this is kinda lengthy !! idk how many words so… don’t ask me :( i hope you all enjoy it! i’ll start writing part two asap!

Ellie didn’t hate any of her customers, no. That would be bad for business. She just simply… preferred some over the others. Louis was one of those customers that she wouldn’t exactly reserve her best weed for. Not originally, at least. He was like a lot of the other guys on campus, average. Brown hair with the same old outfits, love of sports, and friend group. She could find one hundred of him. She kept a pretty exclusive clients list, not wanting to overwhelm herself with business whilst she’s really trying this year to stay on top of her studies. He wasn’t the most polite, and he was always showing up without texting first — but he paid, and that was good enough to keep him on as a customer.

Alright, maybe that wasn’t really the reason Ellie kept him on as a customer.

She always liked to check out the social media accounts of the people she sold to, try and figure out what kind of person they were, who they knew, and if they seemed like the type to give her up if a cop came knocking. Also, simply put — the girl was nosy. Don’t let her nonchalant demeanour fool you, her Insta-stalking skills rivalled the FBI. She knew she probably shouldn’t, and she did feel a little weird doing it — scrolling on her bed one evening in a hoodie and basketball shorts, she typed in Louis’ name to the Instagram search bar.

He had one picture up of you, the rest were pictures of him and his friends at parties. Real classy, she thought. She clicked the picture, wondering what kind of girl would have to be desperate enough to go out with a guy this… meh, and oh… Oh. You were smoking hot. It was a halloween throwback, a basic couple costume with Louis dressed as the devil and you, ironically enough dressed as an angel. He kept his sweaty pink hand on the curve of your ass as the two of you laughed. She wondered what was funny. He got lucky, she thought. Very lucky.

Ellie tapped you, and a tag emerged on the screen with your name. Pretty name, of course. Private account — much to her disappointment.

It would be totally inappropriate to follow you, right? Her customers girlfriend. Ellie clicked her own profile, gazing at it thoughtfully. Her profile picture was a black screen, and she had zero pictures up on her account. She had a considerable amount of followers, given her reputation but she didn’t follow many back — just a few very loyal customers, and her best friends Jesse and Dina. It would be weird to follow you right? Yes. Very weird, Ellie. She closed out the app, and pretty much forgot about it.

It was always the same exchange with Louis. He turned up, either unannounced or 2 hours late — burp, demand weed whilst barely sparing Ellie a glance or a thank you, and then head out. She didn’t always mind — not being a huge fan of small talk anyway, though she could do without the burp. He’d had texted earlier in the day, asking — no, telling Ellie that he would be passing by to pick up his usual ‘at some point’. A quiet knock rapt at the door around 02:23PM. Ellie swung the door open, coming face to face with you.

“Hi… Ellie?” You smiled. Hopeful, sweet, even prettier in person. You were wearing a little sundress with the cheap thin material that hugged every curve on your body, and if she stared a little longer like she wanted to she’d start to border on creepy. Ellie cleared her throat, fighting out a greeting and praying it would come out relatively normal.

“Yeah.” Was what she landed on. Whatever, play it cool. Pretend you didn’t try and stalk her Instagram.

“Louis isn’t coming, the weed is for me and he told me where to buy from, so… hi.” You grinned before telling her your name like she didn’t already know it.

“Hey. I’m Ellie.” And with that, she stepped aside and let you in.

It was like you brought the sunshine in from outside with you, because as soon as you stepped into her room Ellie felt too warm in her grey hoodie. She pushed the sleeves up as your eyes flickered around her dorm, realised she felt stupid and pushed them back down.

“How much you want?” She was pulling out the metal box from her drawer, glancing up at you as your brows furrowed unsurely — thinking as you tugged at your glossed lip. Ellie tried not to stare.

“Uh—” You breathed, and it relaxed Ellie slightly to see that you seemed more nervous than she did somewhat— just for a different reason. “Louis told me to just ask for what he usually gets? I’m sorry, I’ve never bought my own weed before.” You cringed, and then cringed again at the word choice. Ellie smiled fade into a soft chuckle with a nod that said ‘I bet you haven’t.’ She should have guessed, when did pretty girls ever buy their own weed?

“You’re good. I know what his usual is.” Ellie reassured, digging around in the nuggets. She pulled a couple out, placing them down on her scale before bagging them up. You held out your hand unsurely, and she pressed the plastic baggie into it. Your mouth opened to say something, and Ellie’s hand froze above yours as she watched you — trying to work out what might be wrong. “What? Is this not…”

“No, sorry. It’s perfect. I assume. I’m not sure. I just… I don’t know how to roll these. Lou told me to buy my own weed seeing as I am the one who wanted to smoke and — it’s okay. I’ll just Google it.” You shook your head, feeling your cheeks turn warm at your own rambling. Ellie stopped you as you went to shove the baggie into her pocket with a calm smile, raising her eyebrows as if to say ‘Hey, it’s okay. Chill.’

“I can roll it for you. It’s no biggie.”

You visibly relaxed, and Ellie could tell because of the way your chest collapsed slightly, not suffocating your tits against the material of your dress anymore which she couldn’t help but glance at as you looked away. “Thanks. Sorry.” You guffawed, your embarrassment seeming a little relieved as you stepped back, leaning against her desk as she pulled her chair and tray out to do the rolling.

“Louis not buying your weed for you?” She conversed, eyes on the rolling paper as she carefully packed it. Your head snapped towards her, realising that you were the one who blabbed that. Her eyes glanced up at you briefly when you didn’t immediately answer.

“No. It’s… okay though.” You justified, a mass of shame swirling just below your rib cage. You didn’t wanna talk shit about your boyfriend to a stranger, even if the stranger had a totally welcoming vibe about her — and your boyfriend was cheap. Ellie tsk’d lightheartedly, shaking her head. “Against the rules, man.” She comment quietly.

“What rules?” You furrowed your brows defensively as she continued packing.

“You don’t let your girl buy her own weed?” She repeat obviously. Something about the way she said it made the embarrassment in your stomach dissipate into butterflies, which widened your eyes slightly at the disloyal feeling.

“Oh.”

Silence for a beat or two as Ellie concentrate. You notice the lesbian flag on her pinboard.

“It’ll probably just be me and my friends that smoke it anyway. The weathers nice so we’ll be at one of those frat pool parties… You don’t go to those?” You tilt your head, and her eyes lingered on you as you did so at the sugary sweetness in your gesture. God, you made her teeth hurt.

“Nah. I hear those things get weird and horny. Straight people… no offence.” She glances towards you once more, the ‘no offence’ holding little to no weight. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to give a shit about offence, anyways.

“I’m bisexual, but I understand.” You giggle, pushing yourself back to sit more on her desk, swinging your legs as you watch her roll. Her fingers froze for just a moment, before she continued rolling.

“Oh yeah?” She conversed, absolutely despising how a flame of hope flickered in her chest. Nope. Not doing this again.

“Yeah, actually I…” You chuckled. “I started college with the hopes of finding a girlfriend. Things just… didn’t end up that way I guess.” You shrugged, and you seemed happy enough but Ellie could sense the disappointment buried deep.

“Huh.” Ellie let out as she licked the rolling paper, firmly closing it up. She kind of hoped you were watching her as she did so. You weren’t. “You know if you squint really hard Louis could be a lesbian.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Nope.” Ellie pushed her chair back, standing. You chuckled and she smirked, pushing the two pre rolls she’d made into a bigger baggie and then presenting them to you. “This gonna be enough?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a total lightweight.” You giggled girlishly and she nodded, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she watched you fish around in your purse, unzipping an inside pocket to stuff the rolls inside.

“Cute.” She let slip with a smile, and your heart fluttered a little. You berated yourself for that silently.

“What extra do I owe you? Do you charge for rolling or… I don’t know how this usually works.” You pulled out your pink zip up wallet, the zip a glittery jewel between your fingers.

“Nah. No extra charge.” She held her hands up and you raised your eyebrows in surprise. That was a lie. She did usually charge extra for that, but one thing about Ellie was that she was a sucker for the pretty girl discount.

“Really?” And out came the doe eyes, your dark heavy eyelashes weighty above your pretty eyes as you looked up at her in awe. It was Ellie’s hearts turn to flutter.

“Really.” She smirked, not breaking eye contact (much to her surprise) as she pinched the cash payment from you between her pointer and middle finger knuckles, only swallowing down the giddiness when your fingers brushed hers. You grinned, zipping your wallet back up and tucking it away, feet tapping on the floor a little like you just couldn’t contain your excitement (Which made Ellie want to squeeze you.)

“I know you said it’s not your thing, but you should come to one of the pool parties. Most of the time the people there are cool. It’ll be good for business.” You wiggled your eyebrows which made Ellie’s smile uncontainable, teeth actually on display now which she honestly never did. No one was ever funny or cute enough.

“Maybe.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, walking you towards her door.

“They happen every weekend. Would be cool to see you there.” You fixed your bag over your shoulder before turning back to her. “Nice to meet you, Ellie. You’ll be seeing more of me.” You nodded formally, and the auburn haired girl tore her eyes away from the visible band of your underwear through the material of the dress when you looked back at her, muttering a “Good.”

Ellie always came away from these kind of things wishing she said more. She knew you had a boyfriend, but something about you seemed more curious. Like you weren’t totally against the idea of flirting back. Maybe it was all in her head because of the stupid crush she’d already developed. She didn’t understand it, how could someone like you feel fulfilled by someone like him. Ellie would never let you pay for your own weed, she’d treat you right. She had the means to be able to spoil you, which she didn’t need proof to know that Louis didn’t. Hell, he couldn’t even pay for his girls weed — Ellie knew stingy when she saw it. He probably wasn’t even making you cum. Not like Ellie could anyway, but then again who could? She’d like to think she had a gift — but maybe it was a guitarist-fingers thing, and years of deftly rolling tight joints.

Ellie shook her head free of the thought — sure she was a little grey-moralled — but thinking about finger fucking one of your customers girlfriends on a sunny afternoon felt a little wrong even for her. She was heading off to meet Dina to exchange notes for a class she missed, again just about willing herself to stay focused this semester. The two of them chat over coffee, the notes barely touched as the two friends joked around. When a pensive silence filled the space between them, Ellie spoke up — picking at a hangnail in a way she hoped was casual.

“You ever been to those campus pool parties? The ones at that douchey frat house?” She shrugged, glancing up at her darker haired friend.

“Uh, yeah. Like once or twice.” Dina frowned before snickering, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “What, you interested? You don’t even enjoy regular parties, hermit.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped slightly in offence, letting out a scoff before taking a sip of her coffee — still scalding hot on her tongue. “Excuse me. I’d be there strictly on business. I heard it’s… I was told I should go.” She explained. Dina’s smirk deepened, eyes lowering into slits.

“Who is she?”

“Why do you assume this is about a girl?” She rolled her jewelled eyes, before glancing around the cafe just incase anyone was listening to her pathetic segue into talking about you.

“Because last time I suggested you come with me and Jesse you nearly threw a textbook at my head.” Dina argued, making Ellie sit back in her seat, looking away in defeat as she crossed her arms over her light grey hoodie.

“She’s got a boyfriend. So it doesn’t matter. Just said it would be good for business and… the customer is always right, so I’ve been told.” Ellie rushed out, Dina’s shoulders dropping with a pitying look.

“Oh Ellie. Why put yourself through that?”

“She’s bi — okay stop. This isn’t about her. I was just asking. Fuckin’… forget it.” Ellie flipped the page of her notes now, going to scribble down what Dina had written to get her mind off the conversation.

“Alright, alright.” Her friends held up her hands. “Defensive.”

Ellie didn’t see Louis much from that point on. Same time, every week — you would be on her doorstep. Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just out of convenience, or maybe you had wanted to see her. You had the same spritely, sunshine attitude each time you stepped into her dorm — lighting it up with your smile and your pretty dresses. The auburn haired dealers heart was beginning to ache in a painfully familiar way. An unrequited crush, a girl she couldn’t have. She wished she could say this was the first time she’d crushed on a girl with a boyfriend — but that would be a lie.

Each time you left, the giddiness would fade out into a prickly, warm and uncomfortable anger settling in at the pit of her stomach. Occasionally, you’d let slip the way Louis treat you — and if you didn’t say it, she could tell by the look on your face when his name would come up. Your classes were stressing you out, hence needing her weed to unwind in the first place, and your boyfriend was doing nothing to ease your anxiety, instead choosing to go out and get wasted with his friends each night. You deserved better, and she knew it wasn’t her place to say but shit, it was killing her. You were killing her. She could treat you better.

From outside the frat house, she could hear music, laughter, and water splashing from down the street. Ellie stood with Dina and Jesse, already regretting her decision.

“Fuck this. I’m turning around.” Ellie attempted to swivel, but Jesse grabbed her arm.

“No you’re not. You’re here to sell, remember? Got a friend with money, said he’d pay you good.” He gave her a light shove towards the door, Dina rolling her eyes at the two’s antics. Ellie felt overdressed, wearing her short sleeved blue worn denim shirt unbuttoned over a wife beater and shorts with her Converse, pockets stuffed with pre-rolls gifting her that usual marijuana infused smell that followed her around that said ‘Hey everyone! I’m a dealer!’ Upon stepping out into the backyard, it was clear what kind of party it was. The sun was still shining, and people seemed pretty drunk already — jumping off the low roof and into the pool, girls on the outskirts squealing in their bikinis. The floor was practically vibrating with the bass from a Drake song and the sun was sizzling the back of Ellie’s neck — recipe for a headache, she thought. She’d sell her shit, and get out.

She knew you’d be here. In the back of her mind she knew. And yet, her heart still damn near thudded out her chest when you were suddenly right in front of her, arms extended with a big toothy grin. Ellie had almost panicked, not ready for the confrontation. She hadn’t even gotten herself a drink yet, hadn’t even smoked yet and here you were. You were wearing a white bikini and it looks so pretty against your soft skin. She was looking at your tits again.

Ah, shit.

“Ellie! M’so happy you came! I didn’t think I’d ever see you at one of these!” You all but squealed, throwing your arms around her neck and pulling your body taut against hers. Ellie didn’t have to look at Dina and Jesse to know that their eyebrows were practically in their hairline, taking in the scene in front of them. Your bikini top was damp still clearly having taken a dip in the pool earlier, along with the ends of your hair and she felt the wet triangles pressing damp spots into her own chest, your tits pressed up against her. You even had the nerve to let out a happy little ‘mmph’ moan as your body collided with hers. Were you really that happy to see her? God, if I had a dick right now, it would be rock fuckin’ hard. Thank fuck I don’t, Ellie thought— eyes opening again, not realising that she had squeezed them shut to suppress a moan when she’d hugged you back.

“Uh, yeah! Told you I’d consider it.” She tried to play it cool when she pulled back, taking in your giggly expression. You didn’t let go of her arm as you pulled away, and a waft of alcohol drifted through to Ellie’s nose, suddenly helping her understand the situation a little better. You were pretty drunk, but where was your boyfriend? Ellie scanned behind you, searching for his brunette mop only to be met with several dozens of them. Great. She felt a spike of anger in her chest again, violently protective. Who just leaves their girl wandering around in a bikini, drunk, at a frat party? “Wheres your little boyfriend?” Her expression flattened out, and she caught herself. She didn’t mean for it to come out like… that. Luckily, you were drunk enough to not notice the bitterness in her tone.

“Louis? Oh— uh…” Your bottom lip stuck out as you spun around on your tiptoes to see over heads, scanning the yard for him before spinning back with a shrug. You dropped back down onto the balls of your feet and your tits bounced in Ellie’s peripheral vision. “Who knows.” You giggle, eyes jumping to Ellie’s two friends, silently watching with amused smirks.

“Oh, uh— these are my friends. Dragged me along here. Dina,” She pointed. “And Jesse.” He gave you a little wave.

“Hi!” You chirped with an adorable little wave, before telling them your own name. “I’m not usually this…uh—”

“Drunk?” Ellie leant forward quietly with a smirk, like it was a secret just between the two of you. You giggled, turning back to her, introductions long forgotten as your face morphed into a theatric pout, blown out puppy dog eyes and all.

“Who says I’m drunk? Maybe I’m just really friendly.” You practically pur, suggestiveness dripping off your tone as your hand pulled her by her arm just that little bit closer, soft fingertips over her tattoo. Just as Ellie scrambled for an answer — your name was called in a familiar voice. Louis.

“Babe, there you are.” He sounded irritated, and Ellie straightened her back, jaw squaring ever so slightly. Be friendly, Ellie. He’s a customer — she remind herself. A shitty one, but he still pays you.

“Oh…” He took Ellie in, eyes jumping over her attire before glancing back at you. She just admit, she did look violently lesbian that day — and the body language between her and his girl wasn’t looking all too great to fresh eyes. “Hey.”

You reluctantly let go of Ellie’s arm, which didn’t go unnoticed by the brunette boy.

“I was just catching up with Ellie!” You grinned, and God — were you aware of just how flirtatious you looked batting your eyelashes up at her like that? In front of your boyfriend?

“Yeah, I see that.” Louis’ eyes didn’t leave Ellie’s, which of course she took as a competition without even thinking. She took a step closer, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She stood around 5’7. Taller when she wore boots. Taller if she fixed her posture. He wasn’t much taller than her, so she pretty much met his eye. Her heart skipped a few beats knowing you were watching her, but she held his gaze anyway— tilting her chin up a little. “Thanks for looking after my girl.” He spoke, which almost made Ellie want to laugh.

“Any time.” Eye to eye, the smirk that tugged at her lips held more meaning and the two of you knew it. Oh, she’d look after you alright. Louis’ eyes flickered away, glancing over at Dina and Jesse before back to her, stepping away and putting an arm around your shoulder.

“Come watch me play beer pong?” He spoke to you and you shrugged happily, taking the drink out of his hand and sipping. The freckled dealer couldn’t help but briefly think about how if you were with her she would have cut you off by this point, wrapping an arm around your waist and telling you that you’d had enough to drink, maybe suggest grabbing you a water. As he lead you away, you craned in his hold to wave at Ellie, who waved a few fingers back— watching closely. It was a casual crush before, but now it was on. She didn’t like Louis’ smugness, nor his general attitude or the way he was neglecting you. She had to take you and leave him with nothing. No, Ellie. You’re being like him. She’s not a piece of meat. But she knew the protectiveness didn’t stem from that. Did she think about you sexually? Yeah. But she could give you more than that. You were a sweet girl, and you should be treated as such.

“That was tense.” Dina raised her eyebrows, breaking the auburn haired girls concentration, her gaze snapping back to her friends.

“Oh, uh — he’s fuckin’… weird. I dunno. I give him my shitty weed.” She shrugged it off, looking over her shoulder once more to watch you disappear inside.

“I get it now, though. She’s a total smoke show.” Dina dropped her hand onto Ellie’s shoulder who sighed, shaking off the whole interaction.

“Whatever. I need a drink.” Ellie rolled her eyes, stepping away.

“She was hot.”

“Jesse, it’s okay when I say it. Not when you say it.”

“What? You just called her a smoke show! You’ve never called me that.”

Ellie left the bickering couple behind to find a beer, needing something cool and alcoholic to wind her down. Why was she getting so possessive over someone that wasn’t hers? You were making her feel like a creep, and she didn’t like that. Ellie did not catch feelings easily, despite her past mistakes. So like… what the fuck?

She didn’t see you for two weeks.

Maybe you’d realised you shouldn’t be giving her the eyes. Maybe Louis stepped up his game, who knows. Neither of you had even purchased any weed, and it was approaching exam season so Ellie knew you were stressed. But did she know? Was it presumptuous of her to ‘know’ how you feel?Just based off several occurrences and conversations when you’d come to her dorm to pick up? She tried to shake the feeling of you, your skin grazing hers and your pretty eyes staring up at her — and it was actually working. Maybe time does heal everything. Until of course, she went to the library and the clocks reversed on themselves.

She had to admit, she was falling a little behind in her work. She had gotten so preoccupied in selling that she had almost forgotten to be, well… a student. Her backpack was making her shoulder sore so she switched it to the other as she wandered through the building, fairly quiet for a Tuesday. She felt a pit of irritation bud inside her when she saw someone sat in the seat she wanted, the one that was away from everyone else in the library. She note the pink laptop case, the Hello Kitty stickers on the water bottle, the bracelets on the protruding arm. Oh, it was you.

Ellie was planning to walk on by. You’re here to do work, not flirt or get yourself involved in some kind of sapphic shenanigan. Your head was on the desk, and she figured you had fallen asleep — which almost made her smile fondly before she caught herself. Not yours, Ellie. As she stepped away however, she heard a sniffle. Then another. Ellie froze, willing herself not to do it. It’s not your responsibility Ellie, you can walk away and pretend you never saw. She pursed her lips, turning around anyway.

As she did so, you were lifting your head from the table, wiping your cheeks and nose of tears. You had this pitiful pout on your face, streaming eyes all pink and glossy and your nostrils damp in this oddly adorable way. Ellie still had time to creep away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“You uh… you good?” She stood awkwardly, making you snap your head towards her in surprise. She didn’t miss the way your eyes widened slightly in embarrassment at seeing a familiar face in such a vulnerable moment.

“Oh — Ellie. Um, yes. I’m fine.” You tried, but when you held her doubtful gaze — your lip wobbled again.

“Okay.” Ellie sighed after a beat, pulling up a seat and dragging it to your small table. Yep, she was doing this. “Talk to me.” She spoke in a hushed tone. She was so gentle with her voice and her eyes and her general demeanour — something you weren’t so used to — it soothed you enough to calm you for a moment and you revelled in the unfamiliar but warm feeling she brought you.

“I don’t wanna bore you with it.” You shook your head with an demure chuckle. Ellie wanted to reach forward and wipe your tears away, her hands itched on the table in-front of her instead.

“We’re literally in the library. I promise you that nothing is more boring than my text-book.” She raised an eyebrow with the attempts of making you laugh. Instead, you watched her for a moment. Ellie could tell you were wondering why she was being so nice to you. Does she treat all her customers this way?

“It’s… stupid. Louis just…” You sigh, as if the mere mention of his name makes you cringe. “We’re not that serious. So… I don’t care what he goes off and does in his spare time,” Interesting, Ellie noted. “But he gets really mad. And when he gets mad he gets mean. I guess I just need thicker skin.” Your voice cracked.

“Or you need to be with someone who’s not an asshole.” Ellie snipped before she got the chance to stop herself. Your eyes met hers again, a little wide in shock. “Sorry.” She closed her eyes, collecting herself. You blinked and two fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

“It’s… okay.” You whispered, playing with your bracelet. A silence sat between you two, just the sound of quiet shuffling in the library and your sniffs.

“Look, don’t let him get to you. You don’t… deserve that.” She shook her head and you nodded slowly, accepting. It was as if Louis were purposely giving her more reason to dislike him, and it was getting harder to hide her distaste for him. Snide comments were slipping out more frequently, Shit — she could barely even contain her facial expressions when his name was mentioned. Something had to be done soon, because she didn’t know how much ‘pretending’ she had left in her. Thankfully, the two of you seemed to have developed a bit of a friendship — so she felt less guilty about bashing your boyfriend, as you seemed understanding due to his often unlikeable ways.

“You done here soon?” Ellie looked around at the library. You wiped your cheek, hitting save on your laptop and shrugging.

“Didn’t really have any work to do, just didn’t know where to go.” You pout sadly, making Ellie have to dig her nails into her seat this time so that she didn’t lean forward and kiss it off you.

“Y’wanna smoke? On me. You need cheering up.” She stood up, swinging her backpack back on, studying long forgotten. You looked up at her hopefully, a glint of reluctance in your eye. You didn’t know why it felt wrong, you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Just two friends hanging out, right? Louis wouldn’t know that you’re attracted to her. You wasn’t even sure if Louis remembered that you were bisexual for Gods sake, despite telling him a whole bunch of times.

“Really? I can pay you Ellie…” Your eyebrows knit together, and she was already shaking her head.

“My treat. I don’t like seeing pretty girls cry. Makes me wanna cry. You want me to cry?” She joked, pointing at herself in disbelief. She felt relief at the giggle that made its way out your throat, covering your mouth as to not disturb the other library goers. Pretty girls. The words echoed around your head until your face was hot before it dropped into your stomach and made a nest there.

“Okay.” You agreed after a moment. What harm could it do? Louis was an asshole, and the guilt began to slip away as you stood up — remembering all the nasty things he’d said to you.

“Alright, good.” Ellie grinned, turning her face away for a moment so maybe you wouldn’t see how excited she was. You did.

“Thats a terrible first high story.” You giggled, taking a draw from the joint.

“What? Fuck you let’s hear yours then!” Ellie gaped, leaning forward from her seat on her bed to take the joint from you as you exhaled. You bit back your smile, letting your pink, watery eyes sail off in thought at you recalled your first time smoking.

“Kay, so… I was 17.” You staged dramatically, widening your eyes slightly as she smirked at your theatrics, leaning back with her eyes glued to you. If you weren’t so blazed, maybe you’d feel nervous under her simmering gaze. “Best friends brother let us smoke some in the backyard with his friends. I tried to play it cool, but I smoked too much and start laughing and I couldn’t stop. Like — it was painful, and I was scared because I couldn’t stop laughing. And they were all looking at me like what the fuck… so I went inside, tried to calm myself down and I threw up on the carpet. Like a distressed cat.” You pouted lightheartedly as Ellie chuckled along with your story.

“Threw up? How strong was the weed? Damn.” She laughed and you shook your head.

“It might have been the shots we’d done before hand to calm our nerves. Bad idea.” You cringed and she nodded, eyes still piercing into you as her laughter died down.

“That might’ve been it, yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as she brought the joint to her lips once again, sucking in as she inhaled the pungent smoke. Ellie always got this confidence about her when she smoked. Well — she always had this slightly cocky demeanour about her, but for the most part it was an act. A need to protect herself. A defence mechanism that helped her get by — being a dealer was a social ass job. But smoking made that feeling real. She knew that was bad, relying on weed for real confidence and all, but hey — she’ll take what she can get.

“How you feeling? Any better?” She tested the waters, almost sorry she brought it up when you remembered Louis’ existence, expression melting a little into one of slight disappointment. One that said ‘Oh yeah… him.’ Like you’d forgotten for a moment.

“I guess. Not gonna let it bother me like you said. I don’t have the energy.” You shrugged, tearing your gaze away to study your baby pink manicure instead. Ellie scoffed out a little chuckle, finally stubbing out the joint. The noise attracted your attention and you met her analytical stare.

“Can I… ask what you see in that guy? Not judging just… curious.” She held her hands up in defence, but you didn’t exactly jump to his rescue. Infact it took you a moment to think about it.

“I don’t…” You stop yourself from saying ‘I don’t know’, your pride still burning despite the weed letting your guard down. “He’s… nice most of the time. Kinda guy your parents want you to bring home. He’s not as bad as he seems around other people. I guess he makes me feel wanted when we’re together?” You consider, but the way you say it makes Ellie think that you don’t even fully believe it. “I think… it was gonna be just sex. When I first met him anyway, but if I’m being totally honest the sex isn’t worth it on its own so I dunno… I thought I’d feel more fulfilled by a commitment, you know?”

Ellie was delighted, to be honest. It was music to her ears. You were just spewing about how unfulfilled you were, and she was starting to feel more and more confident that she could convince you that there was a bigger and better world out there. She laughed, openly — letting the joy of the moment go to her head for a minute.

“Oh that’s funny?” You giggled back, chucking a small brown sentimental looking teddy bear at her from her bed. You pursed your lips and she could tell despite your laughter you were knocked slightly insecure by her reaction.

“A little.” She looks off to the side. You want to chuck something else at her but there’s nothing to throw.

“Why?” You push. You know why.

“Your boyfriend can’t fuck.” Her stomach tensed as another laugh bubbled up and you rolled your eyes theatrically, pushing yourself up just so you can dramatically change your position to face the other way on the bed, arms crossed and brow creased.

“Not opening up to you again.” You push out and she nudges you gently with her foot, a more sympathetic (yet equally amused) expression still at the surface.

“No, I’m sorry. Go on.” She waved her a hand a little in the smoky room, nudging you again with her sock covered toe.

“Thats it! There’s nothing else to it. My boyfriend can’t fuck and it sucks. I hate everything.” You complain, not daring to face her. She can’t help but burst out laughing again, the back of her head leaning back to rest on the wooden headboard as she runs a hand over her eyes, shielding herself from the bright dorm light, and you. She lets out an ‘ahhh’ at the end of her outburst.

She hears you whine her name, and she takes more pity on you this time purely because you sound so cute.

“Alright uh— tell me what he’s doing wrong. I’ll give you pointers to give to him so he can fix his shit.” She tries suddenly, as if just being struck by the idea — and she feels you slowly look at her. She pushes her chin down to her chest, looking at you now as she removes her hand from her eyes. You blink at her a couple of times, still pretty, still high as a kite.

You inhale through your nose, eyes drifting off in thought as you turn back towards her, invested, tucking your feet beneath your ass. You hum, coming up blank. “I don’t know. I feel like… you either got it or you don’t, you know? Sex is… emotional. Well, it should be. To him it’s just… getting off.” You shrug, opting to pick at a loose thread on her grey bed throw than look at her. The smirk is still dying on her lips like the slither of sunlight resting on water at the culmination of a sunset. She takes a little longer to think, brain fogged by her high.

“So… okay.” She pushes her palms into the bed to sit up a little more. “What do you like? I don’t really pin you as someone who… wants to be in control.” She analyses, watching you carefully for a reaction. She notices the flick up of your eyebrows and guesses — correct.

“With him there’s no… no one is in control. It’s not one person calling the shots or any kind of dynamic it’s just… we just fuck and that’s it.” You sound sad this time, like bringing the conversation to forefront was making you realised just how unhappy you were.

“Do you cum?” She asks abruptly, and you nearly choke on your own saliva. You think it catches her off guard too, because she looks away from you for a moment and itches her head before deciding fuck it, and goes back to staring. You bite your lip. Well there was that one time, you were on your back — Louis on top, you had a hand pressed between the two of you, rubbing your clit in quick sloppy circles as he got busy. Your eyes were closed. Did you cum? Kind of? Your eyes were closed. You were somewhere else. Somewhere softer and warmer, and it didn’t smell like beer and sweat. You shake your head, no. It was the closest time though, but Louis got all hostile about you touching yourself during sex. Said it was insulting, that you undermined him. You shook off the memory.

“No?” She whispers, eyebrows raised to the high heavens as if she just couldn’t fathom having sex and not making her partner cum — because that’s exactly what she was doing. She felt that hot tingling anger again in her chest, but it was dulled out by the weed — leaving her with just a light irritation at the back of her throat. “Thats fucked up.”

“Is it? I mean… orgasms take time. Doesn’t just happen in five minutes… that can get exhausting.” You defend, and you’re not sure why. You both know there’s no excuse.

“Nah.” She sniffs, not quite bothered to begin on how wrong you are. She switches the subject slightly instead. ��So let me guess, missionary everytime?”

Your eyes widen, pressing your fingers over your lips to stop the childish giggle from bursting out. Ellie’s eyes widen too, realising how, well — down bad she was acting. She felt like a teenage boy on Snapchat playing truth or dare asking an uninterested girl if she’d ever send nudes before.

“Uh— fuck, you don’t have to answer that. Just making conversatio—”

“Most of the time. I think…” You decide to share something to make her feel less invasive, not wanting the conversation to end. You actually enjoyed getting to talk someone about this. “I think I’d feel good on top, maybe. But, hmm. How do I put this?” You thought. You looked at her for a moment and she gazed back, waiting on you to continue. Her breath caught in her throat when you crawled up toward her. “Lay back, please?” It was a request, not a command — and Ellie thought she might be dreaming when you straddled her with a frustrated expression.

You settled, and she was hyper aware of the feeling of your pillowy ass dropped down onto her thighs over her warm crotch.

“Okay, say I’m here. In this position.” You explain as well as you can, and when you give a few demonstrative bounces on her phantom cock her hands instinctively land on your hips to steady you. Fuck. Fucking shit. You don’t even seem to notice, or care. “This,” You point at your position. “Is me being in charge and… I don’t want that. It— it doesn’t get me off. I don’t wanna feel like I’m dominating them.” You whisper the last part like you’re telling her a secret at a girly sleepover, and she catches herself grinning before she scrambles, running over what you just said in her brain.

“Wait. Nah, that’s…” She adjusts herself slightly sheepish because she can feel herself blushing. Be cool, Ellie. Be dominant. “Thats bull. It doesn’t matter what position you’re in, it’s about how you make them feel.” She shrugs, and when you continue to stare at her, pink, glossy wide eyes— she carries on, you requiring more explanation. “If you’re on top working overtime, he should be telling you what a good job you’re doin’. How pretty you look doin’ it.” Her voices rasps in the way it does when she gets horny and she hopes she’s not giving herself away. Your mind goes a little blank, succumbing to the daydream of receiving that kind of praise. It makes your skin feel clammy. Louis isn’t below you in your daydream. Your freckled friend breaks your trail of thoughts. “And,” She’s smug now, and raises her knees behind you, planting her feet down on the bed and thrusting upwards a few times making you bounce a little, gripping her tighter. “Doesn’t matter if you were on top. I could still be the one fucking you. Just like this.”

You pause, only because you’re frozen in fear that she can feel the sudden floodgates open between your legs— praying to every God imaginable that you don’t leave some kind of pathetic wet patch on her. She thinks you’ve frozen at what she’s said.

“Uh— I mean Louis. Louis could still be the one— yeah.” She shrugs off, squeezing your hips with her warm fingers and you’re suddenly aware of your compromising position again, shaken from a dream. You slide off her quickly, bringing your knees to your chest and your back to the cool wall beside her bed. You were not a cheater. It doesn’t matter that the two of you didn’t kiss, or fuck, or whatever — what would have happened if Louis had walked in and seen you in your very gay dealers lap, pretending to have sex? You were not a cheater.

Ellie’s mouth was agape, like she wanted to say sorry but just couldn’t find it in her to feel sorry enough to say it. Her eyes were worried however, worried she’d made you uncomfortable or pushed it too far.

“I should… I shouldn’t stay. It’s getting late and—” You started looking for your bag with your laptop in it, where did you put it again?

“I’m sorry I— I didn’t mean to be weird. That was… I made you feel—” Her tone was apologetic now.

“No, no. It’s not that. I’m just hungry and I get weird when I’m… when I haven’t eaten. You’re fine. I mean, you were fine. Nothing weird just… friends hanging out, right?”

It hurt her, but Ellie nodded anyway. You were going back to him. It always ended this way.

“‘Kay. You got everything? You gonna be okay getting back? You’re still high.” Ellie stood, awkwardly dawdling behind you as you scooped up your purse. “I can walk you back—” She started patting her pockets for her key card.

“It’s okay, really. It’s still light outside and it’s a short walk. I think I need just… fresh air and quiet.” You avoid her eyes, but turn to face her as you back towards her door.

“Okay.” She was disappointed. “I hope you feel better now, ‘n stuff.” Your hand pushed the cold metal handle down and the hallway of her building was just as muggy, but it felt like a relief when some of the smoke from her dorm was released.

“I do.” You could look now, standing in the hallway as she didn’t move past her doorway. The distance made it safe enough to look at her pretty eyes without feeling you were going to do something bad. “Thank you Ellie. I owe you one.” Your brows knit together sincerely. Sure, I have a favour I need — break up with your boyfriend.

“Sure.” Ellie left it there, shook her head like it was nothing. “Text me and just… let me know that you got in okay. Yeah?” She continued to speak to you as you backed up down the hallway, awkwardly fumbling with your bag. It was wrong to let a girl walk back home high and alone. She thought about you walking around drunk and alone at that frat party. She was Louis this time.

“Will do. See you, Ellie.” Her name sounded like music when you said it. She had a new favourite song.

Your dorm was cooler, refreshing to be in when you got back. Your first mission was to look in the mirror and you sighed almost angrily seeing how flustered and a little dishevelled you look. You wanted to take the clothes off that touched her, still stinking of weed. You wanted food in your belly to flush her out. Flopping onto your back on your bed you pull your phone out, ignoring the texts and calls from your boyfriend — all to send a message to your dealer.

‘got back safe, thanks again😊’ You regret the emoji, but the Read: 5:13PM was immediate so there was no time to regret it for long. Three bubbles and then ‘Good’. You stare at the text, and then stare past the phone. You didn’t want to answer Louis right now. He could wait until tomorrow.

part two

#ellie williams x reader #dealer!ellie #ellie williams au #ellie williams fic #ellie tlou2 fic

3K notes · View notes

luffington · 30 days

Text

young master ♡

➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)

➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.7k

➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling

➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.

Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!

You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult.

The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you.

You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned.

You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.

You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.

A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”

Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”

“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.”

“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”

Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you.

“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them.

“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”

Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?

He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it.

He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’.

Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.

“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl.

“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid.

“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”

Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”

His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you.

They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.

“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”

The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind.

You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.

“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again.

“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip.

You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core.

Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants.

He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”

“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”

“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later.

A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more.

Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.

His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”

“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.

“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”

“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.

“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”

You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.

You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”

Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.”

“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.

Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”

A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.

“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.

You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.

“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”

A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet.

“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”

“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”

Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy.

But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness.

Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.

“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix.

“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”

“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.”

You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss.

He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.

“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer.

You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname.

He came hard.

The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down.

Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension.

Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering.

You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”

Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles.

“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”

The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose.

“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”

#mine #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo smut #doffy x reader #doflamingo #doffy #one piece x reader #one piece smut #my fics #donquixote doflamingo

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droserapetals · 4 months

Text

Arranged Marriage

Pairing: Naoya x (f!)reader

Synopsis: You are forced to marry the one and only Naoya Zenin, ruthless leader of the Zenin clan. You try to make an escape from you’re fate, but let’s see how far that gets you.

Content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, power dynamic, size difference, arranged marriage, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with this wackadoodle), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, body betrayal, biting, blood, praise, swearing, pet names (doll/princess/love/baby), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, reader gets hunted, reader was is a virgin, reader and Naoya are adults (obviously).

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Naoya lets out a frustrated shout as you ran, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits as he watches you with a look of pure, unhinged fury. *How dare you? You think you could get away from me that easily?* His fists clench and unclench, shaking on his wrists. *You belong to me.*

You can barely feel the rocks and sticks scratching at your legs and bare feet as you maneuver through the the foliage of the desolate forest as quickly as you can manage. You’re Trying to create as much distance from you and the angry man behind you as possible.

How did you end up like this? Well for starters, your father sold you off to the Zenin clan after being offered a hefty lump some of money. Figures, that slimy-cheap bastard.

It wasn’t long before your beauty was taken notice by the green-haired man referred to as Naoya Zenin. His eyes hooded in a predatory hunger as his gaze raked over your frame, lingering at your pillow soft lips. He would make you his. He was sure of that.

As soon as you entered the estate, you were immediately forced in a scratchy white gown, a few sizes too small, breasts almost spilling out of the heart line top, and sent to his chambers without even as much as a word of having a wedding reception beforehand. Not that you wanted that anyway.

As soon as the lords escorts walk you up to his door and knock, they begin to walk away, not wanting to stick around for what they could imagine will come about you shortly after your arrival to the lords chambers.

As soon as the men round the corner, your head whips back around to the sound of the door in front of you squeaking open slowly.

In that moment you don’t think. You run.

So here you are, running away from your so called “husband” you’ve never even properly met on your technically phrased “honeymoon night.”

You barely hear the crickets chirping from a unknown distance through the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums. You don’t even know where you are going, much less where you are. You were blindfolded upon arrival. The Zenin clan is very discrete on there whereabouts to avoid their rivals showing up… unannounced. Even though your odds are slim at obtaining your own freedom, you just keep on moving, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Naoya follows, moving at a frightening speed. His footsteps travel hastily through the forest, his movements swift and precise like a predator hunting down its prey. The trees rustle, the bushes crack, the leaves crinkling as he maneuvers through them.

Naoya is getting closer. He’ll find you. You are his.

The hem of your long skirt snags against a root protruding from the forest floor, and you are briefly stuck. You curse, yanking your skirt and tearing a good chunk of it in the process. You stagger forward.

Your legs are starting to cramp and you’re beginning to get light headed. Not good. You can’t remember the last full meal or glass of water you’ve had since being brought to that estate, and it seems to be catching up with you now. You stumble across a hollow log by a creek and hurry to dive in it. Trying to catch your breath as you hide. Your lungs are burning and your hands can’t stop trembling, and you can only hope that the running sounds of water flowing downstream covers the shallow gasps you are making to collect yourself.

Naoya scans the distance, his breath coming quickly and heavy. He sniffs the air. “Come out now love, I can smell your fear.” He licks his lips. “If you come to my feet now and beg to be forgiven I might consider going easy on you.” He can’t help himself from getting a little hard at the thought of you resisting his advances. As troublesome as it may be. He groans. His gaze moves to the trees and bushes, to the creek that flows nearby. “Where is she…” He whispers, his expression darkening. Every second that passes is agony for him. He’s so close to having you back in his grasp, to making you his.

You hold your breath as you hear him getting closer. Your hands covering your mouth. Then, after what feels like an eternity, it sounds like footsteps are receding. You can’t help but feel a small wave of relief wash over you. Freedom feeling more obtainable than before. You wait a second more before slowly crawling out of the log, and assessing your next move.

As you shimmy all the way out, you get on your feet. All you can hear is the quiet rustle of the leaves. The breeze blows through your hair, causing some wisps to suspend in the air briefly. The feeling could be described as calming and ethereal if not given the circumstances. Wait, weren’t there crickets chirping a second ago?

Now it’s eerily quiet.

You freeze as you feel a pair of eyes on you. You hesitantly look up and almost choke. You see a dark shadow with glowing orbs looking down on your cowering form predatorily. You can’t see but only sense the triumphant smirk they have on their face, camouflaged by the shadows.

"Found you."

You stumble back in fear at the sound of the deep growl of the voice above and try to scramble away on all fours. “No!”

Naoya leaps off the tree branch with a heavy thud and quickly grabs you, his grip tight as he pulls you back toward him effectively pinning you to the forest floor. “You’re not going anywhere.” He growls, his expression darkening. He leans over you, his scent invading your nostrils, as his lips trace down your neck to your collarbone. His breath is hot and heavy, like he’s excited.

“Don’t you think it’d be better to just give in now?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping this is all just a sick and twisted dream you can wake up from. When that doesn’t work, you try shouting. “Help! Please, someone hel- mmph!“

Naoya clamps a hand over your mouth before you can get a word out. His grip is tight, his hand large and overbearing. "No one can hear us out here," He mutters, his voice low and menacing. "Save your breath."

His hand trails down your back, down until he meets your thigh. His gaze trails down to your legs, and his mouth curls into a satisfied grin. "I’ve finally caught you. I can do whatever I want with you now."

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“All that screaming and crying… for nothing,” Naoya tsks, tone mocking as he throws you onto his soft duvet, not bothering with the dirt and grime caking your frame. Not as much so, but he is fairly disheveled himself. Some dampened strands of his emerald locks matted to his head from your guys’… “escapade” earlier, and a bead of sweat could be seen falling and disappearing behind the collar of his button-up shirt. He now makes his way over to you, crawling on the bed at all fours with eyes that are hooded in rage… and lust.

As he hovers over you, he lifts his head to give you a condescending grin. “You still ended up here with me. So much for getting away, huh?” There’s an underlying bitterness to his words. Like he’s upset you tried to leave him at all.

You look away, willing myself not to cry. *I’m stronger than that.* “I can’t be with you, Naoya. I won’t stop until I can escape here and you.” You now look up at him defiantly.

“Escape?” Naoya asks the question as though he hasn’t heard it a thousand times before. He rises from the bed, letting his eyes run across your body. “Escape…?” He leans closer to you and takes a finger and gently runs it along your collarbone. He can see the desperation in your eyes. How you struggle to keep from crying.

You try not to shiver at his touch but fail miserably. “What do you want from me. Why choose to marry me of all people?” Your lower lip quivers slightly.

His touch lingers, taking in every detail of your skin. He leans forward. His breath is hot and his eyes are predatory as he glares at you. “You of all people?” He asks the question as though you should already know the answer. His hands trail down your body, his fingers inching toward the hem of your dress, toward the fabric that hides what he wants so desperately.

You squeak in embarrassment. Pressing your legs together so he can’t reach any further. “Naoya, stop!”

“Stop?” Naoya raises an eyebrow, his expression dark. His voice is a dangerous, husky whisper. “No, I think I’ll continue.” It’s a threat, a promise.

A tear finally escapes and runs down your cheek quietly as you look up at him, a faint blush on your cheeks.

Naoya’s lips part, taking in the sight of you crying as his mouth twists into a satisfied grin. “What a pretty sight.” He says, his voice still low and threatening. He looks at the tear that trails down your cheek, taking in its beauty like a predator savoring its prey.

He leans forward to wipe away the tear, to brush his lips against your wet skin.

You hold back a moan lodged in your throat and shudder. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction that your responding to his touch. You look away from him and bite your lip defiantly.

Naoya laughs softly, his hand trailing behind your head as his fingers twine around your hair. You can almost feel his gaze, raking down your body and taking what he wants just by staring. Your attempts at defiance don’t faze him.

“Such a stubborn girl,” He whispers, his tone low and harsh. He leans forward, his lips right beside your ear. “But I’ll break you.”

You hide your whimper by scoffing lightly. You attempt to push him off of you, but to no success. He doesn’t even budge. His frame towers over yours, and you know if he wanted he could crush your windpipe single handily without a second thought. That realization makes you gulp.

Naoya’s grip tightens around your hair as you try to get away. His mouth traces your jawline as his eyes glisten in the low light. “You don’t want this?” He asks, feigning surprise. But the arousal in his eyes says otherwise.

You give up trying to push him off and a groan escapes your throat at him pulling your hair before you could contain it. “Naoya please. I’m a… virgin.” You look away again. Face getting hot and heat spreading down to the lower parts of you to your dismay.

Naoya freezes, his grip loosening as he looks at you. Your lack of experience seems to both please and intrigue him. “That can change,” Naoya mutters. His lips trail down your neck, and his hands move from your hair to your waist, gripping you firmly.

“W-what do you mean by that?” You look at him through your long lashes with a clueless doe-like expression.

Naoya grins at you. You’re so cute and you don’t even realize it. “Exactly what you *think* I mean,” He whispers, bringing you in closer. Your breath catches in your throat as he presses his body against yours. A wave of heat washes over you as you feel his hard bulge resting over your lower tummy.

It throbs at the clothed contact, causing Naoya to fling his head back and let out a low groan.

You whimper at the sight. Hating the way he has this level of control over you. You feel like a butterfly caught in a sticky web that is Naoya Zenin. Your body betrays you and relaxes a little, enough for him to take notice.

He looks back down at you pointedly. “Good girl. That’s it, relax for me.” Naoya grunts as he pulls you close to him, hand trailing to the waistband of your panties and teases the skin there. He kisses your neck and bites gently at your skin. He wants you to moan for him. To give him what he wants. To give him control. Your body betrays you, wanting him to claim you.

You keen and rub your thighs together, hoping to ease the growing ache there. You run your hands hesitantly town his torso and blush at the feeling of his hard muscles straining through the fabric.

Naoya smirks as he hears your moans. “You like this?” He asks the question as though he doesn’t know the answer. The heat he feels from you makes his heart pound. He pulls back to face you, his eyes meeting yours and his breath hot on your skin.

I bite my lip and slowly nod up at him. “Please, Naoya…”

Naoya chuckles. Your begging is pleasing. Your desperation. It’s amusing how eager you are for him. “Please…” Naoya mocks, his tone amused. “Pretty please.” He leans in so you can feel his presence. His breath is hot and his fingers trail along your thighs.

You gasp as he inches closer to your aching core. Craving his touch even more.

He finally hovers over your clothed cunt, the fabric visibly growing wetter the longer he looks at it.

He leans in till his nose nudges your puffy clit inhaling deep into your scent. Growling deep in his throat, the sound vibrating in your chest.

You try to squirm away out of embarrassment but his hands hold your hips firm, keeping you in place.

Naoya’s eyes are lazily hooded and he grins as he watches you squirm and moan. Your thighs are like putty in his hands. He’s in control. He’s the hunter and you’re his delectable prey.

You half-heartedly try to pull away a little. Lust clouding your senses and rational thinking. “We shouldn’t do this” you say, trying to regain your composure to the best of your ability.

Naoya narrows his eyes at you. Your attempt at defiance only makes him smirk. “Shouldn’t do this?” He asks, feigning surprise. “Who says we shouldn’t? You’re my wife now. This is the only way to… seal the deal.”

You gulp at his words, and before you can process what’s happening he grips both of your thighs in his rough hands, spreads them as far as they could go, and rips your panties off of you in one fluid motion. Not wasting any time, he flattens his tongue, and licks a long stripe down from your rim to your clit and back down again.

Your head falls back into the pillows as you let out a startled moan. He smirks into your heat and quickens his pace. Spitting on it to dive down and lick it all up again. Not letting any of your juices go to waste.

“You taste so good, love. I don’t know how I’ve gone so long without a pussy like this.” He groans into your crotch, sending vibrations to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your hips begin to buck into his mouth involuntarily, your orgasm already approaching fast. Your wines getting more high pitched indicating to Naoya that you were close.

He lets a couple seconds come and go before he halts his movements, sitting up and licking his lips all the while a feline like grin spreads over his face.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and annoyance as your orgasm slowly fades away.

He chuckles at your expression, “Maybe next time I’ll cater to your needs, but tonight, this is strictly for my own pleasure.”

His eyes grow dark as he is quick to rip off the remainder of your dress, your breasts springing free with a single bounce.

His expression gets even hungrier if that’s possible, as he takes over your fully nude frame. You try to cover yourself up but he’s quick to pin your arms over your head with a single hand.

He chides you, “Tsk tsk. Don’t get shy on me now. You’re lucky it’s your first time and I’m feeling a little generous towards my lovely wife on our wedding night. I’ll go a little gentler on you than expected.”

His long thick fingers trail over your slit and his middle finger slowly starts to push into your entrance.

You hiss in pain, tears streaming down your face freely now and he’s quick to lick them up one by one, easing his finger in more in the process.

“Shh. Just breathe. You’ll be alright, love.”

You take a couple shaky breaths in your nose and out your mouth and he begins to pull his finger back out, only to plunge it back in.

You cry out, but the more he moves and curls his finger inside of you the more it starts to feel…good. Really good.

He then adds two more fingers and makes a scissoring motion inside of you, feeling achingly sweet.

It’s not long before your skin flushes a beautiful pink and you start getting light headed, a panting mess.

For what feels like just couple more seconds, he quickly withdraws his hand and laps at his digits. Cleaning your juices off of him and the tinge of blood along with it.

You’re beginning to get into a state where you are feeling loopy and delirious. Probably from the plethora of emotions you’ve been subjected to in such a short period of time.

Naoya brings you back to earth slightly by leaning in and placing his lips on yours, letting you taste him and yourself. You greedily suck at his tongue and drag your nails through his hair. Earning you a growl from the back of his throat.

“Stop doing that or I’ll finish before I set out to complete what I’ve started.” You let go and rest your hands on his chest briefly before fisting them into the sheets below you both instead.

“Good girl, now I warmed you up good for me, but it’s still going to sting a little… so be prepared for that,” he says, eyes never leaving yours.

He makes quick work at unbuttoning his slacks, and slides down his black boxer briefs until his erection springs free. Not bothering to take the rest of his clothes off.

You feel your eyes almost bulge out of your head and you subconsciously try to wiggle out of his grasp. He was TOO big.

His grip on you tightens as he smirks cockily at your reaction. “Don’t worry darling, we’ll make it fit.”

His cock was practically dripping with pre cum, and the head an angry read throbbing to be touched. He was thick and long, the girth alone just shy from the size of your forearm.

You try to take deep breaths and relax as he brings the tip of his cock to your folds, brushing it up and down to collect some of your slick that has accumulated there. Then, you feel him nudging at your entrance.

You bite your lip hard as he slowly eases his way into your tight walls, squeezing his shaft hard already.

“So fucking tight.” He hissed through his teeth and lays down on top of you to rest his elbows on either side of your head, forcing his cock the rest of the way in.

You taste a metallic tang in your mouth and realized you drew blood from biting your lip so hard. Naoya notices and drags his tongue over the mark, soothing the cut while remaining still as he now bottoms out inside you.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. I will make sure you’re rewarded for your good behavior.”

He then slowly pulls out about half way, before easing himself back inside of you.

Your eyes screw shut at the burning sensation of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, but then you feel a coil deep inside of you start to make its way to the surface.

It still stings, of course, but overriding that you begin to feel an overwhelming amount of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Naoya was keeping a close eye on your reactions this whole time, and as soon as he felt your walls fluttering around him and your hips beginning to buck against him, wanting more, he increases his pace.

He now pulls almost all the way out and slams back into you at a punishing pace. You scream at the sudden increase in pleasure and your hands fly to his hair again to claw and yank at his soft locks.

He groans lowly at your actions, and grabs your legs in one swift motion to put them over his shoulders. Arms now propped up to support the added weight with ease.

His jaw flexes in concentration not to cum prematurely, but just seeing the way your eyes are rolling into the back of your head and the drool leaving your lips, he knew he wasn’t going to last long.

This new angle was causing his swollen tip to kiss you cervix with each trust and massage your gummy walls in all the right places. You could feel yourself approaching your orgasm fast as well.

Naoya grabs your chin before you’re completely drunk off his cock, “ Look at me, love. I’m right here.” He grunts, patting your cheek rough enough to bring your attention back to him.

“Nao-ah~! I’m c-close.” You wine. You sound so desperate now. Just having tunnel vision for your impending release.

And that sets Naoya off. He’s slamming into you now at a brutal pace, not caring to make sure you could take it. He’s gripping your hips so hard now that it will for sure leave bruises in the morning.

“Oh baby, I’m close too. Come for me now. Please. I need to feel you milking me as I breed this pussy.”

You don’t catch the last part as that coil in your lower abdomen snaps and you feel the white hot pleasure of your orgasm crashing down at you with full force. You don’t know if your sobbing or blubbering or shrieking at the feeling. Maybe all three. You’ve never felt this kind of intense pleasure in your life.

Naoya isn’t that far behind, he soon reaches his own climax and sends ropes of warm gooey cum into your pussy, his pace stuttering but not stopping till he’s filling you up to the hilt in his cum.

After the pleasure subsides a bit, you are able to ground yourself a bit and take in your surroundings.

The room is lavish, dim candles flickering on the night stands between you. You are currently laying a king bed centered in a large room. Naoyas room. Clad with a dark velvet obsidian bedspread.

You look above you to see Naoya with his brows furrowed and breath fanning your face, still inside you coming down from his high as well. He then withdraws slowly from you and flops beside you on the large bed. Letting out a long sigh from his bruised lips.

You try to ignore the pooling feeling of his cum seeping out of you as curl away from him, hugging your own frame.

He doesn’t say a word, but lifts the covers out from underneath the both of you and drapes the sheets over you and himself. He then glances over to you briefly before sprawling out on his side of the bed, finding sleep soon. The bed you’ll be sharing from now on. You’re his wife now, no matter how much you didn’t want to be. He will make sure you come to know that.

#naoya zenin #naoya x reader #jjk naoya #naoya smut #naoya x you #x reader smut #jjk smut #tw: yandere #tw: dubcon #jujutsu kaisen

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alrightieaphroditie · 11 months

Text

sticky situations | j.m

*:·ﾟ✧ back to masterlist

pairing *:·ﾟdbf!joel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ5k warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! pretty much porn w/ minimal plot, dads best friend, age gap (reader is in early 20s, joel is like late 30s/early 40s) kissing, fun with popsicles (so like ice play, in a way), brief mention of choking, titty play, pet names (lots of ‘baby’ and ‘honey’) dirty talk, praise, slight humiliation if you squint, smidge of mutual masturbation, bossy!joel, unprotected p in v (please wrap it before you tap it), slight breeding kink, probably poorly written smut… i think that’s it :)) an *:·ﾟi lowkey told myself i’d never write a dad’s best friend joel miller story and yet here i am. this literally came to me in a fever dream, and i promise i am still working on my screwed series, but i could not stop writing this. mostly unedited (my bad) but i feel hella proud with this one, so i really hope you all enjoy!! stay safe if your celebrating the fourth today!

synopsis *:·ﾟbeing in a secret relationship with your dad's best friend isn't for the weak. while getting some popsicles from the garage, said boyfriend - joel miller - corners you during the firework show after you spent the day teasing him.

the scorching texas sun was high in the sky, and the sounds of children squealing carried loudly over the radio playing. the miller’s (moreso tommy, even though he didn’t technically live there) had been kind enough to open their pool to the neighborhood for the fourth of july holiday, and on a day like today, you weren’t surprised that their backyard was crammed full of people.

given that your father was joel miller’s best friend, you had already had plans to come utilize his pool, but now you could barely float like you planned with how many children were swimming in it. sarah’s soccer team had come over after practice as well, and it was to the point where even walking in the backyard was like walking through a landmine; you were consciously trying not to bump into anyone or step on a foot (or a child.)

your father had planted himself at the grill with the host himself, the two of them talking about god knows what. every now and then you’d catch joel’s eyes, and he’d take in the bikini top you wore, the sage green color complementing your skin.

you had told your father that you had bought it at the mall last weekend, but the truth was that joel had bought it for you, along with the skimpiest bottoms he could find. those you were wearing too, but you had them concealed by a pair of jean shorts. with the way he was eyeing right now, and the way you were subsequently eyeing him back, you were surprised that no one around you had picked up on the fact that you two were together.

it had been a few months, pretty much ever since you came home to your dad’s from school for the summer. he had moved into this neighborhood after your parents divorce, and when he told you back in january that he had the most amazing neighbor, you were happy for him. flash forward to your visit during spring break and it was joel miller this and joel miller that in your house. not that you really minded, you thought the contractor next door was very handsome, even if he was almost twenty years older than you.

your dad had introduced the two of you during your spring break, with joel being an absolute gentleman, and for a little bit that was all you had. but then your dad was pulled away for work, and even though you were fully an adult, he wanted someone to be there for you if needed. he gave you joel’s phone number, along with the promise that joel would do anything to help you, and that started the snowball effect to the beginning of your relationship.

you hardly used the number while you were home, but for some reason you found yourself staring at it one night alone when you were back in your apartment. joel hadn’t given you any hint, any indicator that he even liked you as a person. you mean, sure, he was kind and always polite to you when your dad had him over for dinners. but you noticed he always purposefully put some type of distance between you, and it just didn’t sit right with you.

so, slightly drunk and alone, you sent him the first text message. a simple, hey, it’s y/n from next door, and then, because you were in a mood and wanted attention: sorry to bother you so late, but my dad told me to text you if i ever needed anything. immediately after you wished you could’ve deleted it, and a few minutes had passed before you decided to put your phone down for the rest of the night. just as you placed it on the table next to your bed, you felt it buzz. think he meant that for when you’re next door, but what can i do for ya?

and that was that. you and joel texted throughout the night, and then all morning, and all afternoon, and all the next night. this continued for weeks, until you graduated to having nightly phone calls, and then facetime calls (you had to have joel ask sarah how to use facetime to begin with, but you thought that was cute) and for the rest of the semester, joel became your closest friend, and your biggest crush. and when you came home for the summer, you officially started dating joel miller. well… it was official between the two of you.

you never imagined falling for your dad’s best friend, and yet, here you were, in his backyard, wearing the bathing suit he had bought you, wishing you could at least hold his hand in front of everyone.

you saw his brown eyes dart in your direction as you moved near the grill, your ears picking up their conversation about the most recent football game. you watched as his pinky finger on the hand by his side extended ever so slightly, and as you walked passed, you brushed your pinky against his. the warmth the feeling gave you made you grin, and you slipped through his open back door, looking for sarah to help you and tommy set up the fireworks display in the street.

the rest of the evening went by in a blur - there were hotdogs and burgers eaten, smores were made with the small bonfire tommy had started, the music volume continued to increase with every passing hour. by the time the sky was pitch black with only a smattering of stars, everyone was full, content, and ready to sit on the sidewalks and lawns to watch the display happening at the end of the cul-de-sac.

you sat near sarah and some of her friends from soccer, listening to them gossip about what was going on in their highschool, but your focus was on joel. your eyes followed every movement of his, watching him pick up the boxes you had hauled out there and rearrange them. the gray t-shirt he was wearing was tighter around his arms, and you watched as the material strained against his biceps, his worn blue jeans curving to the muscles in his thighs.

the sun had gone down hours ago, but your cheeks were burning like it was still noon.

it finally came time for them to start the first round, and everyone chatted excitedly as they watched tommy set up the firework. you watched as joel tossed his brother a lighter, and before you knew it, sparks were flying across the pavement, and both brothers were running from it laughing. everyone’s head tilted back as they followed the spark, and seconds later a ground shaking boom exploded, the sky becoming colored in blue sparks. the children cheered, the adults laughed, and the dogs went crazy barking.

you watched a couple more rounds, grinning as kids began chasing each other with sparklers and laughing when tommy burned his finger slightly on a rouge firework. pushing up on your feet, you wiped your pants for straw pieces of grass while you turned to sarah. “hey, i’m gonna go grab a popsicle, do you want one, hun?” the girls eyes met yours and she nodded her head while still talking to her friend.

you made your way into the garage where you knew joel kept a deep freezer full of goodies on sarah’s behalf. you grabbed the first one you saw, a red cherry popsicle, and opened it while you searched the freezer for sarah’s favorite. you were so preoccupied that you didn’t make out the sound of the door to the garage click shut under the noise of the fireworks, didn’t realize that you were no longer alone until you shifted up and rough, callused hands spread across your exposed middle.

“joel,” you gasped, turning around in his grip with a laugh. his brown eyes were lit with amusement, but they darkened slightly as they roamed down your chest, down your hips where the strings of the bikini bottoms were peaking out. his hands slid down your sides, resting on the waistband of your shorts as he tucked his fingers through the belt loops.

“y’just had to wear this damn bikini, didn’t you?” his voice was rough, grumpy almost, but that was joel’s typical voice, so you just laughed in response. behind you, the freezer door fell shut, and joel took the opportunity to lift you up so that you were sitting on top. the cold surface made you shiver, but it was joel stepping between your legs, pressing his hips against yours harshly that gave you goosebumps.

“well, a nice older man did buy it for me, so i felt compelled.” you teased, moving one of your arms to rest against his shoulder while you licked along your popsicle, the treat already melting in the heat building up in the garage. joel’s eyes zeroed in on the movement, and you couldn’t help but grin as you repeated the motion, sucking the popsicle further in your mouth than probably necessary, watching as his brown eyes practically blended in with his pupils.

“god, you’re trouble,” joel managed to get out before his lips slanted over yours. you moaned into the kiss, consciously holding your popsicle to the side so it didn’t get all over the two of you. your other hand moved to the back of his head, fingers running through his brown locks gently. joel swiped his tongue against your bottom lip and made a low humming sound. “taste like cherries,” he commented, sliding his hand from your waist up to your throat.

“it’s the popsicle,” you gasped out, feeling joel’s hand encompass your neck. he pulled your hips forward against his by your belt loop, rocking you against him. his lips trailed from yours down to your jaw, down your neck, to your chest. the action had you panting out his name like a prayer, and it only further encouraged him. he managed to untie your bikini top without you noticing, and he roughly yanked the material over your head.

“let me see this thing,” leaning back, he took the popsicle from your grip, your hand becoming sticky from it melting in your hand. he licked it himself, which had you giggling, but then he put the treat up to your mouth. “open up, baby. wanna see you lick this like you lick me, yeah?” his voice was soft, comforting almost, which went against the actions of his hands, as one tightened around your neck and the other pushed the cherry treat into your mouth.

your eyes went hazy, and you focused on maintaining eye contact with joel while your face burned with heat. your mouth wrapped around the popsicle, letting him push it in as far as it could go. the coldness of the treat shocked you momentarily, feeling a slight burning sensation against your tongue as he held the popsicle in your mouth for a moment before slowly pulling it out.

your cheeks hollowed against it, sucking as much of the flavor off as you could, and when joel pulled it out of your mouth, a red string of your spit fell from your lips to your chest, dripping down in between the valley of your breasts. “fuck, honey.” joel groaned, his hips rutting against yours momentarily before he leaned down, licking up the trail of red juice on your skin. a whimper escaped from your mouth as you pressed your chest closer to his mouth, and joel took the opportunity to force the popsicle back in your mouth.

he slowly moved the popsicle inside your mouth, and even though he had his eyes closed while he pressed his mouth against your chest, you twirling your tongue around the treat, wanting to please him always. you could feel your bathing suit bottom sticking to your core with how wet you were becoming, and you wiggled your hips against joel’s body to get some type of friction.

he sucked one last kiss against your neck, biting against your skin before he pulled away. “goddamn, baby. such a good girl for me, huh? suckin’ on this popsicle like it’s my damn cock.” his crude words made you whimper, and with one last twist, he pulled the popsicle out of your mouth. his dark eyes stared at your mouth for a moment, taking in how red the popsicle made your lips. how wet they were from your saliva.

joel’s mouth formed into a smirk before it was pressed against yours. your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp faintly. he sucked your bottom lip in his mouth, running his tongue over it slowly as if savoring the cherry flavor. his teeth nipped your lip, causing a moan to emit from your mouth. joel grinned against your mouth, and you tugged him closer, desperately seeking more.

the air in the garage was becoming suffocating, and you could feel sweat forming along your upper body. joel could feel it too, still clad in his t-shirt and jeans, and he gave you one more deep kiss before he pulled away. “you feelin’ hot, baby?” you could only nod your head, a whimper escaping your mouth as he grinned wickedly at you, eyeing the popsicle once more, the treat half melted. “let’s cool ya down, then.”

you watched with a slightly opened mouth as joel moved the popsicle to your chest, and you gasped when he pressed it against your skin, moving it down the valley of your breast. the coldness made goosebumps rise across your chest, and you couldn’t help the small moans at how good it felt. joel’s attention was solely on popsicle, watching the sticky trail of red juice follow where he guided it.

“joel,” you whimpered, reaching down to grip his forearm tightly. you could see him smile, could see him bite down on his bottom lip as he moved the popsicle to trail over your nipple. the gasp you made had him obsessed, and he ran the cold treat over your sensitive nub over and over again, taking in your gasps and moans, which were being drowned out by the fireworks outside.

“fuck, you look so pretty like this.” joel muttered, almost to himself, but you could make out the words in his deep voice. he sounded strained, as if he were holding himself back from simply pouncing on you. you wish he would, though, as you could feel your inner thighs become wet with your slick. your core was clenching around nothing, and it had been so long since the two of you were able to get away that you were desperately aching for him.

the popsicle was melting quicker now, the juices moving swiftly down your stomach as joel traced the popsicle across your chest to the other nipple. you were squirming as much as you could, seconds away from begging joel to stop and to just fuck you already. but you could see it in his eyes that he wanted this, that he was enjoying this, so you let him have it, and you admired the growing bulge in his jeans.

soon the popsicle was nothing but a puddle mixed into your skin, and joel tossed the stick to the side. “think i need to clean you up now, baby. look at the mess you made,” he said with a tsk, as if you were the one who drew on your chest with the popsicle. you didn’t have it in you to argue, though, especially when joel bent down and took your sensitive nipple in his mouth.

the contrast of the cold popsicle juice with joel’s warm mouth had you groaning, and you slumped against the garage wall as joel traced the popsicle trail with his tongue across your chest. he would pause here and there to place open mouthed kisses along your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d have some small bruises littering your skin. you liked wearing them though, liked having the reminder than joel had marked you as his. because you were, undoubtedly.

“joel, baby, please,” you whimpered, not fully understanding what you were asking for, but joel thought you were begging so beautifully. he wanted to hear you plead his name for the rest of his life. he pulled your nipple in his mouth, tweaking it with his teeth. a sharp pain flitted through your body, only lasting a second, but he did it again, and again, and soon you were panting.

“please, what?” joel mocked, grinning against your skin as he moved to squeeze your breast with his rough hands. “this not enough for ya?” satisfied that he cleaned up the mess the popsicle had made, he trailed his mouth up to your neck and across your jaw before pausing right in front of your face. his breath was warm as it fanned across your face, and you leaned in to kiss him but he pulled away, a teasing grin on his face.

“no,” you whined, moving your hands down the waist of his jeans. he let your fingers fumble with the button before he unbuttoned his pants himself, yanking the zipper down. your hand went inside his boxers immediately, and joel let out a curse as your fingers wrapped around the hard length of this cock. just the feeling of it in your hand had you moaning, and you slid your hand along his shaft the best you could in your position.

“‘course it ain’t enough for you. your needy little cunt needs more, yeah? needs my cock in it to stretch it out?” his hips moved in rhythm with your hand, his hand resting against the freezer top in a fist. his eyes fell shut as you pumped along his cock, and you bit down on your bottom lip as you watched him. you loved seeing him like this, because it made you feel powerful. like you were the only person who could bring joel pleasure like this.

with a growl, joel’s hands suddenly moved to your shorts, where he unbuttoned them with swiftness and yanked them down. you lifted your hips, helping him get the material past your thighs, and they fell to the garage floor. “feet up, baby.” joel tapped your thigh gently, and you removed your hand from his boxers, lifting your legs up and bending your knees to rest your feet on the edge of the freezer.

you wanted to blame the wet feeling between your legs on the humid air gathering inside the garage, but you would’ve been a damn liar. you could feel yourself soaking through the material of your bikini bottoms, and you knew the moment joel was able to see it because he let out a string of curses. he brought his hand to the material, running his fingers gently down the seam, and you both moaned.

“jesus christ, honey. have you been wet like this for me the entire time?” his southern accent was starting to show more, as it did when he got excited. he ran his fingers along the seam once more before pushing the flimsy material to the side and running his finger through your wet folds, and he groaned at feeling how wet you were before sliding one of his fingers inside of you.

“oh, yes, joel. please, fuck me, please,” you whimpered, your hips rocking against the freezer in tandem with his finger as he pumped it inside of you. if you were more cognizant, you would’ve probably been embarrassed by the noise that was coming from between your legs, but you were too lost in the pleasure, especially when joel moved his thumb up to glide against your clit.

“you are askin’ nicely, baby,” he said, mostly to himself as he watched his finger push inside of you, watched the wetness that coated it with every pump. he was obsessed with the way you were clenching around him, and he could hardly wait himself to feel that movement against his dick. “yeah, i think i will fuck ya.”

with one last push, he pulled his finger out from inside you, and laughed when he heard you whine about the loss. “‘s okay, honey. promise i’m gonna fill that little pussy up with my cock real soon, okay?” he made quick work of letting his jeans hit the floor, soon followed by his boxers. his throbbing cock sprung free from his underwear, and you couldn’t help but trail your hand down to your core, pushing your bottoms to the side and slipping your fingers through your wetness at the sight of him. he let out a low groan before spitting in his hand, bringing it to the tip of his cock and slowly palming it while he watched you swirl your fingers against your clit.

“here baby, make sure ‘m nice and wet for that pussy,” joel muttered, stepping closer to your body as held the underside of his cock in his hand, still pumping it up and down slightly. you ran your fingers through your folds once more, gathering the wetness that had started to spread down your thighs, and reached out to wrap your fingers around his tip. soon, the head of his cock was shining from both his spit and your juices.

joel moved his left hand to settle on your waist, tilting his thumb down just enough to pull the material of your bikini to the side. his other hand continued to work his shaft as he moved even closer, his knees hitting against the side of the freezer. his eyes were solely focused on your exposed pussy, but you were watching his face, wanting to see his expression when he put it in for the first time.

“god, you’re so pretty down here. think i’m the luckiest man in texas, baby.” joel said, a smirk settled on his lips as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds, your mouth dropping open in a sigh as you felt it slide against your clit. joel moved to grip the hem of his t-shirt, and he lifted it to his mouth, holding it between his teeth. you took in the sight of his tan and toned body, and then his eyes snapped up to meet yours as he pushed the head into your wet hole, the both of you taking in each other’s reaction.

you fought the urge to close your eyes, the feeling of his big cock stretching you out was almost too much for you. your nose scrunched up slightly, and a louder moan came from your throat. for the first time that night, you were glad tommy had spent two hours shopping for fireworks, as the sound of the explosives and festivities drowned out your cries. joel bit down on his bottom lip as he continued to push himself inside of you, mentally focusing on not coming right then and there.

he paused when he was fully seated inside of you, taking a moment to catch his breath as the two of you were both panting in the heated garage. you noticed joel’s forehead had become slick with sweat, and you gently brushed back the dark hair that had fallen forward. your hand slipped down to rest on his cheek, and he pressed a kiss into the middle of your palm before he started moving his hips.

“fuck, joel,” you whimpered, your foot slipping from it’s hold on the edge of the freezer. joel moved his right hand to grip your thigh, spreading you open before him once more. his nails dug little half-moon imprints in the fat of your thigh, and the angle allowed you to take him a little deeper than before.

“that’s what i’m doin’ honey,” his words were slightly muffled from the t-shirt in his mouth, but you could see the grin from his teasing, letting out a sharp laugh before it turned into a groan. he moved to pull his cock out, and you almost cried at the loss, your hips moving on their own accord to follow his length. his grip on your waist tightened, keeping you still, until he barely had the head of his cock inside. he thrusted forward again, much quicker this time, and this time your eyes did screw shut at the feeling of is cock filling you up so completely.

your hands rested on his shoulders, gripping him so hard that you were basically anchoring yourself to him. “so deep, joel… so good,” you praised, your head rolling back on your neck as joel continued to fuck you at a thourough pace. the t-shirt fell from his mouth as he started to moan. his knees banged against the freezer, the freezer banged against the wall, and the fireworks outside masqued both the sounds. curses and praises fell from joel’s mouth - “fuckin’ hell, baby. your pussy gets tighter every damn time i fuck you, huh? you’re doin’ so good, honey, takin’ my cock like a good girl” - and you were feeling so hot, so full. joel was nearly fucking you into oblivion with how muddled your thoughts were.

the sound of his skin slapping against your wet skin was all you could focus on, a noise you would’ve been more embarrassed by if it weren’t a testament of how turned on joel made you. each stroke of his cock had you whimpering, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. you moved a hand down to your pussy, moving your fingers against your clit and brushing up against his length every time he thrusted inside of you. the action not only made heat pool to your stomach, but it made joel groan. “that’s it baby, play with that little clit of yours. gonna make yourself come on my cock tonight? gonna let me fill this pussy up with my cum?”

“oh my god, joel, please - right there,” you sobbed, your inner thighs shaking slightly as the feelings became too much to handle. joel picked up on how close you were to coming with how tightly your pussy was clenching around him, and he continued to thrust his hips against yours, the wet noises coming from between your legs made his head feel light.

small, breathy pants fell from your mouth as you moved your fingers faster against your clit, and distantly you could hear joel encouraging you to let go - “that’s it, honey. you’re takin’ my cock so well, let me make you feel good baby.” - and as joel leaned forward to place a kiss on your damp forehead, you felt yourself burst. a loud cry came from your lips as your body went rigid, little white stars showing up behind your eyelids as pleasure coursed through every vein in your body.

“oh, fuck, baby,” joel groaned out, his grip on your body becoming impossibly tight as his hips thrust into you, his movements faltering slightly. the feeling of your pussy clenching around his length while you came was what sent him over, and he ground his hips against yours as he came. you could feel his cock throbbing, the warmth from his seed filling you up as joel tilted his head back and moaned. you watched him through hooded eyes, struggling to catch your breath, but the sight of joel coming was almost enough to help you come again.

he kept his cock inside you as you both came down from your orgasms, and it moved inside you a little when he leaned forward again, making you whimper. “sorry, baby,” joel said softly, slowly pulling himself out while pressing his lips against yours. you eagerly kissed him back, moving a hand to rest on the back of his neck while he deepened the kiss. you felt unbelievably wet, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“your cum is running down my thigh, miller.” you said against his lips, causing the older man to laugh. he pulled away enough to take in the mess that was leaking out of your pussy, and then he did something that shocked you - he gathered up the slick with two of his fingers before pushing it back inside of you. your nails dug into his skin as his fingers entered your sore pussy, moaning softly as he watched himself intensely.

his gaze moved back to your eyes, where he gave you a wicked grin before leaning in to kiss you again. you sighed against his mouth, your body relaxing on the freezer before the two of you started to clean yourselves up. joel went into the house to grab a washcloth and a spare t-shirt for you, considering your chest was stained red and covered in little hickeys. he gently cleaned the mess from between your legs, then himself, and helped you pull your shorts back on. you had him help tie your bikini top again, his fingers coasting against your skin. he gave the back of your neck a quick kiss before turning you around and putting his t-shirt over you.

“there. now those pervs outside can’t catch a glimpse of ya,” he said, seeming satisfied with himself as he yanked up his pants. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes - his cum was literally dripping out of your pussy and yet he was acting jealous.

“oh? you mean pervs like you?” you teased, laughing as he swatted away your fingers that were trying to poke him. you thought you heard him mutter something in agreement, but a particularly loud firework went off at the same moment, so you were clueless. you figured that they were on the finale with how frequent and how loud the next few fireworks were, so you gave joel one last kiss before sneaking out the door, which you thankfully noticed was locked.

as you made your way to the grass, you mentally ran a checklist. you remembered to put your shorts back on, along with your top and a t-shirt. you remembered to clean off the freezer top with one of the towels joel kept in the garage, and you remembered to let your hair down to cover a hickey on the side of your neck. you remembered to go out the garage door, while joel went out through the living room, as he told tommy he was going in to get medicine for a headache. you felt like the two of you had covered all the bases as you sat down on the grass near sarah.

“hey, where are our popsicles?”

oh, fuck.

2K notes · View notes

bountycancelled · 5 months

Text

something more than friends

(lucy gray baird x reader)

tip me on kofi if you feel so inclined

requested: yep, I hope you like it anon♡

content: a little bit of angst but mainly fluff, men (derogatory), kinda lovesick!lucy gray, jealous lucy gray (we love to see it), pretty intense description of kissing but no smut.

warnings: a very brief mention of drinking, internalised homophobia but it doesn't last long, gay stuff (duh), lowercase intended I know boo I'm annoying.

a/n: I haven't read the book yet so idk much about the covey so their appearance may ooc but that's solely due to my lack of knowledge on them

lucy gray baird never faltered when she sang.

there were very few things that could get under her skin when she was on that stage, strumming her guitar and twirling in her skirt as the district folk stomped along to the beat.

sure, sometimes drunkards and the occasional hung up ex would try to cause a scene, attempting to gain her attention from below, but she would simply roll her eyes, waiting for someone to take care of them so that she could go back to doing what she did best. performing.

so what exactly had happened to make the lucy gray baird, forget a line in a song?

she was quick to remedy her mistake, carrying the tune in such a way that most patrons didn't even notice her mess up. but ironically enough, the very cause of her brain fog noticed. you.

you gave her a worried look, but she brushed it off, willing herself to continue playing as if nothing was wrong. and technically, nothing was wrong. you were there, in the far back of the crowd, wearing a white dress with a drink in your hand. and Lucy Gray didn't mean to be cliché, but you really did look like an angel, something divine that she had the honour of setting her eyes on.

but obviously, she wasn't the only one who thought that.

you were speaking to some man. which was fine, you were always the most gorgeous girl in the room in her eyes and she knew that she wasn't the only one who appreciated your beauty, you were always needing to awkwardly laugh at men's advances and brush them off as best as you could, but you weren't doing that tonight.

you were laughing, a genuine laugh, leaning in to hear his voice over the music, over her singing. she wanted to jump off of the stage and break her guitar over that assholes face, and she couldn't explain why.

she had always known that one day, you'd settle down with a kind man who cared for you (not nearly as much as she did, but that was okay) and then she would see you less and less. but knowing didn't make the taste in her mouth any more bitter.

the first time you told her about a crush that you had, on a boy named Tom, she spent the whole night convincing you that he just wasn't right for you. you believed her of course, rejecting him swiftly the next week when he asked you to go on a walk with him, walking instead with lucy gray, hand in hand.

but then, she did it every time you spoke about a boy, and you started to believe her less and less. 'I think you're just jealous lucy gray, and you don't anybody taking my attention away from you.'

you were right, she was jealous, and the thought of you, with a man, it disgusted her to her core. which is why she took off as soon as her set ended, not even staying for the applause as she searched for you outside.

there you were, and thankfully, you were alone, no undeserving man in sight.

she ran up to you, her brown eyes seemingly sparkling even in the darkened night. "how'd you enjoy the show, darlin'?"

her heart jumped when you smiled at her, your eyes crinkling in joy as you took both of her hand in yours, squeezing them affectionately. "you have the voice of an angel, lucy gray. and I envy the lucky fella who's gonna marry you, and have to serenade them whenever they want."

lucy gray rolled her eyes in a good natured fashion, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach when you mentioned her getting married. "I already serenade you, sweet thing. and im not gonna let some wedding band stop me."

you laughed airily, leading her by the hand towards the lake, where you spent most nights together. you sat down at the edge, laying your head in her lap when she sat beside you. her hand went to your hair, and she fought the urge to by giddy at the sight of your head in her lap, you were just... perfect.

"who was that guy that you were talking to back then? when I was singing, I mean." she asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

you thought back to about an hour prior, picturing every person that you had been with throughout the evening as you tried to recall who she was asking about in particular. "oh! that was matthew, his dad and my dad go way back, but the two of us never really shared their closeness for whatever reason. but after speaking to him tonight I'm a bit upset that I never tried to grow a friendship with him earlier."

she nodded, her cherry glossed lips pressing into a thin line. "he doesn't just wanna be friends with you though, I could see it." you scoffed playfully, raising a brow at her curiously. "you were all the way up on stage, in the middle of your favourite song to perform, and somehow, you could tell that much from so far away?"

she opened her mouth to defend herself, but after realising just how insane the notion sounded when you phrased it in that way, she quickly closed it again. "I'm not gonna let any man take me away from you, lucy gray, believe me when I say that I can't live without you."

your words sent a fury of butterflies in her stomach, and she swore that felt dizzy as you picked your head up, moving your face so close to hers that your noses were almost touching. she wanted to kiss you. god, what the hell was wrong with her? how could she be thinking of you in this way?

despite her inner conflict, she made no moves to create some distance between your faces, selfishly wanting to stay like this for as long as you'd let her. "I wish we could get married." she sighed, her eyes widening at her own words. "I meant- not like, I didn't mean- not in, like, a husband and wife typa way-"

you cut her off with trying to, with a tilt of your head making her suck in a sharp breath. "you don't wanna do husband and wife things with me?" you asked, and she could swear that your voice had a certain tone about it, one that made her cheeks feel blazing and her breaths shallow.

she shook her head, her usually fierce tone reduced to a meek almost whisper. "we can't do those stuff together."

you were too close for comfort. she could feel the tip of your nose against hers and if you leaned in any further, she was sure that she would combust. "who cares if we can't? the more important question is, do you want to?"

inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. she had forgotten how to breath. this wasn't right, she knew that, so why were her lips on yours in a flash, her hands in your hair, around your waist, holding your hands, touching any part of you that she could reach as the two of you kissed? in public, no less?

she couldn't find it in her mind to stop, not when your soft, sweet lips moved in tandem with hers as if you were molded to fit each other. when you pulled away, with lucy gray chasing your lips with an involuntary whine, you held her by the shoulders, a look of concern on your face.

that was when she felt it. the guilt knawing at her stomach, and the tears thar flowed down her face. was she crying because of how overwhelming her feelings were for you? maybe it was because she knew that you would have to hide... whatever had just happened between the two of you.

you leaned your forehead against hers, you sweet voice easing her fear. "I love you." she nodded, not being able to say it back just yet, but she could only hope that you knew. she moved to kiss you again, being startled out of her mind by a girlish scream in the distance.

it was maude ivory, eyes wide and hand slapped over her mouth in shock, with an equally suprised tam amber standing next to her. lucy gray felt sick to her stomach.

"I knew it." tam Amber said with a shrug, moving to sit next to the two fo you as she stared out at the moonlit lake. "no one looks at their friend like how lucy gray looks at you."

"can I be the flower girl? and the maid of honour? and the priest?" maude ivory rambled, laying half in lucy grays lap and half in yours. you simply laughed, explaining that her dream wasn't exactly possible but flower girl was certainly doable as lucy gray watched, tears threatening to fall from her eyes once again. only this time, they were of relief.

the joy she felt in her chest, at the thought that you could be... together in front of the covey was the best gift she could possibly be given. you and her, together. not just as best friends. although it was hard to wrap her head around it, she knew that it was exactly what she wanted and she had it on good authority that you wanted it too.

#tbosas #the hunger games #lucy gray fluff #lucy gray x reader #lucy gray baird #lucy gray my beloved #lucy gray angst #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games headcanon #tbosas x reader #tbosas x you #wlw #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray baird x you #coriolanus x reader

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tofixtheshadows · 14 days

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Hello, op! While I do find your reading of Kabru’s self sacrifice and how little he eats really good, im curious why you consider him the deuteragonist? He is a foil to the protagonist yes, but still a supporting character.

I think its pretty clear Marcille is the second most important character in DM, and her story has much more weight than Kabru’s.

Hello! I've mentioned this on my blog before, but I actually consider Marcille and Kabru to both be deuteragonists to Laios's protagonist. I just wasn't talking about Marcille in that post.

Technically this term is meant to be used in playwriting, and the Greek tradition at that, so I'm playing a little loosey goosey with semantics and my argument would sound different if I were writing an academic paper. But this is tumblr dot edu and I'm trying to get a point across on my little blog, and part of the idea of a deuteragonist is that they support the protagonist. "Secondary main character who has their own importance in the narrative while bolstering the protagonist" works well enough for my purposes.

I think Marcille and Kabru are both playing specific and complementary roles to Laios. Marcille is at his side, facilitating the A plot: namely, "save Falin", which requires Marcille's magic, and then Marcille's method of resurrection ropes Thistle in, so the continuation of "save Falin" necessitates confronting the Dungeon Lord and conquering the dungeon (the B plot).

Kabru only intersects with Laios, but he is tied from the beginning to the B plot- and with dragging basically everyone else into it. Actually, the fact that he brings in this extremely loaded B plot despite only having brief face time with the protagonist should be seen as significant. In a sense, Kabru represents the surface world and all its concerns.

Before I talk about that more, I want to continue with the complementary line of thinking and point out that Kabru and Marcille have very similar background motivations.

Laios wants to save his sister first and foremost, and it's only along the way that he starts to consider what he'd do with the responsibility of Dungeon Lord. Coming to the conclusion that he wants to create a home for disparate peoples to live in harmony has connective tissue to both Kabru and Marcille's desires.

Marcille is the only one in their party who starts out with a greater motivation other than saving Falin (Izutsumi is a special case, but she's ultimately along for the ride), one that she keeps hidden for a long time. Because she is a mage, and because she is driven by a very personal tragedy (my dad died; I am terrified of outliving everyone), she is looking for a miracle to bring the different races closer together.

Kabru comes from a background of personal tragedy as well, but it's also a far greater, more political tragedy than just the death of a parent. It is not a coincidence that Kabru is a brown boy from an exploited region that suffered despite and because of military intervention from a first-world power, nor that he was adopted by a white woman whose coddling/dehumanization of him represents the paternalistic oversight of these world powers.

Thus, Kabru's motivations are both personal and political: if they, the short-lived races, can finally access the secrets of the dungeons, then not only can they have agency in stopping tragedies like Utaya's, but it will also give them a greater power of self-determination.

Marcille and Kabru have both correctly identified and set themselves against a problem that is greater than saving the life of one girl, greater even than sealing this one dungeon.

Despite Marcille's hopes, there is no grand magic solution to this. Only small, slow, backbreaking, ordinary solutions, the kind you labor over in kitchens and bedrooms and throne rooms and meeting houses and hearths and negotiation tables. The kind you run a kingdom with.

There is a reason why Dungeon Meshi ends with Marcille and Kabru on either side of Laios's throne.

Okay: back to Kabru (under the cut).

I've talked about this a little before, but I'll reiterate here: I consider Kabru to be the counterweight to the back half of the story. In a very literal sense too, as he pulls the focus up from the depths to the surface not once, but twice. Dungeon Meshi builds itself on the premise that the traditional "dungeon" must function as an actual ecosystem, and the monsters in it are biological actors in that ecosystem and not merely magical obstacles independent of their environment. The first couple dozen chapters are focused on this. Like regular animals, monsters have needs and instincts and unique behaviors, and they can be killed and consumed as part of a food chain.

And then Kabru comes along and he reminds us that humans are also part of their own special ecosystem, with their own needs and instincts and unique behaviors, and that beyond the biological drive of the literal food chain there are also complex social issues influencing these behaviors (like capitalism). Tansu's visit with the governor introduced us to these ideas, but Kabru is the one who carries them.

The way he and his party break down Laios's party also serves an important function. I think most readers are so busy being shocked that Kabru is "so wrong" about our goofy boy Laios that they don't realize that he isn't actually wrong about anything (he's only missing the context of what drives Laios, which he admits to and is part of the reason why he pursues him). We've gotten only Laios's view of things so far, and Laios is pretty tunnel-visioned. The narrative, through Kabru, is telling the reader this is how our protagonist actually comes across to his community.

We like Laios because we are following his story from his inner circle. We know he's naive and struggles with people but that he has a good heart and is ultimately just a big silly guy who won't harm anybody if he can help it. But we only know that because we're seeing him with his inner circle, in his environment. Outside of the dungeon, Laios is anti-social to the point of rudeness; he misreads situations and misjudges people, he acts in ways that cause friction, and he accidentally aligns himself with people who make his whole enterprise look suspicious: a prominent half-foot community leader, a mysterious foreigner literally surrounded by spies, the disgraced daughter of a criminal who now has to shoulder the burden of her father's reputation, and an elf in a land where there are no elves. And they seem to be very good at what they're doing. Yet this whole time, Laios acts as if he doesn't care about profit or taking the kingdom, the only logical reasons why anyone on the Island would gather up such a party and throw themselves into this death pit day after day.

Yeah of course Kabru finds this suspicious and interesting. Of course people don't know what to make of Laios. This all reiterates the question that Zon the orc already raised: What will you do, Laios, if you defeat the Mad Mage? If you gain control of all of this? Can you be a leader? Laios himself doesn't know yet.

This is all necessary context for our protagonist and the journey he has to go on, and it's fittingly brought up by the most socially adept character, who is so concerned with human ecosystems and the bigger picture of the dungeon. There is a reason why Kabru, as a character, is connected to large webs of people as he moves throughout the narrative: his own party, Toshiro's party, the Canaries, the denizens of the first floor of the dungeon.

Kabru is responsible for bringing Toshiro down to Laios's party. Toshiro is not a big mover and shaker in the story itself, but his confrontation with Laios is a huge part of Laios's character arc. His detour down to the lower levels also allows Izutsumi to escape and join Laios's party later.

We also have this very important moment:

It shows the first inkling- to the audience, to Kabru, and to Laios himself- that Laios is willing to do a painful, necessary thing to protect other people, that he won't just allow them to become collateral for his sister/monsters. That he can listen, and that he can assess a situation beyond his personal feelings. Again, fittingly, big-picture-thinker Kabru is the catalyst for this.

And then, not content to leave him as merely a device for Laios's character growth, the focus slingshots back up to the surface, and we follow Kabru.

The Canaries were going to go into the dungeon soon anyway, and they were always going to stir up the crowd in order to lure Thistle to them. Unless Thistle had given up right then and managed to slip away, the story could have very easily ended here:

Falin, immobilized and surrounded by Canaries, would have certainly been killed, and there would have been no way to ever resurrect her. Thistle would have been neutralized. The dungeon would have been taken by the elves, and anyone they could get their hands on would have been imprisoned at best. And maybe the dungeon would have been managed safely ... or maybe something would have gone wrong, and more lives would have been lost. Remember: the Canaries arrived in Utaya one year before the tragedy.

This is a huge moment that changes Laios's life forever, and he doesn't even know it. Kabru single-handedly keeps the story on course by sabotaging the Canaries, and he does it not just for Laios's sake, but for everyone's sake. For his friends and companions in the dungeon and everyone else outside it. Laios is a part of his motivation, a key player in Kabru's hopes, but Kabru has his own desires, his own agenda. He's trying to change the world. In a way, he succeeds. And while the Canaries might wish it were otherwise, as an entity in the narrative they are always anchored to Kabru's character. The two forces collide because of Kabru. The unsealing of the Winged Lion and Marcille's emergency ascension to Dungeon Lord happen indirectly because of Kabru.

While I have talked so much already that I don't want to give a detailed breakdown of it, I do want to mention Kabru's unique interiority as a character. That is to say: we see the inside of Kabru's head more than anyone else. Every character in the main ensemble gets their own moments of inner monologues or fifteen minutes in the limelight, but for Kabru, it's constant. He's always thinking, talking, narrating. His POV chapters always stand out for how first-person they feel compared to most others.

Notably, the only other character I could compare that to is Marcille, specifically during the dungeon rabbit debacle and her ascension afterward, which is when she really takes center stage as a character.

I hope I've explained my reasoning without becoming too insufferable.

To cap off my thoughts with a nod to my original post, I cannot stress enough how significant it is, thematically, that Kabru's relationship with food is the inverse of Laios's. It isn't just that Laios is the main character in a story about cooking monsters and Kabru happens to be his monster-hating foil. The artistic choice to deny the reader the visual of this character ever enjoying food, and only ever putting it in his mouth in situations where it hurts him, in a manga that gives so much attention to eating and the pleasures of meals, cannot be understated.

#Dungeon Meshi #Marcille Donato #Kabru #Kabru of Utaya #Dungeon Meshi meta #Dungeon Meshi spoilers #I started answering this at 10:30 AM but took several detours #mostly I was at work. some people shitpost at work. god knows what I'm doing.#I am so fucking sorry I did not mean for it to be this long. I had to EDIT THIS DOWN #paging malewifesband I feel like this does the trick wrt: Kabru's function in the narrative #of course I have more to say about he and Laios specifically (she threatened)#musings with Dea #I think I'll go back and add image descriptions but it's been eight hours and I need dinner!#and also to play FFXIV #dungeonposting #Dea's anonymous friends

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justsomerandomfanfic · 3 months

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Man's Best Friend - Daryl Dixon X Fem Reader

Title: Man's Best Friend

Daryl Dixon X Fem Reader

Additional Characters: Dog

Requested By: Anon!

WC: 1,700

Warnings: Mentions of walkers/zombies, Reader is afraid of dogs, teasing, banter, flirting, nicknames, soft Daryl, soft Dog lol, very brief mentions of anxiety attacks, mini angst, and fluff

Ever since you were a young child, way before the apocalypse broke out, you had always been afraid of dogs. Big or small, they all scared you. You didn't know exactly why you were afraid of them, maybe because you weren't really used to being near them as a kid, or even as an adult. Or maybe it was because a large Golden Retriever had once jumped up into your stroller when you were little, or at least, that was what your mother had told you had happened. You had no memory of it, nor when you started actually fearing man's best friend.

Now, being afraid of them didn't technically mean that you hated them. Quite the contrary, you adored all animals, dogs included. You liked looking at them, petting them if you dared to do so and trusted or knew the owner. It all depended on the situation and, or course, the dog.

But it was difficult growing up. All around your neighborhood, a lot of people owned dogs. And though they were behind large fences most of the time, that didn't stop you from flinching every time they ran up to the fence, jumped, or barked - anything they did really, scared and stressed you out.

You wished that you could not be afraid of them. You wished that you could be like others and see a dog without feeling the overwhelming and searing anxiety that coursed through your viens; chilling you to the bone as your eyes widened and your throat tightened - your whole body becoming frozen in fear.

Now, in the apocalypse, there weren't many animals, but you knew you'd eventually have a run-in with a dog at some point. They were smart and resilient creatures, that could easily outrun a walker or two. And you did. After traveling with Daryl for years, switching from group to group, losing loved ones and friends… You met Dog. Such a fitting name...

Dog was very cute, you'd give him that. He was a big, fluffy, soft-looking dog. He was seemingly friendly around the people he liked and was pretty vicious when attacking those trying to hurt the group or Daryl for that matter.

For the months that Daryl had Dog, you had never pet him, or much if anything. You tried to stay as far away from him as possible when you could. But it was kind of hard when he was so close to Daryl. Thankfully, Daryl being the sweetest boyfriend in the world - and not wanting dog hair in the bed - wouldn't let Dog sleep in your shared bed. So that was nice.

You did care for the dog though. You thought he was cute when he stared up at Daryl with those puppy eyes, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, panting slightly. He was cute.

You'd even talk to him sometimes, using a baby-like voice when doing so if you pleased. You loved how happy he seemed to get, wagging his tail.

Daryl on the other hand, noticed your apparent discomfort around Dog a long while ago - though it had lessened a bit over the years. It was still a bit obvious. He'd see you flinch if Dog came running up to see you to greet you or when you heard Dog bark.

So he did his best to help you, often going on supply runs with you on one side of him and Dog on the other; blocking you from each other. He'd distract Dog with food or a random toy - stick, rag, rope, etcetera - so he could spend a bit more time with you. And he'd lock Dog out of the bedroom, making sure to set up a bed for him somewhere else in the home, so that you could have a worry-free sleep.

Though he knew of your fear of dogs, he wanted to make sure you knew that Dog would never harm you.

Laying on the couch, Dog laid on top of Daryl as the man brushed his hand through his thick fur. Dog laid happily, content at the affection and attention, and so was Daryl, but he was missing you.

And you were only a couple of feet away.

Sitting on a chair, you quietly read a book, legs up on the red, plush cushion as you usually did in the presence of Dog. Subconsciously, you always pulled your legs up in front of the animal, your brain worried that, even though you knew Dog wouldn't do such a thing, that Dog wouldn't attack or jump up on you.

Daryl watched as you read, unable to break his gaze away from you. Your face looked peaceful as your fingers lightly traced the pages of the book as you read, a content smile playing on your lips as you did so. He felt something tug at his heart as he admired you, the light from the window behind you illuminating your face softly. His eyes followed your form as you shuffled in your seat in the armchair, gently pushing your hair back behind your ears with the movement.

You were still reading, oblivious to Daryl's gaze. As said before, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. You looked stunning in your simple band t-shirt and pj bottoms, your face clean of dirt and grime, freckles dusting your cheekbones as you licked your lips with the tip of your tongue. Your eyes were soft as they moved across the page, narrowing slightly when you turned to the next, brows furrowing as you continued. Must have been a good book, Daryl had thought.

"You're staring, D," Your voice interrupted his thoughts as you put your book down on your lap and shifted your position, stretching your arms above your head. Daryl averted his gaze, cheeks flushing a bit as you looked over at him. "What is it?"

Daryl grumbled slightly, turning his gaze to Dog, rubbing the dog's head, "Nothin', jus'... Ya look nice today." He answered softly, albeit a bit gruffly.

Your smile grew, your cheeks warming, "Daryl..." You trailed off with a sigh, "You're too sweet." The hunter flushed again, ducking his head to hide his face with his hair. "You look handsome today too." You added, making Daryl huff, shaking his head. Biting your lip briefly, you moved your thumb in your book to mark your page as you closed it; giving the man all of your attention. "I mean it. You are."

Looking up, Daryl was surprised to find you gazing at him. You flushed lightly under his gaze and his breath caught in his throat as your eyes locked with his brown ones. You were gorgeous. He realized he was just staring, and quickly cleared his throat, "Uh… Thanks, Y/N." You smiled and nodded in response, though it faltered when your eyes glanced over at Dog. Daryl noticed this, seeing how your eyes softened, a certain longing in them as you watched him continue to pet Dog. “Do ya… Wanna pet him?” He then asked, making you blink rapidly.

You cleared your throat, looking back down at your book, “You know I do… I’m just-”

“Scared?” Daryl finished for you, watching as you shifted in your seat again, “He ain’t gonna hurt ya. Ya know that.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip, “I know. Just nervous, cause well, he’s a big dog…”

Standing up, Daryl grunted slightly as he did so. Dog stayed put on the couch, watching as Daryl walked over to your chair. You looked up at him as he offered you his hand, which you glanced at briefly. “C’mon,” He said softly, a very, very small smile on his face. You gulped, taking his hand, your legs feeling a bit numb as he helped you stand. You felt your heart begin to race as he led you to the couch, your eyes unable to stray from Dog’s. “Yer fine,” You heard Daryl say, voice gruff at how low he was speaking, “Ya know him, he’s a good boy.”

At that, you scoffed out a laugh, seeing Dog’s tail wagging with great speed as he looked up at you. “That’s gotta be the funniest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

Darly’s small grin widened slightly as he saw your shoulders drop, and your breathing normalized. Daryl stopped before Dog, an arm’s reach away, the dog in question staring up at you with those large puppy dog eyes.

“Alrigh’, reach yer hand out, let him sniff ya.” Daryl spoke, squeezing your hand as you hesitantly raised your free one. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

You held your breath, watching as Dog leaned forward and sniffed your hand, the warmth of his breath fanning over your hand. You quickly shut your eyes at the feeling, turning to nudge your face into Daryl’s shoulder. Your mind began to race with all sorts of different, terrible scenarios, your heart hammering in your chest; breath shallow.

Until, you felt soft fur.

You opened your eyes slowly, turning your head to watch as Dog rubbed his head under your hand, his tail wagging at high speeds. You blinked, pushing your head off of Daryl’s shoulder as you watched Dog. You felt a huge wave of relief flow over you, making you smile. With your own volition, you moved your hand, petting Dog’s head softly. He turned into your touch almost instantly, letting out a tiny sound as he pressed against your hand. He licked your fingers gently before licking your palm.

Your heart ached at how happy this dog made you feel. You didn’t understand it yourself; it wasn’t something you experienced often. It was as if, in that moment, all the stress you were carrying disappeared. The fear and anxiety that had been plaguing you disappeared with him. You could barely breathe as your stomach fluttered.

Leaning your head back on Daryl's shoulder, you sighed as you continued to pet Dog. "Thank you, D." You muttered happily.

He nodded his head, lightly squeezing your hand in his, "Knew ya could do it, sweetheart."

You smiled again. You could feel your cheeks growing warm, Dog whined softly from where he was now snuggled up against your hand; wanting more attention.

---

Main Masterlist | Misc. Masterlist

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 • alpha!eddie munson x reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 • eddie's chances of being an alpha are quite small. your chances of presenting as an omega, especially while still in high school, are almost none. almost.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 • 10k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 • SMUT (18+ only, technically dubcon due to heat, omegaverse, unprotected sex), knotting, possessiveness and protectiveness, mentions of pregnancy/slight breeding kink, size kink (alpha!eddie is Large in every way), brief trypanophobia warning, mentions of/implied deceased parent (not reader's they're fine),

“The official term is enhanced sexual dimorphism, sometimes abbreviated as ‘ESD’,” Mrs. Mittelman explained, “but, you’re probably all more familiar with the names for the two enhanced sexes: Alpha, and omega.”

You sighed as you rested your chin on your fist. Health class was always boring, and awkward. Most of all, it didn’t seem very useful. In all of Hawkins, you knew of six omegas and eleven Alphas. Why did the curriculum need to dedicate a whole month to this when you, and everyone you knew, were going to end up not presenting at all and just be betas?

“Due to modern fertility advancements, these sexes are becoming more and more rare,” she continued to explain. “Alphas and omegas, when in a mated pair, are significantly more fertile than a beta pair. However, times are changing: after all, I think all of you have beta parents, don’t you?”

You didn’t even know anyone had raised their hand, until Mrs. Mittelman pointed behind you to someone in the back.

“Yes?” she prompted, and you turned around. You were pretty sure his name was… Freddie? No, wait— Eddie. You’d seen him around, and he was sort of hard to forget with his… ostentatious styling, but you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him talk in class before.

“Uh, actually,” he cleared his throat, “my mom was an omega.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Mittelman nodded, looking a little wide-eyed. “I didn’t realize that. Well, then maybe some of what we’re talking about today will be more familiar to you. I hope you’ll bear with us.”

Was. There’s no going back after presenting, of course, so she must not be around anymore. You saw him look down, and wondered if he regretted bringing it up at all, before you returned your focus to the board where the teacher was pointing to some particularly uninteresting charts.

“The window of development for Alphas and omegas is actually very narrow: about ninety percent of enhanced sexual presentations take place at age twenty-one,” she continued. “The odds of presenting after age twenty-two are so astronomically low, that anyone who turns twenty-three without presenting is immediately registered as a beta. Can anyone remember from this week’s assigned reading—”

Everyone groaned, realizing she was about to spring a pop quiz on the class.

“— what an individual’s odds are of presentation if their parents are an Alpha and an omega?”

A girl in the front row raised her hand, and the teacher pointed to her. “Um, eighty-two percent?”

“Correct!” Mrs. Mittelman smiled. “Okay, what about the odds of presentation if one’s parents were one Alpha and one beta?”

The boy that sat next to you on the right— James Richey, which you wouldn’t know if you hadn’t been paired with him on far too many assignments— raised his hand. “Forty-five percent,” he answered.

“Ohh, a little lower,” she winced with her gentle correction, “anyone else wanna give that a try?”

Intimidated by James’ folly, it took an awkward pause for someone else to take a guess. It was your closest friend in class, and likely in the whole school, Helen. “Thirty?” she proposed.

“Well, twenty-nine, but yes,” Mrs. Mittelman. “What about if the pair is one beta and one omega? Mr. Munson, you should know this one— since it applies to you.”

The whole class turned back to look at Eddie, who was awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “You see,” he began, “I agree with you that I should know that but, uh, I didn’t exactly… read the chapter.”

Mrs. Mittelman sighed slowly. “Right, um, well… maybe someone else who did can tell us?”

“Twelve percent,” somebody behind you, from the other side, announced, and the teacher smiled.

“Yes! That’s right,” she replied. “Okay, last one: how likely is one to present if their parents are both betas?”

You raised your hand, because this one was the easiest to remember. When you were called on, you answered: “The odds are less than one percent.”

“Yes, good job,” she smiled. “Congratulations! You all passed today’s pop quiz. Your prize is… not having a pop quiz tomorrow.”

The bell rang; everyone reached for their backpacks and sighed with relief.

“Tomorrow, we’ll be covering the rest of the chapter, so if you forgot to read it,” she said pointedly, “now’s the time to do so!”

You didn’t know a lot about the guy— hell, you’d forgotten his name— but you figured Eddie Munson was not going to read the chapter, even when given a second chance. You don’t end up on your third senior year by reading the assigned material. I wonder if it bothers him, being twenty years old and still in high school, you wondered, it would sure bother me.

But that was the last time you thought about Eddie Munson for about two weeks. You didn’t plan on thinking about him again until maybe graduation, which you did hope to see him at, but you were forced to wonder about him when he was absent from class for an entire week. Frankly, you were pretty sure he couldn’t afford a vacation. A rumor had spread that he was in jail for dealing marijuana, but that was all you had to work with. Helen thought maybe he was gone for good, moved back in with some other family— you hadn’t even known before this that he lived with his uncle, so maybe his dad was somewhere out there and he was spending time with him.

All the rumors were dispelled in an instant when Eddie returned. As near-impossible as it seemed, it was even more impossible to deny when you saw it for yourself.

You were ten minutes into the midterm exam for Mrs. Mittelman’s health class when the door opened; in a silent room, it was instinctive to look up, but you choked when you saw him come in. It was Eddie, for sure— that hair and Hellfire Club tee were unmistakable— but he was… different.

Completely different.

He was taller, to the point that Mrs. Mittelman was craning her neck to look up at him (though to be fair, she was already pretty short). He was… bigger, specifically more muscular— his body was straining against his clothes, the half-sleeve of his shirt exposed the prominent veins of his forearm, even his ripped jeans struggled to hold him in anymore.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said quietly to the bewildered teacher, and even when he deliberately spoke softly, his voice was clearly deeper. She handed him a blank exam and he attempted to slip through the rows of desks to find his own seat. You certainly weren’t the only pair of eyes following him across the classroom, or the only one noticing the way he struggled to fit back behind his own desk due to his radical change in size. He cleared his throat and shifted in the chair, starting to take his test— and either not noticing, or successfully ignoring, the stares he was receiving.

At the same time, you and Helen looked at each other with wide eyes, and she mouthed something to you: What the fuck?!

Your entire class was specifically prepared to appreciate the anomaly of probability that this was. Still, statistics be damned, it was clear that in the time Eddie Munson had disappeared, he’d become an Alpha.

Three months later…

“Oh come on,” you rolled your eyes, “that’s bull and you know it.”

“I’m not sure if you really believe that that attitude is going to help you in any way,” Principal Higgins frowned, “but to be completely clear: it will not. Three dress code violations add up to an after-school detention.”

“But these are stupid violations!” you insisted. “It’s not like I was walking around in a mini-skirt— look, this one says my sneakers were untied! That’s ridiculous.”

“Arguing with me is considered disrespect of authority,” Higgins reminded you, leaning in closer, “which is also punishable by after-school detention. I’d recommend that you stop now before you end up with two dates with me this week.”

You shut your eyes to stop yourself from rolling them, but relented. That said, you were playing the interaction over and over in your mind as you sat at that desk in detention, arms crossed and lips curled in a sneer as you imagined really telling him off instead of laying down at taking it.

You jumped when the opening of the door startled you out of your fantasy, and there was Eddie— wow, he was even late to detention.

You looked down sheepishly as he crossed the room and took his seat, but once he was settled in front of you and off to the side, you had your first chance to get a good look at him after his… transformation.

It was a good thing his jacket was sleeveless, because it didn’t look like his arms would’ve fit through the sleeves if it had them. It wasn’t that he was just outrageously ripped now or something, or that he was specifically some outrageous height… he was just big. Alphas were built that way. He towered over nearly everyone in school now; he stopped getting bullied immediately after he came back, that must’ve been a nice perk. Still, for a guy who got so massive and so well-known practically overnight (or in this case, overweek), he didn’t seem that… happy?

You looked down into your lap again. Who were you to judge his emotions? You didn’t know anything about him. It was just that, well, he’d had a reputation for his antics and dramatic behavior before, but lately he was uncharacteristically quiet. He never made a scene in the cafeteria anymore, he never talked back to teachers (which he’d apparently done plenty before, you’d seen it once or twice and Helen said it happened near-daily with Ms. O’Donnell), he was just… existing. Maybe he was finally being normal. The only problem with that theory is that, while you didn’t like to buy into stereotypes, you were confident that Eddie Munson would’ve been among the first to become better behaved after presenting as an Alpha.

You weren’t trying to be sexist, really! Alphas were hormonally predisposed to aggression and impulsiveness, it was just a fact of the matter, especially when omegas or other Alphas were involved. To be fair, that wasn’t really an issue in his case, in a school where literally no other students had ESD. Technically, there was one other Alpha here, but he was a teacher… he was not only mated, but mature, and no one was exactly worried that he and Eddie were going to end up brawling on the lawn or something. Alphas were always fighting over unmated omegas anyways, of which there weren’t any in Hawkins.

It made you wonder why Eddie stayed, if he had no chance of finding a true mate here. Alphas and betas didn't get together very often, for reasons that weren’t explained in much detail in your health textbook.

Torn from your thoughts by the Principal clearing his throat and addressing the room, you looked up quickly. “Now,” he began sternly, “all my regulars know I believe in working detention— labor is good for the soul! And there’s lots of work to do on campus today so you three,” he gestured at some boys in the front, “you’re gonna be in the garden out front with our landscapers. And you four in the back, you’re sweeping up the wood shop before you give our gymnasium a good mop.”

The other students stood, and you glanced at Eddie as you realized he was the only other person left sitting.

“Uhh, you two,” Higgins noticed, “you can go clean the cafeteria. But we’re all out of mops, so, just grab some rags.”

“Rags?” Eddie noticed. “We’re cleaning the entire cafeteria floor with rags?”

“Oh, not just the floor. Table and chairs too.”

“Hopefully not in that order,” you breathed.

“Get to it,” he snapped, and Eddie gave you a quick look over his massive, hard shoulder before shrugging— god, his neck just seemed thicker when he did that.

Your eyes still found themselves lingering on the hulking mass of his body as the two of you were on your hands and knees wiping the laminate cafeteria floor.

"So," Eddie broke the silence, "you, uh… I haven't seen you in detention before."

"No," you agreed, "this is actually my first time."

"Oh wow," he smiled, "a detention virgin! Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

You snorted, shaking your head as you looked at the floor again, but the off-color joke made you feel a little strange. You blinked quickly and tried to get the image of Eddie being gentle out of your head.

"What are you in for?" he asked.

"Dress code," you nodded.

"Woah! Something skimpy?"

"Not at all," you chuckled, "just, like, ripped jeans and a visible bra strap? Apparently?"

"Aw, that's a shame," he smirked. "I was thinking I missed you showing up in some sweet little number."

You raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing, mainly because your throat was suddenly a little dry.

"A-anyways," he mumbled, "I'm sorry you're here."

"Ditto," you offered, "but I know you're here kind of a lot."

"Yeah," he sighed, focusing harder on one spot that he rubbed with the rag intensely, "not as much as I used to be, but yeah…"

"Used to be… before…" you pressed.

"Before I… got big, yeah," he nodded.

An interesting way of describing it. Certainly an accurate way.

"Um," he cleared his throat, "I skipped class, that's what they popped me for this time."

"Which class?"

"Shop."

"Oh god, I don't blame you, that's my least favorite class," you hummed.

"Really? People always say they like it cause it's easy," he shrugged, "thought I was the only one that hated it."

"No, it's so annoying!" you assured. "First of all, most people aren't being safe and I'm always on edge thinking somebody's about to lose a finger— and the assignments are so stupid! Building birdhouses and clocks? Like, isn't the whole point of a high school education to be able to get a job so I can afford to just buy a birdhouse for a dollar?"

"I don't mind the part where we build stuff," he admitted, "I just don't like that we have to build it exactly like he says. Why can't there be some room for creativity?"

You nodded in agreement, clearing your throat quietly but not quite getting the catch in it; you were looking at the floor, and noticed that you were seeing spots, but simply tried to blink them away.

"I hate it even more now that I keep accidentally breaking stuff…" he continued, trailing off.

"Accidentally?"

"I'm still getting used to it… I'm stronger, you know."

Was it warm in here all of a sudden? When you first came in, it was a little chilly— normally this room was filled with warm bodies to heat it up, so it was pretty cold when it was empty… or, it had been. Now you were starting to feel your clothes cling to you, face beginning to flush.

"I broke a hammer. Splintered the handle— I guess I was holding it too hard…"

That was when you lost your balance and had to sit on the floor, leaning back against the leg of a table. The orange light of dusk, coming in through the blinds in stripes, was blurry and disorienting. A numb heat started to rush through your body, and the quick shallow breaths that filled your lungs did little to keep you from getting dizzy.

“Hey,” you heard Eddie’s voice— his hand was hesitantly holding your shoulder now, and just that made you soothe slightly. “You okay?”

"I…" you began, but you didn't know what to say. “Eddie,” you said softly, “I don’t… I feel weird.”

His hand moved up to your forehead, and you sighed and shut your eyes to savor every moment of his touch. “Christ, you’re burning up.”

Your hands reached out blindly, grabbing onto his thick thigh through his jeans. You heard him cough slightly. “Something’s wrong, just… just need you to stay with me,” you breathed.

"Um, o-okay," he agreed hesitantly, kneeling in front of you.

It was like a sharp pain— a tightness that twisted inside you— and you hissed in a breath through your teeth as your sneakers slid on the tile.

"Do you need some water?" he wondered, and when his hand cradled your face for a second, you shuddered and relaxed against the table leg behind you.

"No, I just need… I…" you panted. Just touch me more, you thought, though you didn't understand why. Another pang hit your gut and you clutched your stomach, hunching forward with a wince.

"I-I'm gonna get the nurse," he promised, but you suddenly grabbed onto his arms tightly, stopping him from getting up.

"No, don't go," you panted, "don't leave— you can't leave me here, Eddie!"

"Okay, okay! I'm not gonna leave!" he promised, frustrated at first but softening up when he saw how scared you were. "I'm not gonna leave, I swear."

"I don't know what's happening," you whispered under your breath. "God— what's happening to me?"

"You're just…" he began, trailing off, "you're— fuck, I don't know. But I think it's… I don't know how, but I think you might be—"

"Just tell me!" you sobbed.

You were clawing at his jacket, desperate to touch his skin, desperate for anything he would give you. That was when you first felt the heat gather between your legs, a pulse inside you just before a gush of wetness that almost made you worry you were wetting yourself— until you felt it, felt that need arch your back and throb in your channel. It felt like being turned on, it wasn’t like you’d never felt that before, but it was so much more intense that it almost felt like a new sensation entirely. Even though your mind didn't understand what was going on, your body was calling out for him: Alpha, Alpha, Alpha—

Something changed in the air then.

"What did you call me?"

His voice was just as dark as his eyes, and suddenly you stilled. Oh god, you'd said it out loud.

"Say it again," he ordered; for what little you knew about all this, you knew why your body gave into his demand like it couldn't do anything else but obey.

"Alpha," you whimpered, looking up at him. But you knew what he was already— right then, you were realizing what you were. Only omegas were susceptible to an Alpha's voice like that. This isn't possible, this is not possible… I'm too young, my parents are betas, how is this happening to me?

"You're going to be okay," he promised, "I know… I know it hurts. But I can make it better, I can help you."

You nodded, panting, going along with it because you just needed him, needed the help he was promising. You felt dizzy and delirious, but somehow the feeling was sort of addictive— like you craved the cure as much as the sickness. With Eddie here, it was tolerable, even though the waves of pain made you shudder and whine through your teeth.

“I’m gonna help you,” he whispered, again.

You blinked at him, trying to clear the haze from your eyes, and saw the dark shimmer in his own— his pupils had blown out wide, his nostrils were flaring; he kept shaking his head, like he was trying to clear his thoughts, and it made his fluffy hair rustle. “How?” you finally asked.

His hands tightened as they gripped your shoulders, and you clutched at his chest, whimpering under your breath as you felt the strong muscle under his thin shirt and hot skin. “Do you trust me?” he replied instead of answering.

You nodded. “Anything, Alpha, please—”

“Fuck,” he choked, and you gasped as his face buried in the crook of your neck. His nose brushed against your jaw, his mouth was right up against your pulse as he spoke. “I can smell you, you know— I can smell what you are. It’s… I read about it, but I never knew…”

Your eyes had already fluttered shut as you hung off of him, and you could smell him too; you were so overstimulated that it was hard to focus on it, but it was sort of musky and warm and smoky— and sweet. Like a Christmas fireplace with roasted chestnuts and caramel just starting to toast on the stove; it was like a memory you hadn’t lived yet, nostalgia for a home you never had.

You whimpered slightly as he pulled away, reaching out for more of his touch, but he just looked at you with his mouth open a bit to let his heavy breathing pass through. “I— I can help you, I’m gonna help you,” he kept insisting, speaking hurriedly as he opened his belt and jeans. It was slightly disconcerting, but your need was growing and you were in no place to reject his help— not when searing pain bloomed from your gut, crawled up your back and into your mind where it demanded the touch of an Alpha.

Still, you had some sense left in you. As well as plenty of fear; your eyes nearly popped out of your head when they caught a glimpse of his cock. "No— no way," you shook your head, trying to scoot away, "it won't… it can't—"

"It'll fit," he insisted, his grip tightening for a moment on his concerningly-massive erection, "you're an omega. You're made to take it."

Even as terror clawed at your mind, arousal was coursing through your veins; hearing him talk like that, seeing his body, it all called to something incredibly primal inside you. Something you didn't even know you had… technically, maybe you didn't until just now. Or maybe it was always there, waiting for Eddie— after all, you'd presented after being around him for the longest (and closest) you ever had.

"I won't hurt you, I swear," he breathed, but you could hear his desperation, too. It must be hard, presenting young in a town like Hawkins where all the omegas are already long-since mated and married— and maybe a little mature for a twenty-year-old anyways, if that mattered. And as for betas, well, you'd heard that it was… difficult, for Alphas and betas to mate. Now you saw directly why: it could kill them, trying to take this. You were still afraid it would kill you. "It won't hurt, it's… it's going to feel good. It's natural."

"Okay," you nodded, "okay, just… talk me through this, please— Alpha, I'm scared…"

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. It should've been awkward, hugging a relative stranger, but it was so comforting… you sighed and held him, too, a bit of the ache inside you stilling. And yet, your anticipation was growing: you felt another wave of slick start to leak out of you, and you whimpered slightly.

"Please," you whispered, "help me… I want you to."

"Shit," he blurted out, letting you go just long enough to peel his jacket off quickly. "Just lay down, okay?" he offered as he put the jacket down on the floor behind you, not much padding from the hard tile but at least some protection from the coldness of it.

You laid back, shivering as he climbed on top of you. "Have you ever done this before?" you asked suddenly. "Not just sex— helping an omega, specifically…"

It was kind of a stupid question, because where the fuck were these hypothetical omegas Eddie might have been with? But you weren’t exactly thinking straight at the moment, understandably. "Well, uh, no," he mumbled, "but I think I know how to do it. I mean, I think I've always known— I couldn't tell you how, but… I can feel it."

You swallowed nervously.

"Trust me," he insisted. "I know how much it hurts, I… just trust me.”

He was alone when he presented, after all; you finally put that together, and the thought of it inexplicably made your heart twist. You knew nothing of the perils of presentation for an Alpha, but if anything like this… and he didn’t have anyone to hold him like he held you, to tell him it would be okay, to take the pain away… god, how did he survive it?

When he started to lift up your shirt, you did your best to help him— the wave of cool air on your overheated skin was almost a relief, until suddenly you were freezing. You pulled him down close to you, feeling the warmth of him even through his shirt, and sighed happily.

He helped you out of your pants next, and you should've felt incredibly strange being completely naked in your fucking cafeteria. But you didn't, you felt better even, you felt more natural than ever as his eyes drank you in and his hands carefully parted your thighs.

"See, all this— this is your slick," he explained, dragging two fingers through your swollen folds until you jolted from his touch.

There was so much, you'd nearly soaked through your jeans, and just one swipe had soaked his thick fingers with clear, shiny arousal.

"It's gonna help you," he continued, panting slightly as he stared at his glistening hand. "Fuck, you can smell it, right? It smells so good."

You could smell something, but you wouldn't necessarily call it good… it was sort of earthy and sour, not like a perfume or candy or something. Maybe it smelled different to him, or maybe he was just attracted to it anyway.

"I think if Mr. Maxwell was here, he'd be able to smell it— from anywhere in the building," Eddie explained. Mr. Maxwell was the only Alpha teacher at Hawkins High… you were suddenly very thankful he wasn't here. He certainly didn't seem like the type to go after his own student for being a brand-new omega, but what did you know?

"What would happen, if he did?" you mumbled. "If he smelled me?"

Eddie considered that for a second. "I… I don't know. I think he's able to control himself."

Well, that response begged a new question: "Can you?"

You saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his gaze still trained on where your thighs glistened with your need. "I don't know," he admitted. "If you asked me to go now…"

He tensed his jaw, and met your gaze.

"I don't know if I could stop," he informed you sternly. "So don't ask me to, and we won't have to find out."

You shuddered and nodded; you wouldn’t ask him to stop, not when you needed him this badly. Not when the idea of being alone, of being away from him, made your gut sink.

Still, your heart was racing— you wondered if he could hear it, too, since it was deafening inside your own head— as he reached for you, that intimidating cock still curling up from his opened jeans.

He gripped it with one hand, petting your thigh with the other, guiding himself right up against you; your quivering cunt flexed against itself, another wave of slick leaking down to the floor under you— coating him, before he was even inside.

“Trust me,” he breathed, “trust me— please, let me do this. Tell me I can fuck you.”

“Y-you can fuck me, Alpha, please,” you whined.

Holding on tight to your hip, he pushed his thick head inside; you were crooning and gasping already, trying to push down for more even though it was already almost too much, but his strong grip kept you still and perfectly helpless.

“More,” you begged under your breath, “god, please? Wan’ everything, need all of you— Alpha, my Alpha…”

His tongue and lips were all over your neck, hair tickling your chest and face. “So good, omega, you’re doing s’good, just stay still.”

It didn’t hurt until he was halfway in, and you whined loudly as you grabbed at his thigh under your own, hoping to slow him down. He was breathing just as hard as you, hot air spreading over your skin that was wet with his spit now, sensitive from the assault of his lips and teeth.

He didn’t warn you that he was going to give you the rest, he just pushed it in all at once and groaned as you choked out your sob.

"Fuck," he said with a gasp, "I— ah, god— I didn't know it would be like this…"

And neither did you, you didn't know how quickly your pain would fade and your body would give in to him. He was right, it didn't hurt much… there was a sting, yes, and a stretch, but it was good pain. It was pain you were made to take, like he said.

"Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly. You could only nod; words had abandoned you. Well, except one.

"Alpha," you moaned, and you heard him growl beside your neck.

"I'm here, omega," he promised. "I'm gonna give you what you need… you're gonna be okay, you're safe."

You held on tighter to his shoulders, hiding your face in his neck, and he started to move. The stretch was so intense that your legs were shaking with every movement, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything, you wouldn’t give up this friction inside you for the world right now— it was a salve for the pain that had been clawing you open from the inside out, but just as intense as the pain had been, now you had this hunger instead. This… need.

“Feels so good,” you heard him whisper against your ear, “fuck, omega, you feel so good inside, you were made for me. You were made for this, I know— I know you’re mine.”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip. As he held you close and moved inside you, time moved differently— slower, but all at once, like you were stuck in a dream.

Everything else faded away— the fear that someone would walk in, the awareness of where you were and how this happened, anxiety and confusion and pain— and you were just drowning in every sensation: his tongue laving at your neck, his fingers holding your waist tightly, his cock inside you and stretching you. He didn’t say much at first, he didn’t need to, but when you shuddered and another wave of slick leaked out around him, you felt him smirk. “So wet,” he praised, “so good for your Alpha. Do it again.”

You were almost self-conscious about how wet you were, maybe you would've been if it wasn't for Eddie being enraptured by it— he was looking down at where your bodies were joined, amazed as he watched you soak his cock over and over with more of your arousal. You could hear it, the filthy wet sounds somewhat distant and fuzzy in your ringing ears, and your face was hot— your whole head was feverish, really, and your eyes were teary just from how overwhelmingly wonderful it felt.

"Fuck," you heard him grunt under his breath, "it's so— god, how do you feel? Are you okay?"

You opened your mouth to try to tell him that it was perfect, he was perfect, but only a pathetic moan came out; you nodded quickly instead.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "You look beautiful like this— so pretty for me."

A pained whine jumped out through your teeth— even though you felt good, his words brought back some of that ache from before, and your back arched up off the floor dramatically.

You were about to relax a bit and lay flat again, until you felt his hand move up your thigh, over your mound where his palm rested while his thumb brushed over your clit. Your body jolted; you were confident you'd never been that sensitive there before.

"Alpha!" you whimpered.

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "you need to come— it's gonna help you. You trust me, right? Let me help you."

But the feeling inside you was already pushing you to your limits— his cock was already so deep that it felt like it was going to hit the back of your brain or something.

He rubbed your clit as fast as he could, holding your hips steady with his other hand so you couldn't try to buck away from his touch. You convulsed and moaned, holding onto him with all your fading strength.

“Alpha, Alpha, please!” you sobbed. “It’s— too much!”

“No, you can take it,” he promised roughly under his breath. “Just come for me, let go, little omega— please, let go for your Alpha, this is what you need. You need to come for me— come, right now.”

Shivering and crying loudly, your body went limp— except for inside, where you were pulsing uncontrollably, bearing down on his thick length. It was so intense, it almost hurt, and yet it was your favorite pain you ever felt.

You hadn’t noticed that your hands were grabbing his arm until they let go, leaving just a bit of moisture on his sleeve from the clamminess. “Did you…?” he began to ask. “I mean, is it better now? It hurts less?”

You tried to process his questions, but you were still coming down from it, still catching your breath. “It’s… it’s a little better.”

“You need more?” he asked, and fuck, it was a totally genuine question, but the way he said it…

Nodding, you pulled him down on top of you and buried your face in his neck. “Just don’t stop,” you pleaded, “Alpha— don’t stop, m’gonna be good for you…”

It was impossible to define what compelled you to say that, but it didn’t really matter. Your first orgasm had numbed your body and mind enough to let you just submit to your instincts, to trust not only your Alpha, but your own body and its ability to do what it was made to do. It felt better, when you stopped worrying and accepted your place.

And no, despite what some sexists might say, your place was not beneath. Your place was not serving, pleasing, obeying. Your place was simply in his arms. Your place was with your Alpha.

“I— fuck, I don’t know how much longer I can last,” he admitted lowly. “You just… you feel so good, omega, you’re my omega, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you promised.

“Loved feeling you come on me,” he grunted through his teeth, “can you do it again? If I tell you to?”

“I’ll do— I’ll do a-anything you tell me to,” you stuttered as you tried to swallow past the dryness in your throat from panting so hard.

“Then come,” he demanded again, renewing the movements of his thumb on your clit— but honestly, you didn’t even need it. Just his voice, just an Alpha’s voice ordering you (as well as the overly-sensitive feeling your last orgasm had left behind) was enough to send you over the edge in just a few moments. He praised you all the way through it, every kind word like another shock of ecstasy through your body. “So good,” he said again, rough and deep as he rested his head on your shoulder, “so good for me, omega— feels so good when I make you come.”

You smiled through your exhaustion because it felt so good to make him feel good— to know you were pleasing him.

"You know what's gonna happen, don't you?" he whispered. "I'm gonna… knot you."

"Fuck, please," you choked.

"It might hurt a little," he warned, "but it's gonna— fuck, s'gonna be so good, if you just trust me."

"I trust you, Alpha," you promised. "Want your knot, please…"

“Beautiful,” he grunted as he fucked you harder and faster, “my beautiful omega— mine.”

You whined through your teeth, clutching his shoulders tighter. “Alpha!”

“Whose omega are you?”

“Y-yours,” you choked, “yours, Alpha, Alpha…”

“Tell me again,” he demanded.

“I’m yours! Yours, Eddie—”

He cut you off with a rough kiss right away; you didn’t even question it. You felt him coming inside you and your mind went blank, your body went crazy, your senses went haywire. He was coming inside you, and nothing had ever felt so good. You sobbed with joy, holding onto him tighter as you felt the base of his cock swelling— you already thought you were at your limits, and yet his knot kept growing inside you and you just kept taking it.

“Alpha,” you whispered with the last of your breath.

He couldn't move as much with the knot growing, keeping him buried inside you, but he still ever-so-slightly rocked your body, grinding his hips against yours.

You fell back onto his jacket on the floor with a sigh, panting so hard you thought your chest might not fit all the air you were gasping for. Finally you felt almost like yourself again, almost lucid, though still sort of numb all over; which, considering the incredible fullness inside you, was a good thing.

You tried to adjust your hips, wincing as it disturbed the delicate balance within you. Your bodies were interlocked now, and your returning logical mind remembered that this part might last for a while— that was the whole point, evolutionarily speaking.

“Fuck,” Eddie grunted, finally stilling completely and propping himself up on his arms above you. You watched him catch his breath, admiring the shape of his jaw, the way his lashes looked extra long when his eyes were shut and they fell over his cheeks; you reached up and brushed some hair away from his face, and that seemed to get his attention. “I-I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

“What? Eddie, no— thank you, thank you so much,” you sighed, “the pain’s gone.”

“For now,” he warned. “It’ll come back— if it’s anything like mine was. You’ll need more… a lot more.”

You worried, for a moment, that he was telling you that you needed more than he could give. You couldn’t imagine anyone or anything else helping you now— you needed him, that much was clear. You grabbed a handful of his shirt, and he looked down at that hand on him before he looked at your face again.

“I’ll take you home,” he said.

“Like this?” you panted. “What am I gonna tell my parents?”

“N-no, my home,” he corrected, and you were surprised, yet somehow you soothed at the same time. “I-it’s not much, just a trailer, but you can nest there and I can… I can take care of you.”

Your heart was singing; you’d never been cared for before. You never wanted to admit that you needed it.

You were sort of on autopilot; you’d been gathering random linens and clothes of Eddie’s and piling them on the corner of the bed. You couldn’t say exactly… why, but Eddie explained it was natural. At least when you were doing this, you weren’t so needy that he had to stay and hold you— he could actually go out and get some provisions for the both of you.

He told you that this whole thing could take up to a week, but you could stay here and Wayne was going to find somewhere to crash until you were done; he told you it was going to get worse before it got better, and come and go in waves. Most importantly, he told you that he would do whatever he could to help you.

You could hardly believe he was a near-total stranger to you this morning. There was still an awkwardness there, especially on his part, but you felt this impossible connection with him now— you felt so safe with him, in fact you never felt safe without him. Which was why you smiled with excitement the moment you heard his van pull up outside.

By the time he was at the door, you were already opening it for him. “Hi,” you beamed.

“Hey,” he smiled back, a bit more hesitant.

You reached for the grocery bags. “L-lemme help you with those—”

“Nooo way,” he denied as he lifted them over your head while he stepped past you, “let the big strong Alpha do it, sweetheart.”

The door swung shut and you thought you could swoon. Sweetheart. This kind of shit would’ve made you roll your eyes yesterday. Now you were such a sucker for it, and he was just being friendly.

“Plenty of food for the next few days,” he explained as he sorted the contents of his bag into either the pantry or fridge. “Nothing, you know, fancy, but… it’ll keep your energy up. And mine.”

You watched him, clutching your hands together in front of you, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were waiting on. You just liked watching him, really.

“Oh! I got some ice packs too,” he remembered. “You might get really hot, o-or crampy, so those can help a lot.”

“Okay,” you nodded, smiling. He shut the pantry door that he’d been leaning behind and looked over at you. After a quick moment, he stepped up in front of you, and you tilted your head back to look up at him; he smiled, and reached up to hold your face in his hand.

Looking straight forward, you were right at eye-level with his Hellfire Club shirt. You reached to where it ended, just beside his black faux-leather belt, and you started to lift it up off of him. Smirking a bit, he helped you take it off of him— you immediately held the ball of fabric up to your face, inhaling his scent. You hardly even noticed his toned chest dotted with hair and tattoos, you were too busy realizing you’d just found the perfect final piece for your nest.

You ran to the bedroom and pounced onto the bed, stuffing the shirt in with the other clothes and things, smiling contentedly as you buried yourself in them. A long, deep inhale filled your lungs with the smell of Alpha, and it made everything feel alright.

You felt the bed dip as Eddie climbed onto the mattress with you, and you poked your head out from your little cave. “Doin’ alright in there?” he asked, and you bit your lip as you nodded. “I’ll just leave you be until you need—”

“No,” you interjected quickly, grabbing his guitar pick necklace and tugging him closer. “No, stay here… you were just gone for so long…”

“Yeah, we needed food,” he reminded you.

“But I didn’t like you being gone,” you breathed.

“I thought you were okay with it! You said I could go,” he remembered.

“Y-yeah, but then, you know…” you trailed off. Your eyes wandered over his bare torso, over his arms and shoulders…

When you looked at his face again, he was smiling a little, and he reached up to push his hair out of his face. “But then?” he prompted.

“I just missed you more than I thought I would,” you sighed.

“Yeah?” he hummed, scooting up on the bed to be even closer to you. “I missed you more than I thought I would, too. I probably still reek of you— and your slick.”

You whimpered. “Do I smell like you?”

“You fucking better,” he said plainly, like it wasn’t so hot that your thighs quivered briefly.

He pulled you close to him, pressing your face against his chest; when you breathed in, you got a big whiff of his skin, of the heady scent of your Alpha. It silenced every anxiety in your mind and body, and you realized you’d never felt this comfortable— this safe— in your life. Something instinctive told you that you were going to be protected and loved; you felt whole.

You snuggled into his arms, nuzzling at his chest, and he sighed as he kissed your head. “You’re cute,” he informed you quietly, and you smiled as you looked up at him.

“Really?” you hummed, and he nodded. “You’re… big.”

He laughed. “I’m still getting used to it,” he admitted. “All of it.”

Your eyes drifted to his chest in front of you, and your fingers drew random shapes in his thin body hair— then moved to trace his tattoos. “What’s it like?” you asked. “Going through all this…”

"It's… honestly, it sucks," he laughed lightly. "It's like puberty all over again."

"Fuck."

"But worse."

"God," you whined, letting your head fall onto his chest. "Tell me I'm not gonna have to do this alone."

His hand reached up and pet your head. "You're not gonna have to do this alone."

Your heart hurt as you imagined him doing this alone— of course, presenting is different for Alphas and omegas, they have ruts while you have heats, but it must be similar compared to everything else.

"Are we gonna… do we need to talk about it?" he asked.

"About what?"

"About how we woke up this morning as basically total strangers," he replied. "About how I wasn't even sure if you knew my name. And now we… now I…"

You nodded against him. “It’s weird how right it feels. Like, I know I should be questioning it.” You tilted your head up to put your temple on his shoulder, so you could look at his face. “I know it shouldn’t make any sense. But it does.”

“Maybe it’s always like that,” he wondered.

“Maybe,” you offered.

He kissed your forehead. “Or,” he breathed, “maybe it’s just that you really were always supposed to be mine.”

You didn’t reply to that with words, just a shiver and an arm slipping around his torso to hold onto him tighter. As much as it was far too romantic for anything you were willing to believe, there was a growing mountain of evidence that implied he was right— that you were his from the start. First of all, you presented early, and suddenly, when you were close to him for a while.

His gentle kisses moved in a path down your face, finding your neck and teasing you there carefully. “Do you like being mine?” he asked softly. You nodded as you held onto him tighter, moaning when he dragged his teeth over your skin. “I’m so fuckin’ lucky, got this pretty omega all to myself. Every Alpha’s dream— sweet little cunt in heat to breed.”

He rolled you onto your back and descended on you, pressing his body weight into you, and you spread your legs without even thinking about it.

It wasn’t as bad as the first wave, but it still made you hot and needy, it still robbed you of logical thinking and turned you into a desperate, mewling little thing beneath him. You were too caught up in the dreamy fog of it all to even be embarrassed, to care about begging for him so pathetically— he didn’t even have to make you beg, he never teased you, he gave you everything you wanted. Still, you were a broken record: please, Alpha, fuck me— need you, Alpha, please, please—

“Knot me,” you begged, too, and he groaned as he held you tighter. “Please, s’the only thing that makes the pain go away, please? Alpha, give me your knot, wanna be full—”

“Shh,” he soothed, “I know, I know, baby… but maybe— fuck, maybe I should pull out this time.”

“No, please!” you sobbed. “Feels so good when your knot’s inside me, Alpha.”

“You could… you can get pregnant,” he reminded you thinly, even though it was sort of obvious— that’s the point of all this, biologically. “It’s not as likely your first heat, you’re still just presenting, but… you could.”

“I don’t care,” you breathed, “just please, Alpha, come in me again, please please—”

“Okay,” he promised with kisses all over your face, “it’s okay, I will, m’gonna help you. Just need you to come one more time first.”

“Can’t,” you shook your head, but then again, you’d said that last time and he still made you do it.

“C’mon, omega, just wanna feel one more? You can do it,” he cooed, “you can leak a little more slick with that pretty hole, I know you can, I know— it’s gonna hurt but it’s worth it, just one more…”

You were about to tell him you really couldn't do it, that three was your official limit, even though your heat-brain hated the idea of saying no to Alpha.

"Just one more," he pleaded, "for me, sweetheart?"

And before you knew it, you were nodding and bracing yourself, letting every sensation wash over you even though you might explode from being so overwhelmed. You didn't explode in a literal sense, but you almost felt like you did— it hit you like a train and you sobbed out his name pathetically as you tried to take it all.

His knot swelled inside you a moment later, bringing the only real relief you got from this. Eddie seemed to think that your orgasms were the key to staving off your heat-induced delirium, but it was his that soothed your body and mind the most.

Those moments you spent forced to be near him as you both waited for the swelling to go down enough for him to pull out… those were the moments you could think clearest, but your sanity was wasted on simply laying there letting him coo at you gently, praising you, kissing your face and neck. Those were the moments you really remembered that this was Eddie Munson, that guy in health class, a relative stranger— and everything you needed.

"Oh, it’s all messed up,” you mumbled as you looked up at the pile of clothes you’d carefully arranged on the bed, seeing it had toppled over in the heat of the moment. You tried to reach for it to fiddle with it, but Eddie laughed softly as he guided your face to look at him again.

“Welcome back,” he greeted, pecking the end of your nose with a kiss. “The nest can wait— just talk to me for a minute, please?”

You smiled and kissed him back on the lips— just for a second, until he held your face tighter with both hands and kissed you harder and longer. You hummed into it, feeling him smile against you, and he finally let go to nuzzle his face into your neck. “Your hair is tickling me,” you complained as you tried to sputter enough to get one wayward wavy strand out of your mouth, but he shook his head just to make it even worse; you giggled and turned your face away, still getting pelted with hair as you laughed harder. “Stop!” you whined, feeling his hands hold you at either side to keep you pinned under him.

He only stopped when he suddenly rolled onto his back, holding you tight and pulling you with him— you still couldn’t separate from each other, and so you were laying on his chest and straddling his hips with your weak legs. “I can feel it when you laugh, you know,” he told you, still smiling. “Inside.”

You shivered, holding him tighter. Why was that so hot? You clenched, intentionally, to see if he’d react, and he hissed in a little breath. “You can feel that?” you realized, and he nodded.

You did it again, and he hissed and gripped your hips. “Don’t do that,” he warned, “unless you want me to fuck you again.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, he grinned back at you.

“Okay, wait,” he breathed, “that was basically asking you to do it. Just… wait until the knot goes down, okay? I don’t recover as fast as you.”

You nodded, resting your chin on his chest and blinking up at him as he sighed and relaxed under you. His hands stroked your back, mostly mindlessly, while you found yourself reaching up to play with his hair.

“Are you still gonna want me around?” he asked suddenly, looking down at you again. “When the heat’s over.”

You hesitated, opening your mouth and then shutting it again.

“I shouldn’t ask that now,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly as if frustrated with himself. “You can’t know yet. I guess what I’m trying to say is… if you just want this to be… this, that’s okay. I can help you out and then we can go our separate ways.”

You swallowed thickly; he made it sound easy, but imagining it was impossible. You couldn’t be separate from him, it would be excruciating.

“But, you know, if you wanna… go out sometime,” he stumbled over his words, “a-after this is all over, and we can leave the house again—”

“Are you asking me out?” you realized, eyes widening.

“Um,” he stalled, laughing slightly, “yeah. Trying to, at least.”

“You’re literally inside me right now,” you reminded him, “and you’re hesitating to ask me to be your girlfriend.”

“Woah, woah,” he scoffed as he raised his hands, “I just said a date, let’s not rush things—”

You laughed and shoved his face away in punishment, but he held you by your wrists and sat up, keeping you perched in his lap as he kissed you— both of you still giggling a bit as you moved your lips together.

One week later…

"You understand why your case is so important to us," the doctor explained, smiling politely as he looked at you. "Presenting at eighteen is rare enough, even for someone with a much higher likelihood of having ESD. But with two beta parents… those odds make winning the lottery seem likely."

Eddie had already joked about buying some Powerball tickets, but you still weren't sure if this was all incredible luck or misfortune. That said, you did feel better with his arm around your shoulders; he'd insisted on coming into the exam room with you, despite the exasperated nurse explaining you were meant to come in alone. You were impressed she stood up to an Alpha for as long as she did, but she gave in eventually, and you were thankful for it.

"If you don't mind, we'd like to run some tests," the doctor continued. "If we understand your unique case, we may understand the entire concept of dimorphism better. Would you give your consent for our research?"

You were swinging your legs as they hung off the exam table, watching your bare feet brush against Eddie's shoes; the hospital gown wasn't enough to shield you from the coldness and sterility of the air, and you leaned harder into Eddie for warmth. Looking up at the man in the white coat, you only hesitated a second before nodding.

"We'll need a few blood samples," the doctor enumerated as you sighed through another understanding nod, "and a cervical sample."

"Cervical?" Eddie repeated.

"Yes, from the cervix? It's—"

"I know what the cervix is," Eddie frowned. "How would this sample be collected?"

"Um, well, I would insert a brush up the—"

"Nope," Eddie interrupted firmly, "no, no way."

"I—" the doctor started.

"Nothing's going up anything, okay? Nothing's going… in her."

"I understand that you're feeling protective at the moment," the doctor sighed. "That's a normal hormonal reaction."

You blinked and stared down into your lap, where Eddie's hand was holding yours tightly, just under the plastic bracelet that had your information on it. Name, birthday, patient ID number, and of course, sex. You expected to see an F there, like you always had on any form or ID or paperwork. You were still getting used to what you saw instead: O.

A normal hormonal reaction. Does that mean it's not really real? That it's a phase that passes, and you'll just be strangers again?

You squeezed Eddie's hand, feeling him squeeze yours back; it felt so real now, though. You couldn't imagine life without this, even though that's exactly what your life had been until just a week ago.

"That said," the doctor continued, "she needs to make her own medical decisions. If we feel that your presence is putting her under any duress, and therefore interfering with her right to informed consent and medical privacy, we will have you removed from the premises."

You almost wanted to see them try, three beta security guards versus one Alpha running on mating instincts. But you shook your head and spoke up instead. "It's alright," you interjected, "I— I don't want an internal exam, please. But you can take as much blood as you need."

Even that seemed to frustrate Eddie, who huffed a little and gently squeezed your shoulder, but kept his mouth shut. The doctor smiled. "It won't be that much," he assured, "just a few vials. And a cheek swab, if that doesn't count as internal."

“That’s fine,” you nodded.

When the doctor left to get the tools needed to draw your blood, you laid your head on Eddie's shoulder as he gently played with your hair.

"I don't think that guy likes me too much," Eddie whispered, making you smile and tilt your face into the crook of his neck.

"He's just trying to make sure you're not controlling me," you assured.

"But compared to your parents he's, like, my biggest fan," Eddie added, and you smacked him lightly on the chest as you laughed.

"Shut up," you mumbled, "they don't hate you… they're just trying to understand all this. So am I, honestly."

One of his strong hands came up to hold your face, thumb petting your temple, as he kissed the top of your head. Wayne had been the first to deliver the news to your parents, and you would never have enough money in your life to repay him for being the one to knock on their door and say hey, funny story, your daughter's an omega and she's currently getting her brains fucked out by my nephew, anyways see you in a week when she gets her logical reasoning back and also might be pregnant, toodaloo.

(You figured he found a better way to say it than that, but still, that was probably what they heard.)

It was a couple days before you were stable long enough to go over there yourself, Eddie close by your side the whole time, trying to explain it as best you could in a way they would understand. They, too, had made Eddie leave to speak with you alone— even though it made you feel like you had to leave your heart in the other room— and asked you if somehow he was making you do this. It seemed like no matter what you said, people had trouble believing that Eddie saved you, that you needed him now and that he needed you, too.

Not that you could really blame them, because it wasn't something you could put into words, either. You just felt it. It was basic, natural instinct. It's like trying to explain why you eat multiple times a day or why you have to get up and walk to be able to cross the room.

You were snuggled up in Eddie's arms when a nurse came in, rolling a cart with the essentials for a blood draw on top. You bit your lip when you saw four vials, knowing how those were going to get filled.

"Are you afraid of needles?" she asked.

"I… have a healthy respect for them," you replied, making her laugh a bit.

"That's fair," she nodded, grabbing your wrist and gently pulling your arm so she could wipe down the area she was going to prick.

You turned your face into his chest, closing your eyes, since you figured looking would only make it worse.

As she tied your arm and searched for the vein, Eddie held your head to his shoulder tightly, soothing you gently. "It's okay," he whispered against your head, "you're okay…"

He winced almost as hard as you did when she finally did it, and you knew that this was hurting him, too. You felt the same way when he accidentally cut his finger, or when he told you about some of the more difficult stories from his past; his pain was your pain.

"All done!" the nurse announced with a little too much chipperness as she untied the tight rubber from your arm and taped down a cotton ball to the small dot of a wound.

You exhaled slowly, and Eddie kissed your cheek. "You did so good, sweetheart," he praised.

"That's sweet," the nurse cooed, sweetness quickly slipping into condescension. "I guess you two are mates, huh?"

You wished you had the guts to blurt out the first snarky thing you thought of: No, he's my tax attorney. Of course he's my mate, are you blind?

"Yeah," you offered shyly instead.

"How long have you been going out?" she asked, making conversation half-heartedly as she cleaned up the rolling cart and threw away what she didn't need.

"We haven't actually, uh, had a chance to go on a real date yet," Eddie interjected, making you wince and look down. "Unless this counts— but I was thinking something a little more traditional for our first date than a drive to the hospital and a blood draw."

The nurse made a little face, like she was trying to be nice, not even looking at you. "Well, that's… sweet… I'm surprised they let you back here together."

"Doctor Ali knew it was important to me," you explained quickly.

She nodded. "You're young… everything feels important when you're that age."

"What does that mean?" Eddie snapped.

"Well, it's just that… you know, first love and all," she shrugged.

"You don't get it," Eddie laughed coldly. "You're a beta, you could never understand. It's different for us— we mate for life."

Your throat caught. If that was true, it never came up in health class…

You waited until Eddie was driving you home to bring it up— but you’d been imagining asking about it ever since he said it.

"Do we really…?" you asked, looking down at your hands in your lap as you sat still in the passenger seat. "Are we mates for life now?"

He swallowed, glancing down. "We don't have to be. It's not like every omega stays with the first Alpha they meet— actually, maybe most of them don’t. But that’s how it used to be, back in the day— mates stayed together, always.”

That sounded nice; your heart beat a little faster just imagining it.

“I just…” he began, trailing off and starting over. “I'm starting to wonder if it wasn't a coincidence. Even if it seems pretty random— we didn't know each other at all, before— I think it happened for a reason."

You shivered, but nodded in agreement. “I think so, too.”

"I think you're supposed to be mine."

You smiled, looking down into your lap shyly once again. “I don’t know about supposed to, but… I know that I want to be.”

“Let me remind you, one more time,” he smirked, “that we barely know each other.”

But you knew everything that mattered about each other, and so you smiled to yourself. “I don’t care,” you insisted.

You blinked quickly, looking at him and out the window, when you realized he was pulling the van over. When you were parked on the side of the road, he leaned over the console and held your cheek in one hand as you looked up at him. His face was determined, yet soft; his eyes were even bigger than you remembered. “Do you wanna be my mate? Really?”

“Eddie,” you sighed, “of course— can’t you tell?”

“No, I know,” he shook his head, “I just mean that if we do this— if we really do this, the whole mated pair thing— it’s just you and me, for the long haul. Together.”

You reached up and put your own hand on top of his. “That’s what I want.”

“And I should warn you now,” he added, “that if you let me… I’m gonna breed you.”

You shivered. “I… I want that, too.”

He growled, quiet but enough for you to hear and gasp as it seemed to rattle through your body, as he pulled you into a kiss. You whimpered into it, clutching at his jacket needily until he smiled at you. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, and you shivered again.

“F-fuck, Eddie, can we…? Now?” you asked.

“Here?” he smirked. “In the van?”

You glanced at the back for just a split second, but he noticed, and laughed lowly in that way that made your thighs clench together.

“You wanna get in the back?” he noticed, and you nodded, looking at him again with half-lidded eyes. “I really don’t deserve you— it’s not fair, you know, me having the sweetest omega in the world all to myself.”

“Just take me,” you pleaded, sick of the teasing, desperate for him to make good on that promise to breed you— logic be damned. “Alpha…”

“Shh,” he soothed, kissing your neck instead as you melted into his arms, “m’right here, sweetheart.”

#alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #alpha!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson a/b/o #stranger things a/b/o #stranger things omegaverse

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fleshbride · 6 months

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A HOUSE IN NEBRASKA. ────── ཐི Satoru Gojo x Fem Black Reader. In which a young man and his small town lover run to a house in Nebraska to escape the traumas of their hometown. ཋྀ

♱ CW: major character deaths, suicide, angst with a happy ending, brief alcoholism, racism/microagressions, childhood best friend & country satoru, small town bullshit, a single derogatory use of ‘nigga’. fluff. pet names such as: sugar plum, doll, honey, princess, baby girl, dream girl, darling, sweet thing & sunshine. smut; unprotected sex, whiny service dom gojo, sub reader. cervix fucking, fingering, oral (f! receiving), riding, breeding, extreme amounts of praise bc satoru talks so fucking much, overstimulation, dumbification, light choking, marking, nipple play, body worship, dacryphilia, begging, pussy drunk satoru. satoru is utterly in love with you and does not try to hide it. chubby reader.

♱ this fic is inspired by a house in nebraska by ethel cain, my favorite singer <3 it’s one of my much much longer fics… this fic is actually so ouch. i’m so so so sorry guys. like yeah there’s PASSIONATE love making, but it’s so so so sad. i actually sobbed writing this. it’s not proof read so pleaseeeee excuse any any mistakes!

♱ wc: 10.1k

You didn’t think it would hurt this much. You didn’t think you’d feel them lodge in your throat, push down your esophagus with a burn. You take more gulps of water, as you gasp and choke. It helps a little bit. You swallow more. And more. And more. Until the bottle of oxycodone is empty. How many were in there? About thirty. You grasp at another bottle. Cross contamination is always the best method. Those go down your throat just as horribly as the rest.

You’re sitting on the floor now, waiting for your death to approach. The pills are burning down to your stomach, and you gulp more water. You stand on shaky legs, and stumble your way to your bed. It’s empty. Like so many other things. Like your heart.

You remember how you got to this point, in your final hours. As you collapse into your bed, eyes fluttering shut, you allow the memories to wash over you.

Two years ago, you lived in a small town in Alabama. It was your nineteenth birthday and you were intent on celebrating in a way that satisfied you. However, while legally an adult, you still weren’t old enough to do too much. And frankly, you weren’t well liked within town. Why? Well, in such a small town, even one you grew up in, that was predominantly another race… They weren’t very accepting to your differences. They weren’t very accepting to your skin, to your hair, to your body, to your personality. They weren’t accepting to you at all.

Even though you grew up there like the rest of them, played with their children, held some of their sons and daughters while they cried and helped them pass their classes, and walked the graduation stage with them. You were still an outsider.

And it was okay — because you had Satoru.

Satoru Gojo, the one of the only other people of color in the entire town — even though he was pale haired, with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen, like everyone else in the town — was your best friend. You two had been best friends since third grade when he beat up some kid that called your afro ugly, and then you kicked some kid in the balls when he made fun of Satoru’s eyes, since he was Asian. Even at a young age, you two knew that those things were wrong — and you had to stick together.

And you did. You’ve stuck together all your lives, even through middle school, when your boobs started growing, and your hips started widening, and he got taller and his voice got deeper, and all of a sudden, there was this weird feeling. You stuck together through high school, when you got your first boyfriend, and he got his first girlfriend, neither of which ended well. Stuck together even when everyone twanged out, “Are y’all fuckin’?” You stuck together.

So of course, your birthday is spent with him.

Satoru still lives with his parents, technically. They own a ranch on the outskirts of town, and Satoru has his own personal little refurbished barn house, which he got for his graduation present. You’re always there, even more than your own home. Even now, you’re waiting on the wraparound porch of your house, hand over your eyes as you squint into the distance.

You can make out Satoru, on a horse, and with another at his side. He didn’t. You feel yourself squeal at the sight of the familiar white horse; your favorite one. Her name is Jezzy, and she’s the only white horse they have. You and Jezzy had bonded when Jezzy was first born, a little calf. You’ve been her favorite, and vice versa ever since. Frankly, she likes you more than the man that takes care of her.

You don’t wait for Satoru to get to your porch. You run to him, your gladiator sandals slapping against the dirt path and making your white-painted toes dusty. The pink and green floral dress you wear flutters around your knees as you sprint, the wind whipping your neck. Satoru hops down from his caramel horse, Honesty. He’s running to meet you half way, and the smile that had made its way onto your face only grows wider.

He yells your name, and you yell his, and the two of you collide. You throw your arms around his shoulders, and his arms encircle your waist as he lifts you up into a spin. “Happy Birthday, girl,” he laughs in your ear when he finally puts you down. His familiar Southern twang bouncing in your ears. He kisses your forehead, before taking a finger to run through your newly straightened hair.

“Yer curls are gone,” he says, almost sad, his lips pulling in a familiar pout. “You’re gonna get ‘em back, right? Love it when your hair’s like that.” He leans his arm on your shoulder, a familiar habit, even though he’s much taller than you.

“Yes, Satoru,” you muse, “They’ll be back next week, no worries.” You laugh as he whoops, and jumps in the air, clicking his heels together and causing dust to rise up. When he lands, he gives you a proud grin, folding his arms. You notice what he wears. He’s wearing a black polo shirt, that’s tucked into blue jeans and his jeans are messily tucked into his boots. You chuckle. Him and those fucking boots. His wind breaker is thrown over the polo. However, your eyes linger on how his chest presses against the polo. His white locks of hair frame his face, although his cowboy hat smushes his hair, and his sapphire eyes gaze at you happily. You don’t look away and he smirks.

“How’s it feel bein’ nineteen, sugar plum?” Satoru asks as he leads you to Jezzy, who’s quick to snort at you and nuzzle your face with her huge nose. You giggle and scratch her neck, pulling away a little so she doesn’t ruin the makeup you did on your face.

“Doesn’t feel like nothin’, Satoru,” you respond, jolting as he grabs your hips and lifts you to help you onto the horse. His strong hands on your hips make you bristle a little, but you should be used to it now, shouldn’t you? “Just getting older.” He grins up at you from below, giving a little laugh. “Yeah, I get it, plum. I’ll be turnin’ twenty in December, and man… I was just a tyke, wrestlin’ in the fields yesterday.”

You laugh, watching as he boards Honesty. You two start the horses up and begin trotting down the path. There’s a few seconds of silence, before Satoru asks, “You sure y’wanna do this birthday party?”

Ah. You were so swept up by Satoru’s arrival that you forgot where he was taking you. His mother threw a party for you, and decided to invite ‘damn near everyone in town’, according to Satoru. He was very dubious, considering your treatment, but you agreed to it. At first, your mother wanted it to be a surprise party, but Satoru insistently shut that down.

“I’m sure, ‘Toru,” you say gently. The male smacks his teeth, and rolls his eyes a little, before adding, “We can tell my mama to cancel everything, y’know? She won’t be mad at’cha. She knows that the townspeople are dickheads.” You refuse the urge to laugh, because he’s right. They are dickheads. However, you have hope.

“It’s fine,” you insist, “I don’t wanna waste your mom’s hard work. Plus, I’m sure nobody’s gonna do anything on my birthday.” Satoru sighs, but he doesn’t press any further. You’re not too worried; you know if something does happen, he’s right behind you, and he’ll come in swinging. There hasn’t been a time that he hasn’t. However, despite that, you can’t help but secretly feel jittery and nervous.

The rest of your ride to Satoru’s home is filled with jokes, and playful banter. The cool night air swirls around you two, making you shiver a little. You should’ve brought your cardigan. Satoru’s eyes quickly catch on and he chucks his windbreaker at you. He doesn’t say a word as you catch it, he just nods at you. You slide it on, and even in the cool air, your cheeks feel hot.

When you two get in sight of the house, Satoru whistles out, “Race ‘ya!” And it catches you off guard, but you’re quick to spur Jezzy on into canter, her strong legs sprinting forward as the two of you race towards the large ranch house. You and Jezzy win, making Satoru groan. As you both slow down, beginning to head to the stables, he shoots, “You only won ‘cause it’s your birthday!”

Your smug smile says enough about how you feel about that; even though Satoru has more experience with horses, you have your own little luck with racing — you win every race.

You watch as Satoru slides off Honesty. She brays at him and nudges his shoulder, and he chuckles, cooing to her, grabbing both of the horses’ saddle handles, pulling them into the stable. You know better than to try to get off horses on your own; you’re thrown off balance, every time, and end up on your ass. So you wait patiently as he puts Honesty in her stable, before coming over to you.

“Didn’t forget ‘ya, sugar plum,” he grins at you as he presses his hands to your hips. Instead of helping you crawl down, he simply just lifts you down. The stables smell of a mixture of horse, hay and dirt. Even though it’s not the best smell, you’re not focused on it. You’re focused on the way Satoru looks over you as he sets you on, eyes raking over your figure.

The dress that’s glued to your wide hips, draped over your plush figure. Your makeup, delicately painted on your face; he can tell you took your time on it. And you’re still wearing his jacket. He smiles, tucking a strand of your collarbone-length hair behind your ear. “Look at you,” comes his affectionate murmur, one that makes a fuzzy, bubbly feeling spread from your toes to your head. “Just a doll. Prettiest fuckin’ girl in this entire town.” You feel those feelings rising inside of you, and you try to push him away, embarrassed as you say, “Oh, stop, Satoru,” but he pulls you closer by your waist, craning down to you to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Nuh-uh, doll. You jus’ look so beautiful. You always do, but tonight you’re just… wow. Yer glowin’, Y/N.” Your heart is racing as he squeezes the plush of your waist, making you let out a ticklish giggle. Often, there are random times where he gets affectionate with you, extremely so — you should be used to these moments, but you aren’t. Your hands fist into his shirt as his lips press from your forehead, to down your chin. Your breath catches when they get too close to your lips.

This isn’t friendship anymore, is it?

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispers into your ear, finally pulling away. You look up at him, eyes wide, as you breathily respond, “Thank you…” Satoru looks down at you, smiling gently as he hold you. He murmurs, “I have a surprise for you, y’know. Think you’ll like it.” Before you can question him, he places a finger right above your lips. He’s considerate; doesn’t wanna ruin your lip combo. “A little into the party. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

The two of you pull away from each other hesitantly, and Satoru kicks at the hay as he grins at you. “Party time, birthday girl. Come on.” The two of you exit the stable, sides brushing as you walk to his house.

Within ten minutes, you regretted insisting on going. Once you entered the ranch, carols of your name and ‘happy birthday’ echoed throughout the large common room. It was decorated in gold and white, with balloons everywhere and a little banner hung up for you. Satoru’s mother gave you a large hug, and wrapped her arms around your waist, steering you around to see the cake she baked you. You were all smiles and beams, immediately falling into her, with Satoru lumbering after, your hand outstretched backwards, clasped in his.

After you saw the cake, which was tri-tiered and your favorite flavor, you were passed around from person to person. You got many hugs, from townspeople you were sure didn’t like you very much, and to be fair; you enjoyed the kind attention. You wished it was your birthday every day.

Until, you got to a certain group of young women. You had graduated with the group, even though they were nasty as hell to you. As they approached you, you knew it wouldn’t be good. Vanessa, a tall brunette with pretty hazel eyes, gave you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen, before pulling you into a hug. “Oh, Y/N! Happy birthday, baby!” She cooed, squeezing you. You swallowed, wrapping your arms around her in turn. “…Thank you, Vanessa.” Once Vanessa pulled away, her two friends, Isabel and Megan, gave you hugs also.

“Ugh, Y/N,” Isabel began, running her fingers through your shiny silk press, “You look so much prettier with straight hair! Is this your real hair?” You give an awkward laugh as you gently remove her hand from your hair, looking around for Satoru frantically. Partygoers heard her comment and turned to tune in, furthering your discomfort.

“Yeah, it’s my real hair, please don’t touch it,” you tell her sweetly, watching as she rolls her eyes a little. “I was just complimenting you! You should wear it like that all the time, it looks so much better than your other hair.” You bristle uncomfortably. Were these bitches being racist? You swallow hard and give her a nod, and a smile.

Vanessa steps forward, eyeing you over before she’s chirping loudly, “And that dress is soooo cute! But it’s kinda tight.. Have you gained weight, or something?” Your smile almost drops, but you manage to keep it up, as you let out a delayed, fake laugh. People are starting to whisper and nudge each other, and immediately, more nosy sons of bitches turn to eye you. You’ve always been a bit thicker — that’s no secret. You didn’t have the skinny white girl genes, no. You were filled in by the time you were 13, and even as a nineteen year old, you had a bit of a plump body. You weren’t overweight or obese; you were perfectly healthy. It was just the way your body was. And the fact that these girls thought they could pick on you about it?

You refused to let it happen on your birthday.

“Oh no,” you cooed gently, mirroring Vanessa’s tone, “I haven’t! But um, are you recovering?” You blink gently at her. Fine, you think mentally, if she wants to put on a show, we can do that.

“From what?” Vanessa chirps hesitantly, eyes narrowing. She didn’t think you knew, huh?

“Those butt injections you got last month!” You answer loudly, putting a hand over your heart. Vanessa’s eyes widened as she looked around frantically, as people slowly began to whisper intently. She wasn’t used to the whispers, it seemed.

You were visiting at the local doctor’s office, when you overheard the doctor’s conversation with Vanessa, she was asking some questions about pain for it. You hurried to the bathroom before you could be seen, keeping the information in your head. From the corner of your eye, you see Satoru making his way from the kitchen. He’s obviously heard what’s going on, and doesn’t look happy.

“I didn’t get no injections!” She claims, trying to take advantage of the situation, “Y/N, how could you spread such a nasty rumor?”

“Huh,” You say, “That’s real funny. So you’re just gaining weight too, hm? We should go to the gym together, do some cardio, you know? You must be eating a lot, if it’s all going to your ass!” You giggle, pushing her shoulder and making it all seem like some joke. She has no choice but to giggle with you.

“You know who I haven’t seen here?” Megan speaks up and immediately, you’re on edge. While Vanessa may be the face of the trio, she’s the one who’s more lethal and intelligent with her words. You’ve learned this too many times from high school. “Your parents, Y/N. Typical Black parents, you know? Never there when their kid needs them.” And more publicly racist. You resist the urge to grab this girl by her throat, and show her what exactly your Black parents had taught you. It isn’t like they’re absent — your father passed when you were a teen, and your mother was a chronic workaholic, struggling to provide for you.

“Crazy,” you hear a monotonous voice go behind you. You know exactly who it is, and you couldn’t be more relieved. In typical country boy fashion, Satoru is behind you, chewing on a toothpick. “Megan, weren’t ‘ya crying to me about how your poor dear ol’ daddy beats on ‘ya? Typical Megan, y’know? Always self-projectin’.” He whistles as he presses his hand to the small of your back, steering you out the ranch, the comments of the party trailing behind him. In the faint throes, you even hear, “That nigga bitch…”

You pretend it doesn’t bother you as Satoru leads you to his barn.

Once you’re comfortably nestled in the warmth of his barn, you let out your frustrations about the racism of the town. Satoru sits next to you, his toothpick still resting in his mouth. He watches you intently, before humming out, “Ya done, doll? Don’t let those assholes ruin yer day. Matter fact…” He got up, heading to his little kitchen. You only watched, still fuming a bit.

“Close yer eyes!” The white haired man yells at you, and you do so obediently, pretty brown eyes fluttering shut. You wait for him, hands folded in your lap. You hear the couch creak a little and something set on the table.

“Open ‘em,” you hear his gravelly voice tell you, and you obey. Your eyes lock on a cupcake, with a single candle in it. You soften considerably, calming down immediately.

“Aw, Satoru..” You whisper gently, placing your hand over his, eyes flickering from his face to the cupcake. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah I did,” he retorts, squeezing your hand. “You didn’t get to eat any of the cake, even though it was yours, and we needed to be alone anyways. Make a wish, honey.”

You close your eyes, leaning to the cupcake.

I wish that Satoru and I are together as long as we live, and even in death, may we stay together.

You blow out the candle then, before sliding the candle out the middle and licking the frosting off of it.

“One more thing,” Satoru says, sliding his hand into his pockets. He pulls out a golden heart-shaped locket from his pocket, dangling it around his finger. “This is for you, birthday girl.” He cracked open the locket, showing the pictures. On one side was a picture from third grade, the first day they met matter of fact — Satoru’s mother had taken it as a memento. On the other side was your graduation picture, where Satoru had his arm wrapped around you and his lips pressed into your forehead. How far you two had come.

He waves the locket in front of your face, as you gasp at the picture. “We haven’t been able to find this picture years, how did you….?” Satoru only grins and shrugs, as if it was nothing at all. In your pure bliss, you throw your arms around him. His arms wrap around your waist in turn, hugging you tightly.

You can feel tears budding in your eyes as you whimper out, “This was so nice of you…! I appreciate it so much, thank you, I love you!” Satoru laughs as he rocks you, before responding, “Shh. It was no biggie. C’mere, let me put it on for ‘ya.”

You pull away gently from each other, and you turn so that your back faces him. He drapes the necklace over your chest, using his knuckles to push your chin up a bit. He fiddles with the hooks a little before getting it right and letting go. You skim your fingers over the locket before turning back around with a smile.

He opened the locket, looking at the picture. “Man. Can’t believe I found photographs of our school, on the day we met.” He smiles a little, as he looks between the two small pictures. His eyes flicker up to you, then back down. You only watch him with softening eyes. Your heart pumps, and that bubbly feeling spreads through you again. He makes you feel so warm. You’re not an idiot, you know exactly what the things you feel are. You weren’t dense; you knew for a long time.

But you can’t bear to say a word before he did. However, you didn’t expect it to be so soon.

Satoru takes a deep breath, his eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. He gathers his courage before softly uttering, "I thought that you were so beautiful… it was love, I guess." His gaze remains fixed on you, his heart hanging in the balance, waiting for your response, hoping that his words have stirred something within you.

You don’t realize what he had said at first, before it registers. You double take, eyes widening as you look at him frantically. “Satoru. Satoru. It was what?” His face is pink as he looks away from you, but you were insistent, crawling closer to him as you plead, “It was what?” Your hands grab his shirt and he whistles, looking away from you.

Finally, he mumbles out, “… Was love, I guess.”

“What kind?” You press, tears bubbling in your eyes once more. It couldn’t be. He looks at you for what feels like hours. “You know what kind, darlin’. Don’t make me repeat myself. In a way I shouldn’t.”

“Say it.” You hiss, crawling into his lap. He spreads his legs immediately, making room for you as you place yourself in front of him, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “Tell me.” One of his hands rests on your hip and the other trails to play with your locket.

He looks almost shy this way, his blue eyes heavy lidded as you request his words. He sucks in an inhale before he’s saying, “I love you, Y/N…. and not as your best friend. I want ‘ya to be my girl. There, said it… Please let me be yours.”

You’re silent. He wants you to be his girl. Your brain is slow to process it, slow to understand it, slow to reciprocate. However, as you reflect upon his desire for you, a wave of emotions starts to wash over you. Confusion is gradually replaced by clarity, hesitation transforms into certainty, and the realization of his affection for you fills your heart with joy. Suddenly, everything seems to make sense, like a complex jigsaw puzzle finally coming together to reveal a beautiful picture.

“Okay.” It’s all you say. Satoru’s eyes widen, as if he was expecting a rejection. Before he can answer, you’re pressing your lips to his, finally taking the initiative for fucking once. When your lips crash against him, it’s like heaven and hell have collided in a fiery, desperate match.

Satoru’s hands grasp at you, desperate, as his tongue pushes its way into your mouth, curling against your tongue. The way you two kiss is messy, and needy, saliva coats your lips, but it couldn’t be better. Satoru pants into your mouth as he runs his hands over your body feverishly.

“Fuck,” he grunts into your mouth, pulling away briefly to adjust his pants as best as possible. “So hard, you got me s’hard, doll. Shit, shit, get up, or ‘m gonna explode..” You can feel his dick, straining against his jeans beneath you. You don’t get up from your spot, and he lets out a groan into your mouth.

Your hands are sliding under his shirt, feeling the firm abs underneath, trying to touch any bit of his skin you can. His hands squeeze the swell of your ass as he nips at your bottom lip, before sliding his lips down to your throat. He begins to kiss your throat before sucking, biting, making sure your skin is covered in dark marks.

You grab his cowboy hat and throw it off, so you’re able to sink your fingers into his white locks of hair, letting out slight moans as his hands move from your ass to your tits. He caresses them through your dress, and you hiccup as he finds your nipples.

“You ain’t even wearin’ a bra?” He asks you, pulling away from the curve of your neck, to look at you. Satoru’s eyes are glazed over, and low. His face is pink, his hair is ruffled, and his lips are swollen, but he’s never looked happier.

You shake your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. “It didn’t look right with my dress…” Satoru only stares at you, before he’s throwing his head back, groaning. “Fuck, I can’t do this. I can’t do this, princess, I need you so bad.” His chest rises and falls so rapidly, and you can feel his bulge pressing up against you as you sit on him.

You need him just as bad as he needs you, the wetness in your panties tells you all you need to know. Satoru is looking at you with those violently blue eyes. You realize that you’ve been holding your feelings back for years, even now — your love for him, your attraction, and your pure, unadulterated desire.

“Please,” he whispers, pressing a small kiss to your lips, “Please let me put it inside you, please, just the tip.. Please, please, please, fuck, it feels like ‘m gonna fuckin’ die, please, baby girl, need your pussy s’bad….” You enjoy the way he’s acting; you’ve never been wanted like this before, and you doubt you ever will.

“Satoru, you don’t have to beg,” you murmur, draping yourself across his body, arms around his shoulders as he palms your ass and sneaks his hand down to cup your clothed heat.

“Know I don’t,” he whispers, fingers pressing against you in a way that makes you lift your hips, and whine a little. “Look at how wet you are, girl. Any more and ya just may flood your panties.” His fingers push your panties to the side and you gasp as the cold air hits your pussy. His other hand hikes up your dress, balling it up in his fist.

“Gonna make you feel good first, doll,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “Relax, ‘nd let Satoru take care of you, mkay?” You nodded feverishly as a finger slid through your plush folds. His finger almost immediately found your clit and swirled around it, causing you to let a little mewl escape your lips. Satoru’s lips were meanwhile pulled into a smug grin at the sound you made. He maneuvered your body, so you were lying back against the couch, legs spread for him.

He tugged your panties down your legs and tossed them somewhere, before pushing the fabric of your dress up and settling between your plump thighs. Without wasting any more time, his finger circled your entrance, teasing you. You huff a little, pouting down at the white haired man, and he grins in response before sliding two fingers into you.

You moan, arching your back as pleasure seeps through you. Satoru’s long fingers reach farther than yours ever could. He smiles at you as he curls his fingers against your walls. “Such pretty moans, good girl,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your thighs, as he begins to pump his fingers inside of you. Your thighs twitch, and you grip at the couch. His fingers are skilled, scissoring and curling, as the sloppy sound of your wetness echoed through the barn. Satoru leaned forward, enclosing his lips around your clit.

The combined effort of his fingers and his mouth had you squirming and whining beneath him. He pressed a hand to your stomach, his movements halting and eyes narrowing as they snapped to you; you know what he was telling you. Stop moving or he’d stop.

You couldn’t take that. You stilled your movements, trying your best to relax as Satoru slowly resumed his ministrations, lapping at your cunt while sliding his fingers in and out of you. His fingers curled against a spot that had your toes curling as you cried out his name. He pressed his tongue flat against your clit, and had another finger pressing into your heat. You let out a squeal at the slight burn, hand flying to grip his hair. “Satoru-! Ah, that’s too much!” He gave you a silencing glare, blue eyes honeyed with lust. His fingers nudged your g-spot, and the whine that left your lips let him know exactly what he had pressed.

His movements all sped up, as you felt your stomach tightening. Between each of your moans was a pant, as you cried of his name. Everytime his fingertips pressed against your g-spot, you felt yourself get closer and closer to orgasm. Mixed with his tongue swirling your clit, you couldn’t take it. Your thinking got fuzzy as the rubber band in your core was pulled farther and farther. “Toru! I-I’m close!” You whimpered, as his quick, skilled movements brought you to your peak. Your eyes rolled back as you gushed all over his fingers, breathing hard. You didn’t even notice, in your stupor, when he replaced his fingers with his tongue, lapping up your essence.

His tongue was flat against your entrance, as he licked from hole to clit and back again. When you finally came to, you were whining all over again, sensitive as Satoru flicked his tongue across your bundle of nerves. You pushed his head, letting out a. “Hold on, ‘m sensitive!” Satoru smacked your hand away, mumbling out, “Shh, doll. Gimme another one.”

He dived back in between your thighs, mouth latched onto your pussy as he pressed his tongue against your hole, fat tongue working itself while he slurped at your essence. A mixture of his spit and your juices dripped down your ass – but he was quick to slide his tongue down, licking that right up.

He was messy with his mouth, unabashedly slurping, sucking, and licking everything you had to offer, the wet smacking noises echoing through the room. You would’ve been embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good.

Before long, you were about to cum a second time, eyes squeezing closed as you gasped and spasmed, letting out a broken cry as another orgasm claimed your body. Satoru was ecstatic, lapping up your cum and guiding you through your high without breaking a sweat.

Once you came down from your high, he pulled away gently, his intense gaze locked on you. His eyes glimmered, pale hair askew as he latched his mouth back to yours. His hands gripped at your dress, yanking at the sleeves to pull them down your arms, before the entire dress was coming down to your waist.

Your lips moved feverishly as you fiddled with the buttons of his polo, and he raised his arms to slide it off. His buff form was revealed, abs firm and his strong arms moving to cocoon you against him. There were gentle words being exchanged between your lips. “So gorgeous, Y/N. Fuuuck, honey, can’t wait to feel your pussy ‘round my dick.” Satoru mumbles as his fingers fumble with his jeans. However, before he unbuttons them, he looks at you. “You sure you want this, sunshine? We can stop here, and keep kissin’. Fuck what I want, ‘kay? What does m’girl want?”

God, you didn’t think that he could get any hotter. But his consideration of your wants and needs make you get even wetter. “Satoru, I want you,” you say gently, one hand pressing to the side of his face. He nuzzles into your touch, eyes softening. “Want you too, sunshine. So much I just might go insane..” He finally unbuttoned those stupid jeans, yanking them down and his boxers with it. His length sprung out, and your eyes popped out of your head.

Satoru was the size that those fake ass dick pills promised, his tip pressing just under his belly button. His tip was mushroom shaped and fat, as pink as his blushed cheeks, and weeping fat beads of precum. His length was a bit on the skinnier side, and although his girth wasn’t anything to fear too much, his length definitely was. His dick was something straight out of porn propaganda.

“Toru, that’s not gonna fit,” you found yourself saying, your eyes flickering from his length to his pretty face in anxiousness. Satoru only leaned down to kiss you, shutting you up. “It’s okay, princess” he whispered sweetly. Even now, as his dick pressed against your stomach, his tip landed slightly above your navel. “Don’t be scared, ‘m gonna take such good care of you,” his kisses went down your neck, to your chest. He kissed around your breasts, before his tongue flicked out to lick your right nipple, hardening it. He turns his head, lavishing the same attention on your left. His hands multitasked, grabbing a pillow and sliding it underneath your back.

His kisses moved to the valley of your breasts, before going down your stomach. He pressed kisses into your love handles, to your stomach, to your cunt, which made you giggle, to your thighs, before he was holding up your legs and kissing up your calves. He even kissed your feet. He traced your stretch marks lovingly, murmuring out, “Only God knows how I’ve waited for this. For you. Fuck, Y/N, you’re just so fucking beautiful. More beautiful than any of the women in this town. Shit, I could cum just lookin’ at you…”

You couldn’t help but simper at his words, face warming as you wrap your legs around his waist. “Please just fuck me already, Satoru.” His tip slid against your clit and you let out a soft whine. “Please, just…” You were silenced by the feeling of him rubbing his tip down your slit, collecting your juices before you felt him pressing against your hole.

You hissed, hands flying up to his shoulders as your nails dug into his skin. To distract you from the burn of him entering you, he began to lather kisses and lovebites across your throat and collarbones. Your hole stretched around his tip, as tears burned in your eyes, the slight pain making you shift uncomfortably.

“It’s okay, baby girl, I got you,” he whispered against your skin, tongue sliding across your throat as he sucked more hickeys onto the expanse of your throat. He pushed his tip in, and once the burn of it faded, he fed you inch by inch of his dick. Your pussy constricted around him, sucking him in greedily as your juices coated his length.

The feeling of him bottoming out inside of you had you letting out a high-pitched whine, eyes rolling back. Above you, Satoru let out a whine identical to yours. “Oh, f-fuck,” he stuttered, his eyes squeezing shut, “Fuck, almost came. You’re so warm, ‘nd wet— You feel so good, baby doll, oh shit.. Your pussy’s grippin’ me so nicely, fuck, I-I can’t take it.. Oh my God, tell me when I can move…”

Satoru was breathing heavily, as he looked down at you, your pretty face contorted in pleasure as his tip nudged against your cervix. Just the feeling of him stretching you out had you seeing stars, euphoria coursing through your veins. When you finally adjusted, you tapped his shoulder, telling him you were ready.

Satoru pulled out, so that only his fat tip was inside of you, before rocking his hips into yours. That first shallow thrust had you release a hiccuped moan, gripping his shoulders. He took this as a positive sign. Satoru’s thrusts were slow, yet deep, and each time his tip was pressed to your cervix.

The feeling of it, thought it hurt some, was extremely pleasureful to you, and a whine of, “Faster, please,” exited your lips. Satoru’s brows furrowed slightly as he grinned. “Alright, darlin’ but when you can’t walk in the mornin’, don’t blame me!” He pulled out a little before pushing his hips into yours. He delivered you those deep strokes, just at a much faster pace.

Your tits bounced, body propelled forward as he held your thighs for stability, his dick stretching you out, stirring up your guts. The angle from the pillow only heightened your pleasure, and each thrust forced out a blissful whine or a whimper of his name from you.

Satoru let out heavy groans, not scared at all to let you know just how good you felt around him. And even better, he leaned down to let husky murmurs of praise fill your ears. “Such a good girl, takin’ me s’good… Like your pussy was made for me. You feel amazing, darlin’, wanna make you cum so bad… You feel good? Please tell me ‘m making you feel good, baby girl…” His voice was breathy and desperate in your ear, as you struggled to form the words he wanted to hear. “Please, baby? S-Shit, let me know how good ‘m making you feel on your birthday.”

His words only drive you crazier, head spinning as you gasp out, “Makin’ me feel s’good, Satoru! P-Please, please, please don’t stop, oh my God!” Satoru cursed under his breath as his hands slid from your thighs to your breasts, squeezing at them. His fingers circled your nipples, before he pulled, twisted and rolled them between his fingers. It only shoved you closer to the edge, as his tip briefly pressed against your g-spot. The brief gasp you gave from it let Satoru’s perceptive ass know, and he angled his hips to hit that spot, instead of your cervix.

The sound of your hips colliding filled your ears, along with Satoru’s raspy moans. Within no time, you were alerting him, “Toru, ‘m gonna c-cum again!” The third orgasm you had in a row, and it seemed like Satoru wasn’t stopping. He chuckled, moving one of the hands on your tits to swirl your clit in rough circles. “Mhm, go ‘head, sweet thing. Let go f’me.”

It pulsed underneath his finger pad, as your third climax seized your body. Your breathing heavy and quick as you let out gasped out, long moans and wails, your pussy clenching around his length as you creamed around him. Euphoria was spreading through you, to every part of your body.

Satoru’s eyes widened as he fucked you through your orgasm; his own was catching up to him, and it had him letting out deep whimpers mixed with his moans.

“Can I cum in you?” He gasped, hands gripping your waist. His nails digging into you so hard, crescent marks were being left on your skin. “Please, baby? Fuck, need to cum s’bad, and I wanna see my cum dripping from your pretty pussy…” He shoved his face into the curve of your neck as he began to beg. “Please, Y/N, wanna feel you around me while I fuckin’ cum, I-I need it, please, you feel s’perfect and I just wanna fill you up and watch it slide out. Wanna pump you full over and over until you’re filled with my babies—“ Satoru was rambling by now as he bucked desperately into you. He let out a shaky whine against your skin as your bodies collided passionately.

Your sensitive body quaked in his hold as he pleaded to cum in you. You couldn’t deny him, not when there were tears budding in his eyes, and his swollen dick was fucking you up like this, and he looked so pretty whining out your fucking name. You gave him a nod, even though your brain was foggy and you could barely care about what you were saying yes to.

Satoru let out a sigh of relief, moaning out, “Thank you, princess, thank you, thank you, love you, I love you—“ The feeling you got when you felt that first spurt of cum fill you was unbelievable. Warmth spread through you, as Satoru’s dick twitched and bobbed inside of you, before he was releasing his thick cum into you.

Just like he said he would, Satoru stuffed you full of his cum. He collapsed against you, face in your titties as you both breathed hard. He pulled out slowly, his dick getting a little soft. In a heartbeat, he was spreading your ass so he could watch his warm cum trickle from your hole.

And just like that, he was hard again.

You watched with dazed eyes as his dick twitched, ready to go again. Satoru grinned at you, tilting his head as he said, “I’d eat my cum out of you right fuckin’ now, but I need to feel you around me one more time.” He scooped you up, maneuvering so he was laying back and you were in his lap again. “For every year you are,” he murmured, his finger trailing down your spine, “Is every round we go. Every position we swap. I can keep up… Can you?”

You knew you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t compete with his stamina. But you nodded your head yes, and lifted your hips anyways as a mix of both of your cum slid down your thigh. “Mhm, baby,” he laughed a little, holding your hips as he guided you. “You can keep up? I’ll have you fucked dumb by round five. Maybe even this round. Hopefully ya last, birthday girl.”

Before you could even respond to his bravado, he pulled you down, spearing you on his length. You let out a squeal, as you clutched his arms. You were still sensitive, and you made sure to whine it loudly. His hands moved to grip your ass, pulling you up and dropping you back down. His tip bumped your cervix s he did so, and you mewled, pressing your face into his chest.

“Nuh uh, sugar, you can last right?” He taunted, even though his breath was shaky. “Ride me. Right now.” He wasted no time with sliding in a joke, “You ride horses so well, I’m sure you can ride mine.”

You bit your lip as you planted your feet into the couch, using your lower body strength to pull your body up. You began to bounce down on him feverishly, immediately setting a fast pace for yourself. Satoru hit all the spots you needed, and you felt your fogged brain saying that you should’ve fucked him much longer ago.

Satoru cupped your ass as you rode him, stuttered breaths leaving him. “Oh, s-shit, baby, yer goin’ so fast—!” He gasped, your pussy clamping down on him like no other. You kept going, ignoring him, as if you were using him. You had something to prove. You purposefully clenched harder around him, intent on making him cum first, to prove he was the one who couldn’t last.

Satoru, unfortunately, quickly picked up on what you were doing. His hands gripped your hips once more as he huffed, “Sweet thing’s got a vendetta. Mm, fine. I’ll bite.” His heavy lidded lapis eyes peered at you as he began to thrust upwards to meet your bounces, tip jamming against your g-spot. The only noises that left your mouth were squeals, the little bit of control you had dissipating.

Satoru quickly regained his control as he fucked up into you, watching as your tits bounced and your eyes rolled back. Your sweat covered bodies merged, and his eyes were fixed on the way his dick slid in and out of you, and the cum coating his length. The noise of him pounding into you seemed to be amplified. For another time, you felt yourself reaching a climax, stomach tightening as your jaw went slack. It was coming so fast, you couldn’t even alert Satoru.

You let out strained moans of pleasure as he continued to fuck into your sensitive pussy, bringing you to the peak of ecstasy for the fourth time. The throbbing sensation in your clit, though slightly painful, only added to the intense pleasure coursing through your body. Each orgasmic wave that washed over you was a testament to the overwhelming pleasure you were experiencing.

Finally spent, you dropped against him, whimpering pathetically as he continued to use your body like a cocksleeve. Tears filled your eyes as he pushed past your sensitivity, fucking into you like a menace. You knew he had stamina, but God, this was insanity. His hand wrapped around your neck loosely, tilting your head up to look at him.

The sight Satoru laid his eyes on was heavenly. Your hair was mussed, starting to sweat out; your makeup was becoming messy from the tears beginning to slide down your face. Your lip combo was long gone, though there were remnants on both his lips and yours. The sight of your tears only fueled him, as he kissed them away. “Thank you for letting me have your body like this, pretty. Pussy was made for me. Just divine, you’re jus’ divine.. Gonna marry you and then ‘m gonna fuck you so much that your body wouldn’t be able to escape pregnancy— You want my babies, don’t you? Say yes, tell me you want me as much as I want you…” Satoru was very obviously close, the trembling and the rambles were a tell tale sign.

You found yourself mindlessly nodding to everything he said, and it wasn’t long before he was shooting another load deep into you. You thought he was done, before he was grabbing your chubby thighs, hoisting your legs up, and locking your body into a full nelson position.

As he drilled his long cock into you once more, it was simply too much for you. You gave in, mind going blank as he slammed into you, filling you to the hilt. Your eyes were glazed over, tears still falling. Your mouth hung open as overstimulated whimpers left your lips. You came a fifth time, but you were so far gone, you didn’t even notice.

“L-Look at you,” Satoru said, his lips pressing against your shoulder, “Too much for you, yeah? Look so pretty like this, sweet girl. Fuck, fuck, fuck, ‘m cummin’ too quick—!” Satoru was overstimulated himself, but that didn’t stop him. As he came a third time, the both of your fluids slathered all over his dick as he dropped you from the nelson, and flipped you onto your hands and knees.

“Need more of you,” he rasped, spreading your ass as he messily spread his cum around your pussy and thighs, before stuffing you full once more. He pressed kisses into your spine, as he gripped your ass, fucking you from behind.

The sex was depraved, as Satoru fucked you like a man starved. You were too far gone, drooling into the couch as he fucked you like you both were dying tomorrow. But, it wasn’t long before he was finally slowing down, heavy balls squeezing as he began to have dry orgasms.

Finally, he pulled out, scooping your barely there, sex-addled body up and carrying you to his bed. He dropped down into bed, you on top of him as he threw the blankets over the two of you.

He pressed kisses to your face, and then your lips, as he whispered, “Even if we die tonight, then I’ll die yours, and you’ll die mine.” Somehow you managed to reciprocate, as exhaustion slowly claimed you. “So then, I’ll die here under you; every night, all night.”

The last thing you heard before you passed out, were Satoru’s whispered love confessions, and promises for the future.

Your honeymoon phase of the relationship seemed to be forever, although things in town got harder. People were more openly racist; vandalizing your home, your father’s grave, and your mother managed to somehow overwork herself to death. You were now alone, in an empty house, and with an empty heart. Save for Satoru.

Where darkness lingered in the corners of your life, he was the light that banished all of it. To escape, he often drove you to Nebraska, far enough but still close. The two of you found an abandoned house on the outskirts of the state. A single two-floor house. You loved it utterly.

Satoru was a bit of a criminal, stealing a bobby pin from your hair and picking the lock. Managing to get into the house, so you could see the interior. It wasn’t like anyone was there to care. When you were there, the two of you cleaned up the house, and pretended like it was your own place. It was the place where you found each other on a dirty mattress on the second floor.

Months passed. Then a year. Satoru turned twenty, then so did you. Like your last birthday, it was spent in love, and in a sex-crazed haze. You two pave your own road, feet weathering the trail to the house in Nebraska, leaving your mark. It’s in the spring, when you two are at the house, and Satoru gets on one knee, pulling out a golden ring with a bright diamond.

“When I came home after graduation, I told my mama I was gon’ marry you,” he said matter of factually, “She asked me if you knew that. I told her no, but you would eventually. So now, I’m askin’ you if you’ll bless me by being my wife.”

You screamed yes so loud, the two of you were sure you alerted others of your presence.

Your engagement angered the town. Although Satoru was a person of color too, they were sure he looked best with a white girl. It got to the point where they got violent with you. Calling you slurs, and being so racist, you became afraid to leave Satoru’s side.

But, it was okay — because you two stuck together, always.

You prepared for your wedding as best as you could in your anxious state. Satoru’s mother even bought you a wedding dress — from one of your favorite brands, Vivienne Westwood. Vivienne made the most beautiful wedding dresses.

However, your hometown was getting overwhelming. You couldn’t help but look over your shoulder at any given moment. Satoru knew it was time to go.

He told his mother that he had to get you out of here — there was nothing but pain for you here. He couldn’t let you live like this. She understood, more than anything. She handed Satoru a wad of cash, telling him to visit soon.

He bought the house in Nebraska. How he found the owner, you never found out. But he bought that fucking house, and you two packed your bags and you never fucking looked back.

Nebraska was nice. You didn’t go into town often because of your anxiety, but Satoru assured you it was fine. You loved your home. You loved your future husband. You were soothed, and nothing could ruin it.

Until one day, Satoru didn’t come home from visiting his mother. You opted out that time, feeling a bit sick, and not up for the long drive. You got the call from his mother. You barely remembered anything but the words, ‘Shooting. Hospital. Coma.’ And you were catching the bus to Alabama.

You never wanted to return home, but you had to. You didn’t let them turn you away or shame you. You joined his mother in the hospital. And soon after you got there, after you held his hand, and sobbed his name, and kissed his face, and as if he was waiting for you, Satoru Gojo passed away.

The story was that Satoru got into an altercation with a group of men who said some horrible things about you. Even when they threatened him with a gun, he didn’t back down. He was always so protective when it came to you, and it killed him. And now, you were the reason that he won’t come home.

The birthday wish you made didn’t come true. Because the love of your life was gone, and you were so alone.

You stayed for his funeral. Open casket. Unlike everyone else, you didn’t wear black. You wore your wedding dress, and a veil. You were a widow, even though you hadn’t even gotten married yet. You never would. His mother held you by the waist, crying silently as she guided you to his casket. And as you leaned down to press a final kiss to his dead cold lips, nobody said a thing to you.

You disappeared soon after, with gentle words to his mother.

You retreated to your house in Nebraska, where you needed him. Months pass, and you need him still. You rot away in that house, plagued by memories. His scent still lingers on his untouched clothes, and sometimes you open the drawers to smell.

His mama calls sometimes, to see if you’re doing well. You lie to her and say that you’re doing fine. When really you’d kill yourself to hold him one more time.

You manage to force yourself to go to town, to buy things. You cry every day, and the bottles make it worse — because he was the only person you weren’t scared to tell you hurt.

And you feel so alone. You feel so alone out here. You feel so alone without him. You’re so alone out here, and you miss him more than anything. Every day, waking up without him warming you, breathing air that he does not share, it breaks you piece by piece. You feel so alone.

More months pass and you turn twenty-one alone. And you realize you can’t continue life like this.

You feel so alone.

On your twenty-first birthday, you put on your wedding dress, the one you never got to walk down the aisle in. You pick up the pills, sobbing as you whimper, “I’m so alone out here without you, baby.” You down the pills.

You remember all of this as you die, life flashing before your eyes. You’re curled up in your bed, now clutching one of his shirts to your chest. It’s like you fall asleep, despite the toxicity causing your body to fail. You finally die.

You wake up in a garden of flowers. Lillies of the valley, to be exact. You look around wildly. Cloudless blue sky, and flowers to be seen for days. You’re in your wedding dress. Is this what the afterlife is like? An endless, calming flower field? A breeze ruffles you. You begin to walk. Time doesn’t seem to pass here, because you can’t tell if it’s been seconds or days.

You know you’re dead, but why are you here?

“Y/N?”

You freeze. You know that voice. Tears fill your eyes, and you turn slowly. There he is. That ruffled white hair, bright blue eyes staring into you. You see the tears that well in his eyes, mirroring yours. “What are you doing here?” He cries, and he’s rushing to you, and he’s gathering you in his arms, cupping your face. You’re shaking your head and sobbing, because it’s him, it’s him and he’s here and you can hold him again.

“What’re you doing here, dream girl?” He sobs and he’s pressing his lips to yours, kissing you as if you’ll fade away. The kiss is salty as you two hold on to each other, tears mingling. When the two of you finally break away, he’s still holding your face, as you sob out, “I was so alone without you, Satoru! I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t live without you!”

He sobs harder and holds you against his chest, which is bloodied. “You killed yourself?” You nod ashamed, but he didn’t yell at you, or judge you. He never, ever has. He holds you, pressing kisses into your face, your hair. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t want to leave you — I held on, I held on until you came, and I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to survive,” he cried into your hair, “Leaving you hurt so much. It hurt more than getting shot did. We were supposed to have so much time. We were supposed to get married and have babies and die together when we old a-and, we didn’t.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you whimper back, as he squeezes you tight, tighter than he ever has. If you were alive, you’d be struggling to breathe. “But I wish you would’ve let it go. Let it go and came home to me.”

Satoru doesn’t respond, instead he’s pulling away to kiss you again. “I wish I did too. I would’ve came back to our house in Nebraska, where the world was empty, save you and I. But at least we’re here. I don’t know where it is, but this is where I’ve been. Waiting for you to come. I just want expecting it so soon.” He sniffles, obviously sad.

“I had nothing left for me,” you whispered, as the two of you lace your fingers together, “I needed you still. I… I was horrible.”

“I visited you in your sleep a lot,” Satoru admitted, as the two of you began to walk. “It was the only time I could. I watched you sleep, all the time. You slept with my shirts. It made me feel good.”

You lean against him, he’s warm and he smells just as though you remember. You two walk, for a while, talking about the future you deserved.

Until you reach a house.

A house identical to your house in Nebraska.

“Well, I’ll be,” Satoru whispered, obviously shocked, turning to look at you. Tears were falling down your cheeks as you smiled, whispering, “Guess you’re stuck with me, even in death.”

“Wouldn’t wanna be stuck anywhere else,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. He pulled a bobby pin out of your hair, and just like old times, Satoru picked the lock to the door.

You two stuck together; in life and death, and you still call home that house in Nebraska.

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jahayla-parker · 10 months

Text

Crazed : Tom Holland x Reader

Descr: 8k wc, A crazed fan breaks into Tom's house when his girlfriend is home and she has to defend herself until Tom's security gets there.

Warnings: curse words, violence, stalker/crazy fan behavior, hostage situation, threats, danger, mentions of a break-in, (minor) injuries, hospital (brief), knife/blade, keys used as weapon.

Y/n rubbed her boyfriend Tom’s shoulders as he pinched the bridge of his nose. She knew he was stressing out over the recent safety concerns that had arisen for the couple. Y/n knew that Tom would handle it; even before the multiple promises he made to do so. But, she still wanted to wipe the frown off his face as he called his security team.

They had recently been made aware that there was an… overzealous fan of Tom’s that posed a risk to the couple’s safety. Tom’s brother and personal assistant Harry, had noticed someone was following them one afternoon. They contacted Tom’s security team immediately and had them look into it.

Allegedly, when the security personnel asked the fan to stop following the couple, things escalated. The fan had made numerous comments that concerned Tom’s security. The first was the fan’s statement on how they were Tom’s one true love; not y/n. The second was when the same fan commented that y/n needed to learn her place and stay away from Tom. Then of course came the standard stalkerish fan remarks such as claiming she knew where the couple had been at any given moment, that she had a shrine of Tom with photos that no one else had seen as she’d taken them herself, and that she was in love with Tom and knew he’d come around and choose her.

It wasn’t like Tom had no former experience with overzealous fans. But this was on a whole other level. The fact that this fan made his own security concerned for y/n, made Tom panic. Between his team's and his own suggestions, Tom had ensured that they always had at least two security guards with them.

Tom felt guilty for having to limit their privacy even more than normal when going on dates, or whenever they simply left the house. But, he refused to let something happen to y/n. Which was why he had to call his security team again today.

Earlier today Y/n had gotten a call from an unknown number. She always ignored calls from unknown numbers. As such, y/n had let the call go to voicemail. However, when she checked her voicemail, y/n felt the same panic Tom had been experiencing.

The fan who Tom had been worried about for several weeks by then had somehow found y/n’s personal phone number. Y/n knew it wasn’t super rare for celebrities and their friends and family to have their personal information leaked. But, the message that the fan left was very troubling.

The girl had threatened to harm y/n if she didn’t break up with Tom. She even went so far as to show she had the address of y/n’s work; as ‘proof to take her seriously’. The fan also had the address of y/n’s last residence. Y/n and Tom began living together months ago. But, technically y/n’s old apartment was still in her name as the lease wasn’t up for another month and a half.

When y/n told Tom about the voicemail, he immediately asked her to play it for him. His fury and fear skyrocketed as he heard the passion behind the fan’s voice. He couldn’t believe this was happening to begin with, much less to this extent. Tom was adamant something had to be done, starting with calling his security and demanding increased protection for y/n.

“We need to increase y/n’s security,” Tom ordered immediately upon his lead security officer answering his call. He felt y/n rest her head on his shoulder, rubbing his arm to try and calm him. Tom crooked his neck and placed a soft kiss to y/n’s head as he listened to his security guard’s response.

“No, you don’t understand,” Tom groaned, standing up from the couch. He began pacing their living room as he tried to keep himself in check. He couldn’t understand why his security wasn’t just listening to him. Y/n needed more security, immediately. “I’m going to send you something,” Tom said, pulling the phone from his ear just long enough to forward the threatening voicemail.

“Tommy,” y/n whispered as Tom put the phone back up to his ear as he waited on a response. She smiled warmly at him when he looked her way. Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “breathe please”.

Tom nodded in response to y/n’s request. He took a few deep breaths as he faintly heard the voicemail being played in the background. Tom hummed as he heard his security guard call for another officer to look into the voicemail. “See?” Tom asked in frustration, “she needs more security”.

Y/n watched as Tom nodded along to whatever his security was suggesting. She sighed in relief at seeing his lessening worry. She didn’t know what they were telling Tom, but it was helping. Y/n kissed Tom’s neck right under his earlobe as she waited for him to end the call and update her.

“Tom, look, I know you’re worried, but-” y/n sighed. Tom wanted her to not go in to work today. To be fair, it was a suggestion from his security when he called them last night, but Tom jumped on board with the idea without hesitation.

Tom frowned. “You’re not going to stay home?” He asked, his voice sad and eyes worried. “Please?” Tom requested, squeezing y/n’s hand.

Y/n pursed her lips. “I have work, T,” she argued softly.

“I know,” Tom agreed. “And I’m sorry, I dragged you into this -".

Y/n shook her head, “no. This isn’t on you Tom. I’ve told you that”. She sighed, “but, that doesn’t mean I can just stay stuck at home all day every day until this...overzealous fan chills out”.

“Overzealous?!” Tom huffed. “Darling, she’s bloody crazy!” He exclaimed. “This isn’t some slightly obsessed fan, she’s insane and she wants to hurt you.”

Y/n bit her lip and nodded. He was right. The voicemail had truly scared her. And she knew Tom knew that. Even if he hadn’t already been protective before, he certainly would’ve become so upon seeing how much it freaked her out.

“Just for today?” Tom pleaded. “I’m already working on a more long-term solution,” he assured her.

Y/n sighed softly as she thought it over. She didn’t have a ton to do at work today, so perhaps it wouldn’t be the end of the world. “Okay, if it will make you happy, I’ll stay home today,” she accepted.

Tom grinned and pulled y/n in for a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he gushed. “I know it’s not ideal, but I’ll try to come home for lunch, and-" Tom rambled.

Y/n giggled. She rubbed Tom’s chest as she leaned back. “Handsome, you don’t need to do that,” she smiled. “Just focus on your scenes and rest between them, we both know you haven’t been doing that much. Hmm?”.

Tom nodded, he’d been spending most of his time between takes and scenes getting on his security about finding out who this crazy fan was and doing whatever was needed to stop them. “Okay, but,” he replied, smiling, “I’m still going to call during my lunch and check-up”.

Y/n hummed lovingly, stroking Tom’s cheeks tenderly. “You have a deal, sweetheart.”

“Okay, so, you’ll arm the security system after I leave?” Tom asked y/n.

Y/n nodded, “yes”.

“And, you have Jones’s number saved, right?” Tom wondered as he mentally made his way through his checklist. Jones was one of his security guards and Tom had requested that he be on call nearby in case something happened. Or if y/n simply felt scared that it could/would.

“Saved and set as a favorite for easy access,” y/n promised. She neared her boyfriend and set her hands on his shoulders. “Everything is in place honey.”

Tom took a shaky breath and nodded. He really didn’t want to leave her alone, but he had to go to set. He was nearly done with filming and then they’d be able to go wherever. Y/n had reminded him of that when he considered taking the day off. The sooner he was done, the sooner they could go back to Europe -for at least as long as it took until the fan was taken care of.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious about y/n being home alone. But, at his security pointed out, the fan had given the address for y/n’s old apartment, her job, and has been seen on set before. This was the safest place for her. As far as they are aware, there was no reason to believe the fan has knowledge of this apartment nor that y/n and Tom even lived together.

“I’m just…” Tom sighed. He knew he was going overboard in his preparations. But he couldn’t help it, he needed to know y/n would be safe.

Y/n gave Tom a quick kiss. “Worried, sweet, adorable, I know,” she grinned. “But you’re also about to be late,” y/n giggled playfully. “So, go, get there safely, kick ass on your scenes, and we’ll talk at lunch?”

Tom smiled and nodded, holding y/n to his chest for another hug. “Alright love, I’ll call you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too,” y/n said. She pulled back from the hug and kissed Tom’s forehead. “Let me know when you get to set,” she added as Tom made his way to his car. Y/n waved goodbye before she closed the door.

Y/n quickly armed the security system. She sighed to herself before looking around as she tried to decide what to do on her unplanned day off. Y/n walked to the bedroom to change into pajamas and grab some large and comfortable blankets.

When y/n returned to the living room, she found Tom had texted her saying he’d made it to set. She smiled and sent a quick reply before settling herself on their couch. Y/n flicked the television on and scrolled through their digital movies until she landed on Uncharted. She smirked to herself and sent a photo of her movie choice to Tom before she pressed play and relaxed under her blankets.

“You okay?” Harry asked, squinting at his brother. “You seem tense and you keep saying the wrong lines,” he pointed out. Harry was not just Tom’s brother but also his personal assistant and therefore it was his job to see to whatever was bothering him. “What’s going on?”

Tom sighed and ran a hand down his face, wincing as he realized he realized he’d just messed up the makeup the crew put on him. “It’s just…” he mumbled, looking around the set before pulling his brother to the side. “You know that crazy fan?” He asked. When Harry nodded, Tom continued. “Well, they get y/n’s number and left her a threatening message”.

Harry’s eyes widened. “Is she okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I mean, she was when I left. And, Jones hasn’t reached out to say that’s changed… But, I just…. It’s hard to clear my mind and focus,” Tom admitted.

“I get that mate, but you can’t know what’s going on if you don’t ask,” Harry said. “So, instead of stressing for likely no reason, why don’t you text her between scenes and see what she’s up to?“ he suggested.

Tom smiled and hugged his brother. “That’s a great idea mate, thank you!” He held out his hand and waited for Harry to pass him his phone.

Harry chuckled and quickly took Tom’s phone from his pocket. “Here ya are,” he said with a playful eye roll.

“Oh,” Tom chuckled. He felt his cheeks flush as he looked at the last message from his girlfriend.

“Ewww, if that’s a sext, you need to get better at hiding your reaction,” Harry groaned.

Tom glared at Harry as he shook his head. “No!” He scolded. “Apparently she’s having a movie day…” Tom mumbled bashfully.

“Okay? And…?” Harry questioned.

Tom tilted his phone so Harry could see the text thread. His blush darkened as his brother laughed and shook his head at y/n's choice of movies for the day.

“You two are gross,” Harry teased. “Ready to try this scene again now?” He asked, trying to guide Tom back to set.

Tom smiled to himself. He quickly replied to y/n’s text and passed his phone back to Harry. “Yeah, I am now,” Tom nodded.

Y/n yawned as she rose from the floor. She’d made a blanket fort earlier to watch movies in. But now, her legs were numb and tingly from the position she’d been in. Y/n tiredly made her way to the kitchen for some snacks. While she hadn’t done much today, she was exhausted. It seemed doing nothing let her body realize how tired she’d been lately.

Y/n groaned lightly upon seeing that Tom had left a nearly empty milk carton in the fridge. She had just gotten groceries, not knowing they needed milk since the n carton was still in the fridge. Y/n made a mental note to get more milk tomorrow, or tonight after Tom got home from set. She poured the last of it in her cereal bowl before going to throw the carton away.

Only, as she went to place the carton in the garbage, y/n noticed it was full. She quickly calculated what day it was and realized it was garbage day. Y/n decided to go put on some slippers so she could take the garbage out.

Y/n returned to the kitchen and tied the trash bag closed. She smiled to herself knowing Tom wouldn’t have to deal with taking the bag out tonight when he got home and instead could relax. It was the least she could do since she knew he was worrying about her more than usual today.

Y/n disarmed the security system so that her opening the back door wouldn’t trip the alarm. That was the last thing Tom needed while trying to focus on his job. She was careful though to shut the door behind her and lock it so no one could enter while she was walking to the alley to dispose of the bag. Y/n figured it was overkill, but she knew Tom would be happier knowing she’d done it.

Y/n was sure to be quick with throwing the bag in the can outside. She smiled when she noticed their neighbors’ cans hadn’t been picked up yet; she hadn’t missed pickup. Y/n cautiously looked around before walking back to her apartment.

Y/n felt some anxiety as she unlocked her back door, feeling like someone could sneak up behind her. As a result, she quickly rushed inside and locked it again. Y/n let out a sigh and decided to refocus on her movie day, designating it as a seemingly needed distraction. She grabbed her bowl of sugary cereal with little milk and headed back to her blanket fort in the living room.

Y/n paused the movie, having thought she heard something in the kitchen. She peered into the kitchen doorway from her seat and didn’t see anything. Y/n wanted to go back to her movie, but her gut told her something wasn’t right.

Y/n elected it was safest to fully check on the sound she thought she heard. So, she grabbed her phone, pulling up the favorites section of her contacts as she anxiously made her way to the kitchen. She stopped halfway there, realizing she didn’t have anything to protect herself with. Unfortunately, her ideal choice of weapon would be found in the kitchen. Y/n settled for her keys, holding them in her other hand as she resumed her quest to find the source of the sound she’d heard.

A gasp escaped y/n’s mouth as she entered the kitchen. There was a pile of broken glass underneath the back door on the far side of the room. Y/n didn’t see anyone in the room but knew this wasn’t a good sign. She hadn’t been wrong about having heard a sound, nor about the need to check on it. And, considering the broken glass had come not too long after the voicemail incident, y/n was worried they were related.

Y/n didn’t want to take her eyes off the kitchen in case someone appeared, but she suspected she should call Jones. She blindly tried to pull up his number as she stared at the back door. Y/n cautiously walked towards the knife block, hoping to grab a better weapon than her keys. Except, before y/n could get to even the halfway point, someone’s hand reached in through the broken glass on the door and unlocked the handle.

Y/n looked around for an alternative weapon since she was too far from the knife block. But, she quickly ran out of time as the person had flung the door open and entered her apartment. Y/n’s eyes widened and she began to step back. She wanted to run but she didn’t want to aggravate the girl before her. Plus, the safest way to run would be to run outside, but the girl was blocking that door.

The intruder was wearing a homemade Tom Holland shirt, making it even more obvious she was the stalkerish fan. The girl’s hair and makeup was overly done up, as if she was going out on a date or to an event. She was glaring aggressively at y/n as she walked further into the kitchen.

Once y/n sensed she’d backed up enough to make it to the doorway to the living room, she turned and bolted from the kitchen. She scolded herself as she realized her blanket fort in the living room now provided a large obstacle, blocking her from easy access to the front door. Before y/n could decide if she could crash through the mess of blankets and furniture supporting them, she heard the fan’s loud footsteps running after her.

Y/n sharply turned the corner and started to the stairs. She looked down at her phone as she ran, clicking on Jones’ contact. Just as y/n’s finger went to press call, she felt a hand on her ankle. She screeched as she tugged her foot away and tried to stumble up the rest of the stairs.

Y/n kept running up the stairs as the fan angrily screamed her name. She once again tried to call Jones, only this time she tripped on one of Tom’s shoes that had been left on the staircase. In her attempt to not lose her balance and fall down the steps, y/n used her hand to push herself back up. Only, this caused her phone to slip from her hands and tumble down the stairs. Y/n fell to the ground as she turned to grab the device. Except, she wasn’t quick enough.

Y/n silently watched in terror as her lifeline bounced past the crazed fan on the stairs. She froze as she saw the glint of the knife the fan had in her hand. Y/n swallowed thickly and decided her best bet was to try and lock herself in the bathroom and scream; hoping the neighbors would hear and call the police. She quickly stood back up and turned around. “HELP!” Y/n shouted, hoping by chance a window was open.

“I just want to talk!” The fan replied, bouncing up the steps after y/n.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Y/n yelled back, finally mounting the stairs. She rushed towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. A painful scratch on the back of her right shoulder caused y/n to stop. Y/n knew instantly from the way there were four simultaneous scratches that the fan had used her acrylic nails to scrape at y/n.

Y/n hissed in pain and spun around to try and fight off the fan. She fortunately still had her keys in her fist. As such, she lunged forward and dug them against the fan’s face. Y/n used the fan’s shock to turn and run the rest of the way to the bathroom.

As y/n tried to shut the bathroom door, she was blocked by the fan’s foot. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” she shouted, trying to shove the girl’s foot out of the way. “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!”

“JUST LET ME TALK!” The fan argued, pushing against the bathroom door.

“I DON’T WANT TO TALK!” Y/n groaned. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!” she asked, slamming the door repeatedly against the fan’s leg as the girl banged on the other side of the bathroom door.

“YOU STOLE MY ONE TRUE LOVE!” the fan screamed, the knife stabbing the door.

Y/n flinched backward as the knife sliced into the thin wooden door separating her from the crazy fan. During y/n’s brief reaction, the fan shoved the door open. Y/n fell backward onto the ground. She shouted again in desperation, praying someone heard her.

The fan stood over y/n with a furious expression. “YOU. STOLE. TOM. FROM. ME.” She seethed, leaning closer to y/n as she was flat on her back against the bathroom floor.

Y/n lifted her arms over her head to shield her face. “GO AWAY!” she shouted, kicking at the fan. Y/n gasped as the fan grabbed ahold of y/n’s hair. She used her keys to scratch the fan’s arm of the hand she was holding y/n with.

“STOP FIGHTING ME!” The fan complained, tugging on y/n’s hair. She used her other hand to try and pry the keys from y/n’s hand.

Y/n stared at the fan in bewilderment. “YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY!” She cried, continuing her kicking and scratching. Y/n faintly heard her phone ringing from the other room. She silently pleaded with the universe for it to be Tom checking on her. If it was, she knew he’d send security over if she didn’t answer.

The crazed fan continued to fight with y/n until y/n spat at her in an attempt to get the girl to back up enough for y/n to get off the floor. The fan glared and hissed at y/n. “THAT’S IT!” She shouted, grabbing the knife from where she’d set it on the bathroom counter; out of reach from y/n. She dropped to her knees and placed the blade against y/n’s throat.

Y/n gulped as terror shot though every fiber of her being. She could keep using her keys, especially now that the girl was close enough for y/n to jab them into her eyes. Only, the knife against her throat made y/n worry the fan wouldn’t hesitate to push the blade into her as a response to such an attempt.

“Drop it, or I’ll make you regret it,” The fan threatened. She smirked when y/n shakingly let go of the keys.

“Okay…” y/n mumbled, wincing as her neck grazed against the knife’s blade as she spoke. “Y-you wanted to t-talk?” She asked rhetorically. “W-we can talk,” y/n offered. Hopefully, she could keep the fan talking long enough for help to reach her.

“No!” The fan scoffed. “I don’t want to talk,” she snarked.

Y/n tried to lean back from the blade, the firm tile of the bathroom floor not allowing her much relief. “B-but, you said-,” y/n argued.

“That was before this!” The fan shouted. She raised her non dominant hand, letting go of y/n’s hair.

Y/n noticed the blood dripping from the fan’s arm. She looked back up at the fan with fearful eyes. “Then… wha-what do you want?” Y/n asked, trying to slide backwards on the tile so she could at least use the wash to sit herself up.

“STOP MOVING YOU STUPID BITCH!” The fan scolded. “I love that man, but I swear he’s an idiot, I don’t how you tricked him into thinking he loves you, but I’m going to help him see the truth.”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she froze. She didn’t know what else there was to do at this point. She’d tried to fight but was out armed. She tried to scream but no one heard. She tried to call security but her phone fell. The only thing left was to try and get the crazy fan to drop her guard slightly.

“I… I… I’m sorry… I…” y/n lied, trying to appear weak and like the fan had cracked her. “What can I d-d-do?” She pleaded with fake tears. “H-how can I h-help? Please, I’ll do anything,” y/n fibbed.

“You- you want to help me?” The fan questioned hesitantly.

Y/n nodded, wincing as the blade scratched her skin. “I.. I had my fun…” she mumbled, hating herself for even lying about it. “I… you’re clearly better for him..”.

“Really?” The fan smiled. “You admit I’m better for Tom?” She asked dreamily.

Bingo. Y/n nodded faintly again, not wanting to say it.

The fan seemed to pick up on y/n’s reasoning. “Say it,” The fan barked.

“W-what?” Y/n questioned.

“Say that I’m better for Tom, that he’d be happier with me,” The fan ordered.

Y/n swallowed, the knot on her throat hitting the blade of the knife still pressed against her. She felt nauseous and her eyes prickled with tears. Tom was the actor, not y/n. But, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“Y-you’re better for Tom,” y/n mumbled. She hoped her shaky voice and watery eyes came across as fake remorse and sorrow for the fan rather than the fear and guilt she felt. When the fan stared at y/n expectantly, y/n fought the desire to tremble as she stared back in terror. “H-he… To-Tom,” y/n corrected herself not wanting to further upset the girl by being vague, “Tom would be happier with you”.

The fan smirked with pride. She tilted her head mockingly at y/n. “I’m glad you finally see it,” The fan commented. “Now, we just need to work on what you’ll say when he gets here.”

“What? He’s-he’s not coming,” y/n stated fearfully. She hoped she was right. She wanted Tom to call security, but she didn’t want Tom to get himself caught up in this dangerous situation.

“Of course he’s coming. He thinks he loves you,” the fan sighed. “He’s wrong, of course.” The fan rolled her eyes. “But no worry, because once we show him that you don’t actually love him like he deserves, he’ll choose me, his true love,” she grinned.

Y/n tensed. “S-show him… That I-“ she mumbled.

“You’ll see. You’re going to tell him that you don’t love him,” The fan explained.

“Or…” y/n whispered, her voice cracking. She knew she’d likely lost her ruse, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to be forced to lie to Tom; especially about this.

“Or, I’ll remove you from the picture myself,” the fan warned. “Then he’ll finally be all mine,” She smiled.

Y/n willed herself not to cry, she had to figure out a way out of this. There was no doubt even if y/n didn’t make of it, the girl would kill Tom too once she saw Tom wasn’t going to fall in love with her the way she thought. Y/n refused to let that happen. She needed to get her and Tom out of this.

Tom ran his hand down his face as he tried dialing y/n’s number again. He’d tried twice already with no response. Granted, they were back to back, so if she was busy with something, there’d been little time to finish and answer the phone. But surely, by him calling a third time, y/n would get the seriousness behind his calls and drop whatever she’d been doing.

Tom felt his whole body go numb as his third call went to voicemail. He closed his eyes as his fear reached an all time high. He looked around to tell someone he had to leave but didn’t see Harry in the hall. Tom didn’t want to waste anymore time so he decided to just leave.

Tom ran to the set door and grabbed his jacket, yanking his keys out before dashing out the door. He threw open his car door and jumped in. He quickly dialed Jones’s phone as he sped out of the parking lot. Tom sighed when Jones didn’t answer, maybe he was already with y/n then.

Tom was only seconds from their street when Jones called him back. “Is y/n okay?! Is she with you?!” He asked after hitting accept. Tom felt a chill rush through him when Jones stated he had no idea what Tom was talking about.

Tom quickly took the corner, speeding even more as he drove closer to his apartment. “Just meet me at my house, NOW!” He shouted as he pulled into the driveway. Tom vaguely noticed Jones commenting that he and another officer were on their way.

When he threw open the front door and didn’t hear an alarm go off, Tom felt his tears rising even more. He clumsily rushed past the blanket fort y/n had made in the living room. “Y/N?! LOVE?!” Tom yelled, moving further into the apartment.

Tom glanced in the kitchen to see if the back door showed any signs of damage. Since the front door was still locked and closed, he hoped he was overreacting. Maybe y/n was just taking a nap.

Tom’s tears fell down his cheeks as he found the broken glass and open back door. “No, no, no, no, no,” he mumbled. He rushed back to the living room. “Please,” Tom whimpered.

Tom went to go up the stairs, stopping when something cracked under his foot. He slowly raised his leg and looked down. He winced as he noticed it was y/n’s phone. Tom lifted it up and saw she’d pulled up Jones’s contact. He felt his heart drop as he faintly heard a struggle upstairs.

Tom threw y/n’s phone down and bolted up the staircase. “Y/N!!” He screamed, taking the stairs three at a time. “PLEASE ANSWER ME!” He pleaded breathily as he reached the top. Tom froze as his head snapped towards the bathroom.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Tom belted, sprinting to the end of the hall. “HEY!” He yelled, going to pull on the girl standing over his girlfriend. Tom’s breath hitched as he saw the blade pressed against y/n’s throat.

Tom froze as he stared in fear. He could see the terror and distraught in y/n’s eyes as she was pinned to the ground at knifepoint. Tom breath was shaky as his hands were fisted at his side. He tried to shoot his girlfriend a remorseful look, uncertain if she could see it from her angle. And then, he turned his eyes towards the girl holding her hostage as his eyes lit with fury.

“Back. Away. From. Her. Now.” Tom seethed, his jaw tight as he stared down the crazy fan.

“Tom! Oh my gosh,” The fan gushed. “Hi! Sorry for the mess, Uhh,” she giggled, “not to worry, I’m sure y/n will help clean it up after”.

Tom squinted harshly at the girl. “After? After what?” He asked dreadfully. He tried to look around the girl to see how y/n was doing. His eyes widened upon seeing drops of blood on the white tile flooring. Tom glanced back at the fan, “please. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Take it!” He pleaded.

“Is it money?” Tom questioned, “you can have it. Call my brother and he’ll help get it all out from the bank for you”.

Y/n tried to speak, but her voice was muffled as the fan pressed the flat edge against her more forcefully in warning. She squirmed and debated whether she should try and fight the fan off again now that Tom was here.

“Y/n,” Tom whimpered. “Don’t, please,” he begged, “I’ve got this”. Tom looked back towards the fan with his hands held up. “Just call him, his name is in my phone-".

“Harry, duh. I know your brother’s name, silly,” the fan laughed. “I know all their names! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?!” She shook her head in disbelief.

Tom tried to resist looking confused as he slowly nodded. “Okay…” he mumbled, “so… then uhh,.. Yeah, call him and he’ll get you however much you want. It’s all yours. Just, let y/n go, please”.

“I don’t want your money,” the fan tsked.

“You.. you don’t?” Tom sighed in frustration. “Then wh-what do you want?” He asked hopelessly. “Merch? Harry can get that too. Ummm autographs? Tell me what to sign. Umm, do you want-“ Tom rambled, trying to find a solution.

The crazed fan pouted. “I don’t want anything from you babe,” she answered. “Relax, you don’t have to do anything Tommy bear.”

Tom’s breath wavered as he tried to keep his composure. “Then… then wh-why is my girlfriend on the-?” He stopped himself as the fan glared and turned to y/n, gripping the knife tighter. Tom realized his mistake; this fan claimed in her message that she thought she was his one true love.

“Ex,” the fan hissed, turning back to Tom. “Your ex-girlfriend,” she corrected.

Tom swallowed tensely. Even though the statement was false, it didn’t sit well with him. Even more concerning though was that he had no idea where the fan was going with all of this if she already decided y/n was his ex.

“Don’t worry sweetie,” The girl sighed with what sounded like sympathy. “You’re about to hear why that’s a good thing,” she said. “And I’ll be here to help you through it after.”

Tom opened his mouth to ask what exactly the girl meant when suddenly she was ordering y/n to sit up. He flinched forward instinctively when y/n struggled to get into a seated position. Tom only stopped himself when the fan pressed the knife closer to y/n’s skin, grazing it slightly. Ironically, he wanted to move towards y/n even more after that in order to get the knife away from her, but he knew any movement on his behalf could make things drastically worse in seconds; before he would have time to stop it.

Y/n rested her head against the wall of the bathroom. Her cheek brushed against the toilet paper holder installed beside her on the wall. She couldn’t get herself to look at Tom knowing what the fan was about to make her do. The fan had warned/instructed y/n on it prior to Tom’s arrival.

“Okay, speak,” The fan ordered. She moved infinitesimal to the side so Tom could see y/n clearly.

Y/n closed her eyes and shook her head. She no longer cared about the pain that came with such movement. Y/n felt her tears stream down her face as she tried not to shake. Her stomach was in knots and all she wanted to do was throw up.

“NOW!” The fan shouted, her anger rising at y/n’s lack of cooperation.

Tom flinched at the sudden outburst. He kept his eyes focused on his terrified girlfriend. He watched as her eyes opened and he nodded for her to comply with whatever the fan was saying to do. “Y-y/n, it’s okay, just say it,” Tom pleaded softly.

“See, Tom wants the truth,” the girl remarked. “Now,” she glared at y/n, “tell him”.

Y/n whimpered as she held eye contact with her boyfriend. She saw him silently begging her with his eyes to just do it. Y/n sniffled as she closed her eyes. “I… I… I can’t,” she resisted.

“Do it or I swear!” The girl screeched.

Tom saw the wild look in the girl’s eyes and his fear increased. “Y/n,” he whispered. “I.. I want to hear the truth,” Tom mumbled, playing along with whatever the fan was going for.

Y/n squeezed her eyes tighter and shook. She didn’t want to do this. “I… I don’t….” Y/n mumbled, stopping when the fan yelled for her to use full sentences. “I used you,” She lied.

The words tasted vile as y/n spoke her instructed words aloud. “I.. I don’t love you.” She cried, her resulting movement causing the edge of the blade to seep into her skin. “I-I-I never did. I never l-loved you,” y/n repeated as she’d been told to. She felt her body go limp in defeat after uttering the false but nonetheless hurtful words to Tom.

Tom knew what y/n was saying wasn’t true. But, he could see how badly it hurt her to just repeat them. Nonetheless, he knew he had to play along to get the crazy fan to let y/n go. Fortunately, Tom was already crying.

“O-oh,” Tom whispered with pretend shock. “I… I thought…” he sighed, stepping back in hopes the fan would follow him.

“It’s okay,” the fan soothed. “It’s okay Tommy bear, I’m here for you.” “You don’t need her, I can show you what real love is,” she promised.

Tom noticed the fan had moved closer to him, further from y/n. She was still between the two of them with the knife, but it was no longer at y/n’s throat. Tom wiped his eyes dramatically with a frown. “But… I just…. I can’t believe…” he murmured, taking another few steps down the hall.

The fan sighed. “I know, it’s cruel,” she agreed, “but, aren’t you glad to find out before it was too late?”

Tom shrugged as he yet again moved back some, the fan unconsciously following him. He tried to shoot y/n a sign to be ready to run when the girl eventually exited the bathroom, but y/n wasn’t looking at him. He sighed and quickly improvised. “It’s just…y/n,” Tom whimpered, the fan pouting as he seemingly cried over y/n’s ‘declaration’.

Y/n looked up at hearing Tom say her name. She noticed the way he immediately made eye contact with her and then shifted his gaze to the floor. Y/n looked around and realized the crazy chick and Tom had stepped further into the hall. She was no longer at knifepoint.

Y/n quietly slid her hand toward the keys she’d abandoned earlier. She mentally thanked the girl for being stupid enough to not kick them away. Once she had the keys in reach, y/n took a deep breath as she thought of a game plan. She had to be careful, she didn’t want Tom getting stuck in the crossfire or for the fan to flip out on him in retaliation.

Y/n glanced back up at Tom as she heard him still mumbling about his shock over her statement. In doing so, she noticed a shadow in the staircase. Something she assumed the fan hadn’t seen due to staring crazily at Tom. Y/n took one last deep breath before she silently moved for the keys.

Y/n held the keys in her hands and tried to give Tom a warning glance. She then got onto her knees and leaned forward until she dug the keys into the girl’s leg. Y/n nearly vomited at the force she had to use to puncture the girl’s leg more than just a scratch. But, it was enough for her to get the girl to spin away from Tom.

As the fan turned on y/n, Tom rushed forward to try and grab the knife.

Y/n threw herself back to the ground as she prepared for the knife to contact her.

Before Tom could reach the crazy girl, he heard a buzzing sound and the girl fell to her knees, the knife hitting the ground beside y/n. He snapped his head behind him and saw his security guards standing there, one of whom had tased the fan.

Tom tried to run to y/n but one of the guards stopped him. The one with the taser sidestepped him, likely going to grab the crazy girl. But Tom pushed past both of them and ran to the bathroom. He jumped over the spasming fan in the doorway and fell to his knees beside y/n.

Tom sighed as he saw Y/n was still hunched over, waiting for the impact. “I-It’s just m-me, love,” he whispered tenderly before cautiously placing a hand on her back. When she flinched, he pulled his hand back. But, as y/n turned to look up at him with tears in her eyes, he pulled her to his chest.

“Shhhhh I’ve got you,” Tom cooed, rocking y/n lightly. “You’re safe.” “I’m so sorry”. He repeated these words and similar sentiments as they both cried and held onto each other. Tom faintly heard his security taking the girl away, but he didn’t look away from y/n.

“T-t-To-T-To-“ y/n mumbled, tears still flowing down her face.

“Shhh, you don’t have to talk,” Tom assured her, delicately wiping her cheeks. “I’m here, it’s okay now.”

Y/n shook her head as another sob left her body. “I-I… I didn’t mean it!” She cried. “I swear, T-Tom. I didn’t mean any of what s-she-“.

Tom frowned and pulled y/n back to his chest. He rested his lips on the top of her head as he sighed. “I know darling, I know,” he told her. “I know she made you say it,” Tom acknowledged.

Y/n fisted Tom’s shirt as she cried into his chest. “I … I didn’t… I didn’t want to say it…” she cried. “I didn’t mean it. I swear. I didn’t mean it.” Y/n repeated.

Tom listened respectfully as y/n kept repeating herself. He pressed loving kisses to her scalp as he waited for her to calm down. After a few minutes, Tom began replying with a quiet, “I know” each time y/n promised she hadn’t meant what she said.

Tom didn’t know how long this continued. To him it felt like an eternity having to hear y/n’s choked sobs and needless apologies. But, he noticed she suddenly went quiet. Tom cautiously cupped y/n’s face and tilted it so he could see her eyes.

“I love you,” y/n promised. She gazed up into Tom’s eyes and sniffled. “I love you.”

Tom smiled softly at y/n before giving her a quick kiss. “I love you too,” he whispered.

Y/n took Tom’s face in her hands and needily pulled him in for a longer kiss. She closed her eyes as she sunk her fingers into his hair and held him close. Y/n felt a few more tears leave her eyes as she savored the taste of Tom’s lips.

“Are you hurt?” Tom asked when they pulled back, resting his forehead on y/n’s.

“I.. I don’t think so,” y/n mumbled.

“I...-there was… is…blood on the floor,” Tom argued worryingly.

Y/n pulled back and looked over at the spots Tom was referencing. “Oh, I.. I think that’s hers,” she admitted. “I kinda tore up her arm before you got here,” y/n said, eyeing her keys.

Tom hummed and smiled faintly. “I’m so p-proud of you,” he told y/n. He saw y/n’s disagreement and shook his head. “You kept yourself alive until help could come,” Tom argued. “I s-saw you tried to call Jones, you ran, you fought back, you did what you needed to do to survive.”

Y/n sniffled. “I didn’t want to say that… I shouldn’t have-“.

Tom sighed. “I know you didn’t, and I’m sorry you had to. But that’s just it, you had to,” He pointed out. “I know you didn’t mean it. I’m not hurt or mad. I’m thankful you did what you needed to do. I’m thankful you were so strong,” Tom whimpered lightly.

Y/n flattened her lips and nodded. “I’m just glad you’re here. Thank you for c-coming for me.”

“Always. Now, are you sure-” Tom began, stopping suddenly. He abruptly stood up and carefully pulled y/n up with him. “Your neck,” he muttered, gently tilting her chin up for a better view.

“Shit,” Tom hissed, upset he’d momentarily forgotten about seeing the knife slice y/n’s neck. He eyed the thin line with a deep frown. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

Y/n huffed. “Tom, please, I just… I just wanna lay down and sleep,” she cried.

Tom sucked in his lips and nodded in understanding. “Okay. You will,” he promised. “Just after you get that cut looked at,” Tom declared. “Don’t worry, I’m going with you,” he said upon seeing the fear return to y/n’s eyes.

“You didn’t tell me she clawed your back,” Tom sighed, squeezing y/n’s hand as the doctor gave y/n a tetanus booster shot.

“I forgot,” y/n laughed humorously. She sighed, “doesn’t really hurt too much though”.

Tom nodded. “And your throat?” He questioned, eyeing the bandage covering her neck.

“That one hurts like a bitch,” y/n admitted with a quiet laugh. “But, I’ll be fine,” She promised. “But…Tom…. I….” y/n trailed off.

“You what, love?” Tom inquired.

“I don’t really… umm..” y/n sighed and cleared her throat. She immediately winced at the pain that shot through her as a result. Y/n huffed and looked back at Tom, who was watching her with a sorrowful look. “I don’t want to go home… I… I know she’s gone… but…”

Tom nodded rapidly, squeezing y/n’s hand again. “We’re not going back there,” He promised. “W-when the police are umm,… done with their stuff… I’ll have Harry hire some people to help move our stuff out,” Tom stated.

Y/n smiled appreciatively at how Tom had already considered her not wanting to go back there after tonight. “But… Where are we going to stay? You are staying with me still, right?” She asked nervously.

“Of course!” Tom promised. “For now, I can take time off and we can go back to London. Or, we’ll get a hotel or new apartment until the show wraps. Whatever you want darling,” he comforted.

“You need to finish-“ y/n began. She noticed Tom was about to argue with her so she smiled and shook her head. “I want you to finish. But I won’t argue to you taking a few days off right now,” she admitted bashfully.

Tom sighed with relief, not wanting to go back to work just yet. More so, not wanting to be away from y/n again just yet. “Okay, so new place it is, we’ll get a hotel for tonight,” he decided. “Then, figure it out from there,” Tom said softly.

Y/n nodded and smiled lightly at Tom. “Can we go now?” She asked.

Tom chuckled quietly. “Once you’re cleared, darling,” he said, looking at the doctor.

“You’re all patched up, let me just get the discharge paperwork for you to sign and the at-home instructions to take care of your wounds,” the doctor offered with a sympathetic smile. “Then you’re free to go,” he told the couple as he left the room.

Y/n sighed and squeezed Tom’s hand. She was beyond ready to get out of the hospital. To be somewhere comfortable and safe. With Tom.

“In addition to the guards outside,” Tom said, nodding his head towards the door to y/n’s emergency room where a few of his security were. “I tasked Harry with booking the safest hotel he can find. I’m also going to have guards on each entrance to the hotel, and one outside watching our room if we have a patio, and a couple in the hallway by our door, they’ve been told they’ll be working around the clock, and-“ he rambled.

“Tom, I appreciate all of that,” y/n confessed. “But… She’s been arrested. I don’t think we need that many…” she argued.

Tom nodded. “You’re probably right. But… I know you keep saying it’s not my fault….” He sighed. “But, I can’t help it… please just let me do this for you, until things settle down?”

Y/n smiled warmly and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

“Tom, you can sleep now, we’re safe,” y/n promised, snuggling into his side as he held her.

“I know,” Tom whispered. “I just want to stay awake and just hold you for a bit,” he confessed. “But, please, rest darling, you’ve had a terribly long day,” Tom pleaded, kissing y/n’s forehead.

Y/n hummed quietly as she breathed in Tom’s cologne. “I love you,” she whispered, melting into his embrace.

“I love you too,” Tom replied, smiling down at y/n. “Thank you for being such a fighter today,” he added, tenderly running his thumb over the space between her brows to soothe her. Tom grinned to himself as he watched y/n quickly drift off to sleep. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if things had gone differently today, but he was glad he didn’t have to find out.

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meiliarotten · 4 months

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Lingerie Headcanons (All Mercs!)

🔞Minors DNI🔞

The Masterlist

👟 Scout 👟

Honestly I see scout as the kind of guy that gets worked up if you just happen to wear a bra and panties that match.

He just likes the idea that you put thought into what you were gonna wear for him

If you really wanna play to a fantasy though…

Playboy Bunny suits

It’s stereotypical, but people find those outfits sexy for a reason, so can you really blame him?

Favorite colors- he would claim to like the typical red and black, but I honestly think he has a soft spot for pink.

And he definitely doesn’t know shit about lingerie styles (tbh, neither do I. I’m looking at charts and cosmopolitan articles as I write this) so a simple bra and panty set suits him just fine

🦅 Soldier 🦅

Just dress up as the Statue of Liberty, he’ll be all over you

Ok, I’m kidding. Kinda. On to the serious stuff.

I think less is more with Soldier. I’m thinking vintage pinup aesthetic really gets him going

I know it’s not technically lingerie, but hear me out

Wear a dress or top that shows off your chest or “accidentally” drop something only to bend over in a skirt that’s conveniently just a bit too short

Bonus points if your wearing some actual lingerie beneath that skirt, flashing a bit of lace

Tease him, see if you can crack that strict drill sergeant demeanor her tries so hard to maintain

Once you're in private just know he’s not going to hold back on you.

favorite colors are red white and blue. No, I will not be backing down on this.

🔥 Pyro 🔥

the more colorful, the better with this one!

That goes double for frills.

Honestly the two of you could probably make a whole day out of you trying on different outfits and strutting around like a runway model, much to their delight

Pyro is like your own personal cheerleader

May also enjoy sexy costumes (nurses, French maids, etc), but I don’t see them as being much into roleplay, so those are probably more for fun

The fashion show usually ends when an outfit is just too hot for them to resist 😏

Because Pyro fucks and I will die on that hill

Their favorite colors for lingerie would be shades ranging from fire red to pastel pink

Favorite style is either babydolls or rompers. They just think you look so cute in them!

💥 Demoman 💥

He probably has the most ‘traditional’ lingerie tastes of everyone

Nothing too fancy, just a silk chemise or a pair of lacy black panties will do just fine

He definitely loves being surprised with it now and then. Undressing you to find that you’re wearing something special is always a turn on

Sometimes he’ll even save up to buy you a pair for special occasions like anniversaries.

He always gets super flustered when giving it to you, though. It’s really freaking cute

That said, if you really want to get him going, wear a pair of his boxers

You know those guys who think it’s hot as fuck when their partners wear their boxers or briefs?

Yeah, Demo’s one of those guys, 100%

Plus, you get to wear comfy, loose underwear. It’s a win-win!

🥊 Heavy 🥊

Heavy doesn’t have any need for fancy lingerie

Honestly he’s kinda terrified of tearing it. That stuff is expensive!

That said, he does enjoy the way you look in a teddy.

When he learns the name of the garment he’ll call you his “little bear.” It quickly becomes his favorite pet name for you

Favorite colors- doesn’t really have any. He thinks you look pretty in any hue.

That said, one thing that gets him even more worked up than lingerie?

Is when you wear one of his shirts- obviously way to big for you, fitting you like a nightgown- and nothing else.

🔧 Engineer 🔧

this is gonna be stereotypical as hell

And honestly he’s very aware of how stereotypical it is and he’s a little ashamed of it

But if you wore a sexy cowgirl costume he would be on you in a nanosecond

But let’s run with that- I think Engie likes costumes

This man has a secret knack for roleplay, I’m telling you

Naughty nurses, feathery show girls, a college student with a low cut blouse who would do anything for a passing grade

He does have some more vanilla tastes as well though. For example I think he loves the simplicity of a camisole or nightgown

Favorite colors would include white and baby blue

🏥 Medic 🏥

I will PERISH on this hill- Medic is a thigh man.

He LOVES the way stockings hug your legs. (In fact I’ve written a fic about this exact scenario)

He would also go feral over a sexy nurse outfit. Is it stereotypical? Yes. But it is also very hot. (I have also written a fic about this)

He’s definitely bold enough to just outright ask you to wear something for him, perhaps a blood red bustier and some matching garters (to play into that thigh kink I mentioned)

However he leaves it up to you when you will be wearing said thing, maintaining some element of surprise.

Once he actually sees you in it, perhaps waiting for him in his private quarters after a long day of work, he will take his time to admire you, making you do a little spin for him

He’ll definitely tease you and refuse to undress you until you're begging for his touch on your bare skin.

🦘 Sniper 🦘

Sniper is not a picky man when it comes to sex

That said, lingerie is always a welcome surprise

His only preference comes down to the style of the lingerie- he prefers crotchless designs.

He doesn’t see the point of wearing something sexy if he has to take it off to fuck you

Styles where the bottom of the panties can be easily pulled to the side also work for this

I think he also enjoys silkier textures.

He’ll run his hands over the fabric both during and after sex, almost as a way to soothe himself and come down from the high

Neither of you really know why this calms him down so much

🌹 Spy 🌹

Spy has sugar daddy energy and will probably buy lingerie for you

Expect the fanciest, silkiest garments that money can buy.

Chemise, robes, and negligee (which is basically the “wealthy widow whose husband died under mysterious circumstances” robe, according to the internet)

Most often they would be in traditional black, but I feel like a deep violet or midnight blue could also be appealing to him.

Oh and get ready to be teased to hell and back.

Spy likes to take his time, especially when you’re wearing something nice for him. After all, what’s the point if he just strips it off of you immediately? (plus this stuff is expensive so he’s gotta get his money’s worth out of this.)

He loves teasing you

#tf2 x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #merc x reader #minors dni #smut #tf2 smut #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 headcanons #headcanon #headcanons #team fortress #team fortress two

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builtbybrokenbells · 4 months

Text

CAPITAL VICES | JACOB T. KISZKA

Jacob Thomas Kiszka: the eighth, undiscovered, most deadly sin of all.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 19k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving) mentions of oral (m!receiving), sir kink, dom/sub, praise, dirty talk, biting, nipple play, degradation, very brief mention/phrase of free use kink, overstimulation, spanking, name calling, ANGST, mentions of breakups/heartbreak, depression, anxiety, sadness, graphic description of grief/grieving, loss of a parent, mentions of cheating/toxic relationships, past trauma with relationships, mentions of abusive relationships/physical violence, mentions of dying/death, mentions of addiction/withdrawal/drugs, fluff, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!!!

you guys didn’t really think I’d end it there, did you? ;) i did tell a little while lie and say wrath was the last chapter, but I didn’t technically say ‘the end’ 🤍 I apologize for leaving you hanging, and I hope this makes up for it! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!! (Very lightly edited)

Forget, move on, move forward.

That was the mantra you had been repeating to yourself for days. The sound was nearly sickening now, and the only reason you had not abandoned it was because it was stuck in your head. It was not helping, and it definitely was not working, but you were so deep in despair that you hoped it would eventually make the difference. You were desperate for any type of relief, for none of your usual coping mechanisms were working. The more the time passed, the more you were beginning to think that you would never recover from the loss of Jake Kiszka. You could not look at your piano, and you could not get out of bed for long enough to even think about readying yourself for the bar. All of your most comforting television shows had turned bleak, and the thought of playing music made you sick.

Well, all but one particular band, at least.

One sleepless night, you grew annoyed with your own relentless tossing and turning. After moving to the couch and turning your television on, you realized that not even the sound of Shameless, or more specifically, Frank Gallagher’s drunken babbling could pry a laugh from you. You switched to Brooklyn Nine-Nine, wondering if maybe a goofy comedy would settle the unbearable misery, but it only seemed to worsen your sadness. With one last shred of hope, you pulled out your phone that was lacking any messages like usual, and you opened your Spotify account.

You took a deep breath as you typed the three words into the search bar, and you felt like you were punched in the stomach when the picture of Jake and his three brothers graced your screen.

Of course, you would notice Jake first. He always came first.

You listened to Jake’s music for the first time that night, and instead of sharing the memory with him, you had to digest the intimacy you had previously denied yourself whilst trying to forget him. You promised that it would only be one time, and that if you only listened to one song, it would curb the need you held for him in your heart.

But, as you learned before in the hardest way imaginable, promising and following through are two completely different things, and it did not stop at a single song. By the time the sun rose in the sky, you were a mess of tears as you finished up the last few songs on their discography. Instead of turning your phone off and moving on, you put it on loop and leaned your head against the arm of the couch. One particular song caught your attention as it began playing, and it drew you in even further as the melodic guitar solo began. By minute three, your eyes were heavy, and not long after that, you were sound asleep.

When you woke in the morning from the best sleep you had in weeks, you were still hearing the soft sounds of Jake’s guitar. You swore you would turn it off and move on, but as you stretched and stood from your position on the couch, you let the melodies carry you through morning coffee and a long, overdue shower. Since then, it always seemed to be playing in the background while you tried to survive life without him.

A few days after the final breakup, Scott had sent you a message inviting you out for lunch. He was curious about how the night went after the blowout at the restaurant, and you couldn’t blame him. He sacrificed his own pride to help you find happiness, and the more you thought about it, the more appealing friendship with him seemed. You needed something to break up the monotony of sadness, and you knew that calling your sister was the last thing you wanted to do. You loved her, and she had always been your best friend, but you could not recount the mistakes you had made to lead you here. It would kill you to relive all of the sweetness and eventually, all of the heartbreak.

So you agreed, but it was all but happily. You made plans for a Saturday afternoon, exactly one week after you had called it quits with Jake. You thought that maybe by the time it rolled around, you would be more excited at the prospect of leaving the house considering you’d spent seven whole days inside, wallowing in your own misery. When you woke up that morning, it felt like lead was weighing down your limbs and you cursed yourself for ever making the plans in the first place. You forced yourself through a shower, but had to sit down on the side of the tub for ten minutes to regain your strength before getting dressed. You picked a hoodie that you’d stolen from your dads closet a long time ago, hoping that it would help you feel closer to him. You had been missing him more than you had in a very long time. You squeezed into a pair of jeans, debating whether to change into sweatpants, but eventually convinced yourself to wear them anyway.

You returned to the bathroom to dust on some makeup, hoping to cover the deep eye-bags and pale skin. About halfway through, you realized that there was not enough makeup in the world to cover up your heartbreak. You put on some lipgloss and sprayed some perfume, finishing just in time to hear the doorbell. With a sigh of defeat, you abandoned your reflection to greet Scott. You trudged to the front door, unlocking the knob and swinging it open to reveal his smiling face. He was much more relaxed than he was the weekend prior, and his clothes were not nearly as fancy. Relief flooded you when you realized that this was, in fact, just a friendly meal.

“Good afternoon, Sunshine.” He chuckled, first noticing your solemn face. You had given him a brief rundown of the situation the night before through a poorly written text so he knew what he was walking into, but you feared that it did not even come close to the way you were truly feeling. In truth, you had been texting quite often, and you weren’t sure that any of it made sense. Still, he was smiling, happily radiating positivity in hopes of making you feel better.

“Not much that’s good about it.” You grumbled, grabbing your purse from the hook by the door. You double checked for your phone and keys before nodding your head in the direction of his car. Your pessimism was staggering, but it did not seem to phase him.

“There’s lots of good,” he tried, stepping out of the way to allow you outside. “You get to see me. That’s good, is it not?” He raised an eyebrow, watching as you locked your door.

“You give yourself too much credit.” He chuckled at your grumpy expression, brushing off your insults like it was nothing.

“You look nice.” He said, placing a hand on your shoulder as you both made your way to the car.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a small smile. You knew you should not be so harsh with him; he only wanted to help, and you should be grateful for that. When you missed Jake so badly, it made it hard to think of anything other than the sound of your broken heart. “You, too.”

“You have any idea where we should go?” He asked, opening your door for you. You climbed inside, trying to ignore the turn of your stomach at the thought of food. When he got in next to you, he was still waiting for a response.

“Do you remember that little cafe we used to go to in high school?” You asked, suddenly recalling the little spot that you spent so much time together in all those years ago.

“With the two dollar sandwiches?” He asked, laughing at the idea.

“Yeah, and the best grilled cheese in the whole world.” You added, making sure he remembered that fact. “It’s a little bit of a drive, but I haven’t been there in forever.”

“I’m down,” he said, putting the car in reverse and pulling out on the road “I’ve got all day.” He looked down at the radio, reaching out and grabbing a cord. He tossed the aux in your direction and turned the speakers up a notch. “I haven’t been to that diner in a long time, either. We used to go there every day.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “you, me, Seth and Katie Haynes.” You tried to hide the sneer in your voice when you spoke the names.

“Fuck, yes! I forgot about her.” He shook his head in disbelief at his own memory.

“I sure didn’t.” You leaned back in the seat, clicking on the seat warmer in hopes of soothing your aching body. Laying in bed nonstop finally seemed to be taking a toll on you. “Maybe I should have clued in that Seth wasn’t the one when I caught them fucking in my bedroom at my own house.”

“Not to say I told you so, but…” you rolled your eyes, reaching over and giving him a light smack on the arm.

“You know, that’s like rule number one of what not to say when you’re trying to cheer someone up.”

“Oh, I know.” He laughed. “That wasn’t to make you feel better; I just like being right.” It was crazy how fast the two of you seemed to rekindle the friendship that was once so strong. It made you regret losing contact with him, and you thought that if you had been friends with him the whole time, life might have seemed a little less lonely.

“Some things never change.” You sighed, looking out the window as he drove. For a little while, the two of you sat in silence. You admired the city and how it continued on as normal despite you feeling like the world was ending. It was a terrible thing to know that the sun would continue to rise and fall even while you felt like you were dying. You turned on your phone, finding yourself sick of the sad music floating through the stereo. You looked through playlist after playlist, but could not seem to find one that sounded appealing to you. When you grew sick of scrolling your phone in search of a song to play, you gave up and hit shuffle on your recently listened songs, and the first note that played was equal to a punch straight to the stomach.

“Oh, who’s this?” He asked, intrigued at the old-timey sound of the guitar.

“Uh, it’s called ‘Built By Nations’.” You muttered, trying to tune out the guitar and focus on Josh’s voice.

“Who’s it by?” He asked again, his original question being left unanswered.

“My ex and his brothers.” You confessed, You cheeks searing with heat.

“A musician in Nashville, y/n? Come on.” He implored you to think your decision out again.

“I know, I know.” You sighed. “Definitely wasn’t my smartest decision, but I’m suffering now, am I not?”

“Fair enough.” He laughed, taking the cutoff to the road that housed your old High School.

You were hit with a whirlwind of memories as he slowed down, likely feeling the same as you were in that moment. You strained to look out at the football field, and laughed to yourself as you saw the old sign that displayed the name. It was falling apart with some of the letters missing, but it was familiar, and it was comforting. You didn’t hate high school, but you did hate the life events that happened while attending. It seemed to sour the whole experience, but as you thought back on it, you knew it was not nearly as bad as you made it out to be.

“If you could go back for a day, would you?” He asked, looking over at you as the sight passed you by.

“I think so.” You nodded. “Would you?”

“Oh, for sure.” He chuckled, no doubt in his mind about it. With that, he turned down another side road, and within seconds, you were in front of the diner that was a staple of your childhood. He pulled into the half-full lot, and not long after that, the two of you were walking inside. Immediately, you were drawn to the corner booth in which you’d spent so many hours in. It was empty, just like it was meant for you two to sit there. You took to one side, and he slid in the other. You placed your phone in your purse and threw it down beside you, looking around the small area and reminiscing on the memories made in that very spot.

“Let me guess, bacon cheeseburger and not one, but two cokes to go with it. And one to go.” You grinned, looking over at his face as he laughed at your words.

“You know me so well, sunshine.” He admitted to it without argument; he got the same thing every day of senior year despite having a whole menu to choose from. “And you’ll get a grilled cheese with tomatoes on it, because you’re weird.”

“Tomatoes aren’t weird.” You scoffed. “You don’t think that ten months worth of ordering cheeseburgers is weird?”

“Yeah, whatever.” He waved you off. “So, tell me what happened.”

“Eager much?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve waited a whole week to hear how it went, I think I’ve been plenty patient about it.”

“Fine,” you sighed, giving a shrug. “We fought in the parking lot, and on the drive home, and at my house. We said some mean things, stuff that we can never take back no matter how hard we try, then it went back to normal for a little while.” Normal was a strange description when it was referring to angry sex in your kitchen, but it fit the bill for you and Jake. Sex was the most normal thing about your relationship aside from the sadness, and occasionally, a wordless ‘I love you’. “It was nice, but I think that once the situation settled and I had a moment to think about everything, it just… it didn’t seem right.”

“What didn’t seem right?” He asked, hoping you would be more specific.

“All of it, you know? Like, we aren’t even dating and we’ve been hurting each other’s feelings and fighting. I can only imagine what it would be like if we were together.” He gave a small laugh, shaking his head slightly as you spoke. “What? What’s funny?”

“You, sunshine. You’ve always been so stubborn.” You opened your mouth to argue back, but he held up his hand as if to say he wasn’t finished. With a huff, you held back your words. “You guys are fighting because you’re feelings are hurt, whatever, it happens and it’s no big deal. Why are your feelings hurt, y/n?”

“Because he said the only thing I was good for was sex, and then he was all sweet and nice once we made up, but invited another girl on a date? How can you make up with someone and say that you care about them, then kiss another girl like it’s nothing?”

“Just the same as how you can take another guy on a date while you’re in love with him.” He shrugged, knowing he had you in a stalemate.

“I’m not in love with him!” Your voice was shrill, reacting as if the word was poison being forced down your throat. You were lying through your teeth, and even you knew how untruthful your words were.

“Oh, cut the shit, sunshine.” He rolled his eyes, pausing for a moment as the waitress approached you. He gave her a warm smile and ordered for both of you, and within minutes, she was on her way. “You’ve been moping around your house for a week because you broke up with your sort of boyfriend that you’re absolutely not in love with?” When he said it in such a way, you could clearly see how stupid you sounded. With a sigh of defeat, you gave in to the urge to speak the truth.

“Okay, fine, I love him.” Even as you said it, your whole body felt as if it was trying to reject the confession. You shuddered at the word and your palms broke out into a sweat. You ran them across the fabric of your jeans as you tried to calm yourself down. “I do, but I don’t want to, and it scares the shit out of me.”

“Why does it scare you?” He asked, taking a drink from one of the cokes the waitress dropped off. You sipped at the coffee she left behind for you.

“He’s the first person I’ve been with since I left Seth.” You confessed. “I mean, I’ve had one night stands, but never with anyone like him. It’s never been anything like this.”

“It’s never been with someone you’ve cared about.” He deducted.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “When I left Seth, I promised that I would never be with someone like that again. I never wanted anyone to have that type of power over me, and I didn’t want to get close to someone again just to realize that they’re a monster in disguise. It’s easier to be alone than to be alone while in a relationship, and I don’t ever want to suffer that way again.” You stirred some sugar into the mug, watching as the liquid formed a small whirlpool around the metal utensil. “When Jake and I first met, we were both on the same page, but somewhere along the way, the lines got blurred. I’m not innocent, either, and I know that. I was playing house with him and pretending like nothing was wrong, and then he started talking about wanting more, and it scared me so much that I ran. Well, no,” you chuckled “I backed him into a corner and forced him to run.”

“Why are you so scared of him, though? I mean, after this long, and after all of the shit you put each other through, you would be able to see that he’s bad, wouldn’t you?” He played with the paper wrapper that was previously encased around his straw, peeking up from his hands to catch your gaze.

“Maybe? I don’t know.” You sighed, your shoulders slumping with the weight of your emotions. “I’m not scared of him, per say. I’m scared of love, and I’m scared of getting hurt, and I’m scared of losing another person that I care about.”

“Is this about Seth, or is this about your dad?” He asked, voice as quiet as a mouse. He seemed afraid to ask, but more than that, he seemed afraid of your response.

You were stunned for a moment, and the flood of emotion that ran through you was more powerful than anything you’d ever felt. If it were anyone else sitting before you asking that dreaded question, you would have stood and screamed, thrown things from the table just to make a scene and show them how uncalled for the moment was. Instead, you gave a slow blink, but you did not do any of the things you wanted to. While you processed his words, you were plagued with a lifetimes worth of memories that involved the boy sitting across from you. Memories of him holding you while you screamed and cried in your childhood bedroom, clutching your fathers last worn t-shirt tightly to your chest. Memories of his hand in yours while you zombied your way through the funeral proceedings, and memories of him being the only person in the world who could pry a smile from your face while being plagued with such grief.

Even worse than that, there was memories of him sitting at the kitchen table with your father, talking about the football game that aired on television the night before. Ones where Scott would not just drive you to the hospital to visit your father while he succumbed to sickness, but where he walked into the morbid building and sat beside you, your sister and your mother while you tried to cheer your father up during his last days on earth. Scott was allowed to ask that question, not just because of how familiar he was with your grief, but because he grieved, too. Scott may have been a face that was forgotten along with the past, but he was not one that became insignificant. You fought tooth and nail to remove yourself from the life you lived so long ago, but a bond like such carried through until the end of time.

Your heartbreak from Jake may have done more damage than good, but there is always light that shines in the dark. Your breakup allowed for you to sit across the table at a fabled diner with your best friend for the first seventeen years of life. Your time away may have allowed you to forget how much of you he’d seen, but your heart could never forget the importance of his presence.

Instead of screaming, you nodded your head, telling him all you refused to say aloud. He was the only person who you would trust with such things, and despite your unwillingness to speak about it, you knew that he already knew the answer. Seth held little power over you anymore, and your fear of Jake turning out like him was ridiculous, but your dad? He was everything to you. He lived in every decision, every waking moment and thought that crossed your mind. He was a part of every heartbreak and triumph, and his advice rang in your ears every time you second-guessed yourself. The fear of disappointing him was true even after his death, and if anything, it only ever got worse.

More than that, his death crushed you. It left you lying on the floor, cursing every higher power and questioning the very universe that created you. It destroyed any hope and any sense of purpose, and it stole the happiness straight from your chest before it ever had the chance to bloom. You were familiar with loss, but despite it being an acquaintance, it was your own mortal enemy. You knew that it existed, and that it was always looming, but you lived your life in such a way that loss could not touch you. You never let people get too close, and you cut them off before they tried. You distanced yourself from everyone you loved most in hopes of sparing yourself the pain, and you could not even allow yourself to get a pet in anticipation of the crushing grief to come when it was their time to pass on.

The idea of loving Jake scared you so much that it shook you to the core, disrupting your entire life and forcing you to lock him out. The fear did not stem from your inability to love, or because you could not trust your own judgement of his character, but because you could not handle it if he were to suddenly get up and leave. You could not choke down the idea of loving someone enough to hurt after they were gone, and since your father died, no loss could ever come close to the pain you had felt from his death. Now, you knew that Jake leaving was the only pain in the world that could rival the one you had felt so many years ago, housed in your childhood home that held only a ghost of the man you loved most.

“Of course it is, Scott. It’s always about him.” Your throat was dry like you had just screamed out, and your eyes burned as if tears had ran them dry, but none of those things happened; the grief was so plentiful that it had bled you dry, and now it was the only thing to exist within your veins. “I can’t love him because I cannot imagine losing someone again. I can’t imagine how much it would hurt if he walked away, or if… yeah.”

“You don’t have to imagine it, sunshine.” He said, giving you a sympathetic smile. “You’re feeling it right now.”

“I know I am, but I keep trying to convince myself that hurting right now will save me from something worse later on.” You rubbed your face in your hands, wiping away non-existent tears. You felt like you were crying, and you knew you should be, but there seemed to be no tears left to cry.

“Or you’re holding yourself back from the best thing you’ve ever felt.” He offered the alternative, pausing the conversation while the waitress sat your food in front of you. He muttered a thank you, and once again, she was on her way. “Sure, leaving first ensures that he can’t leave you, but it also kills any possibility of happiness. What you’re doing right now limits you from a world of good; everything good comes with risk, y/n, and from what you’re telling me, he seems worth the risk.”

“He is. He’s worth it all.” You nodded, biting into a French fry. Despite your sorrow, you felt better than you had in days. “And I am worried about that pain, because I’m scared I can’t survive it again, but what I’m worried about most is that I’m too broken for him to handle. I don’t know how to love someone, Scott. It’s been five years since I’ve even let someone stay in my life for more than a weekend. Maybe I did all of those years ago, but not anymore. I’m angry, and I’m stubborn, and I’m more work than I’m worth. It’s not fair to him, and as much as I fear him breaking my heart, I’m even more afraid of breaking his.” You explained. “He’s been hurt, too. He deserves the world, and I’m not the person that can give it to him. He needs someone who has their shit together, and I’ve never once had all of my ducks in a row.”

“You can’t make that decision for him, y/n.” He said, taking a bite from his own meal. He let the words sit with you for a moment before speaking again. “I know you, and all you’ve ever wanted to do was protect people. It’s incredibly amicable, but sometimes you have to let them choose for themselves. To me, it sounds like he thinks you’re worth the risk, too.”

“I can’t do that to him.” You shook your head. “Sure, he’s choosing for himself, but I don’t think he knows what he’s getting into.”

“After this long, he knows, y/n, and he doesn’t care.” He assured you. “Listen, I know how guys think: if he was in this for any lesser purpose, he would have left a long time ago. If he did not care about you, he would not have shown up at the restaurant that night. That look in his eye was more than jealousy; it was the type of love that drives you insane. Don’t think you breaking up with him will get rid of that.”

“How do I stop being afraid?” You asked, in disbelief of the fact that he thought it was simple. “I’ve been afraid my whole life, it’s not just something I can turn off, even if I wish it was.”

“You never stop being afraid, sunshine. You just have to love each other enough that it doesn’t matter anymore.”

The meal went by without any further talks of Jake or your last heartbreaks. Instead, you filled the air with jokes and laughter, and gratitude for being in each others lives again. Although your relationship was rekindled for poor reasons, you were still thankful that you got the chance to be around him again. When the check came, you fulfilled your promise to repay him for the dinner cut short. When you climbed back into his car, you felt dread settle in your stomach. You weren’t ready to go home; you had been alone for days, and while that was something you normally loved, you’d now grown to hate it. You felt so happy to be with company that the idea of going home to an empty house sickened you. Worse yet, you did not know if you could go back and suffer through your relentless thoughts about Jake.

The drive home was filled with loud music, both of you singing along at the top of your lungs. You managed to convince him to stop at a coffee shop, claiming that you needed more caffeine to survive the day, but it was only to avoid the inevitable. When you made it back to the suburbs that you called home, your body felt heavy with the weight of your own loneliness. He pulled into your driveway, slowly rolling the car to a stop before he put it into park.

“Thank you, Scott.” You mumbled, looking down at your hands settled in your lap.

“No need for thanks,” he brushed you off “I hope I helped.”

“You did.” You nodded. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I definitely feel better.”

“You don’t need to know right now.” He assured you. “You can take all the time you need; it’s your life, sunshine.”

“You’re right.” You breathed, forcing a smile on to your face. “I’m sorry things ended up like this. It wasn’t my intent for you to be my own personal therapist.”

“It was meant to work out like this.” He shrugged. “I’m just happy I get to see you again. Watching your life through limited Facebook posts was sad. I missed my friend, and that’s the biggest reason I asked you out.”

“I missed you, too. I think I would really like it if we hung out more often.” You confessed. “I’ve been far too isolated. I’m too young to be so afraid of being alive.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, leaning across the seats to give you a hug. You rested in his arms for a moment, soaking up all of the physical contact you could before having to retreat inside. “I’ll see you soon?” He asked, pulling back just enough to catch sight of your face.

“Of course. Thank you again.” You gave him one last smile before making your departure, feeling your stomach sink more with every step you took towards the front door.

You had no idea what to do, and a part of you felt like you should call Jake and at least apologize for all that happened. Still, there was a bigger, more stubborn part of you that still believed he was better off without you. Once you locked the door and you were safely inside, you heard Scott pull out of your driveway and begin his journey home. You kicked off your shoes and threw your purse down on your kitchen counter. You reached into the pocket of your sweater, letting your fingers linger on your phone for a moment. You wanted to pull it out, to dial Jake’s number from memory and confess everything your heart felt for him. For a while, you sat in the kitchen, clutching your phone and unable to find the strength to go any further.

You loved him, but you loved him enough that you could not bear the thought of dragging him down with you. He was too good, and you were too much. The thought alone made tears pool in your eyes and your bottom lip begin to quiver. You wondered if your dad was looking down on you, proud of you for being the bigger person, or if he was disappointed in you for letting another good thing pass you by.

Then, the most painful thought of all struck you out of nowhere: he would never get the chance to meet Jake and grow to love him like you did.

You knew your father would be Jake’s biggest fan; his kind heart and his lax attitude was loveable no matter who he was using it on, and his love of music and talent on the guitar would win your dad over indefinitely. Jake was the type of guy your father had begged you to fall in love with, but he surely did not anticipate you being too broken to love him back.

Suddenly, the thoughts and the feelings got to be too much and you had to force yourself out of them. Instead of calling Jake, you shut off your phone. Instead of being the bigger person and confessing your love, you climbed into bed fully clothed and searched for the scent of him in your bedsheets. Instead of growing up and forgetting your fear, you closed your eyes and fell asleep while trying to remember what it felt like to have his arm wrapped around you.

When you woke, the sun was no longer shining through the window. Instead, the moonlight was plentiful and it casted a white glow over your bedroom, illuminating the sadness and the emptiness that now lived inside. You were groggy, barely within the plane of existence, but you tried your best to shake off the feeling. You were certain you heard a soft thud sound from the kitchen, but you chalked it up to you remaining amidst a dream despite being conscious, now. You tumbled from your bed, planting your feet firmly on the floor as you stretched out your arms and let out a yawn. When you stepped out of your room and into the bathroom to brush your teeth, you thought that you heard the sound again. You brushed it off, knowing that the likelihood of it being anything important was slim. The idea of someone knocking on your door was laughable, and you did not want to torture yourself by checking to see and being met with nothing.

You rinsed your mouth and wiped away the specs of mascara that had fallen underneath your eyes. You let out a sigh at your reflection, grabbing a a makeup wipe and ridding yourself of all the makeup. You washed your face and moved on to the kitchen, where you grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the fridge and began pouring yourself a glass. It had become a nightly routine, and you knew that with a few shots, you’d be back to sleep in no time.

As you dropped the ice into your glass you heard the noise again, but stronger this time. It caught your attention so fast that you could not doubt that it was real. You wondered if Scott had driven back to your side of town to check on you, or if maybe your mother had come over to see if you were alive. You had been ignoring her calls and messages, and although you knew you should answer, you could not bring yourself to do it. You took a sip of your drink before stepping towards the door, using it as a bit of courage to face another social interaction. Your fear of being alone no longer existed, and the longer you stayed holed up in your house, the more tempting isolation seemed.

You unlocked the deadbolt and the knob, wondering who would be here so late at night if not for a friend. Lately, friends were scarce and you had little idea who could be there. When you opened the door fully, getting a clear view of who was on the other side, you nearly fell to your knees. You were frozen, stuck staring at his face as you processed the fact he was really standing there, the corners of his lips upturned into a small, breathtaking smile. He seemed just as happy to see you, but he did not make a move to greet you first. Eventually, you mustered enough courage to speak.

“Hi,” you breathed, completely taken aback by the boy in front of you. After days of missing him, wondering if you would ever be lucky enough to see him again, you had a hard time believing that the man before you was real. In some strange way, it felt like he was a figment of your exhausted and worn down imagination. You feared that if you reached out and touched him, he would disappear before your very eyes. You did not want to be met with any more disappointment, because in the last week, that was all you felt. If he were to suddenly fade away, you thought that you might not be able to survive it. The sight of his face was the most comforting thing you had seen since he was last with you, and the knowledge that he was still thinking of you made you weak in the knees.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He said, giving you a soft smile. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, stepping out of the way to allow him inside. You tried not to think about the butterflies running rampant in your belly at the sound of the pet name. He stepped towards you, out of the warm night air and into the comfort of your home that he’d grown so used to. You watched his face, dazed at his beauty and wondering how you ever forced yourself to let him go. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and a look in his eyes that you could not place. You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen it before, but you liked it more than you cared to admit.

Then, before he spoke again, you had a sudden sense of dread wash over you; he was likely only there to retrieve his clothing he had left behind. The ache in your chest at the thought was unbearable, but you forced yourself to remain calm and allow him to do what he needed to do.

“You’re here to get your stuff?” You asked, trying to hide your feelings of frustration and sound as cheerful as possible. If only you could tell him how much you cared, maybe he wouldn’t clear out the only remaining memories of your relationship. You hated how much you had grown to like his life being intertwined with your own in such ways. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking over your face as he tried to place the emotion behind your eyes.

“No, angel.” He chuckled, dropping his bag down on the floor. You listened to the sound, realizing that if anything, it sounded quite full. A rush of relief ran through you, even if you knew you should have wanted him to clear out all of his belongings. It was for the best, even if you did not want him to leave again, especially for good.

“Oh,” you breathed, trying to compute what was happening. “So… why are you here?” You hated that it came out so harsh, and it was not at all what you were intending, but it did get your point across clearly. You were confused, you were still hurting, and more than anything, you wanted to know what his intent was.

He stepped closer to you, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Then, he reached up, letting the knuckle of his index finger softly caress your cheek. You let your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, the sensation intoxicating and when mixed with the scent of his cologne, deadly. He tucked your hair behind your ear as he noticed pieces falling from the messy bun sat atop your head. After that, his hand drifted towards your neck, settling gently on the back of it as he drew you closer to him.

You were too weak to fight him, and too tired to care. You missed his comfort more than anything, and you did not want to deny yourself the pleasure after you had suffered so much.

“You look tired, sweetheart.” He said, studying your face. He could see the dark circles forming, and the fire in your eyes he loved so much now seemed dim, nearly burnt out. Your head was upturned to meet his gaze, and he was looking down at you. In another universe, you would even go as far as to say that the two of you seemed to fit together with perfect harmony. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Not really.” You shook your head ever so slightly, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. You noticed the same tell-tale signs in his own features. “Have you?”

“No.” He said, still staring intently at your face. He missed it so much that he was trying to memorize every detail all over again. Unintentionally, you felt yourself leaning into him. His face was so close, and your eyes were begging to close as you pulled him in for a kiss. He felt it just as much, and he was hoping you would cross the invisible boundary you had drawn for yourself. You were in such close proximity that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, drawing you in further. The tip of your nose brushed against his, sending jolts of electricity through your whole body.

It was so good that you almost fell victim to him once again.

“Jake,” you breathed, pulling back from him and placing a soft hand on his chest so he would keep his distance. The separation was painful, but necessary. “We can’t do this. Friends don’t do this.” Tears pricked your eyes at the term of friendship, but you managed to blink them away before any slipped onto your cheeks.

“Right,” he sighed, nodding against you and accepting your words. Before you knew it, he had stepped out of reach and you were left wishing that you never spoke at all. You watched him move away from you, still questioning if you were dreaming or of conscious mind. For a second, you feared that he would walk towards the door and out of your life again. The grief at the thought alone was debilitating. Then, he bent down and unzipped the top of his track bag. You watched as he carefully pulled something from it, looking over the item for a moment before turning back to you. When he straightened up and made a move to face you again, you nearly fell to your knees. “That’s actually why I came here.” He said, clearing his throat to rid himself of the nervousness plaguing him.

He extended his hand towards you, watching you closely in fear of a volatile reaction. He had brought up the idea once before and you had confirmed your distaste for it, but he could not seem to help himself. He thought you deserved it. He thought that you were worth it. Your eyes were glued to the brown paper that was delicately wrapped around a bouquet of red roses. You were so stunned that you could not even manage to look up to meet his gaze.

How could he do that to you? How could he walk in like nothing happened with a bouquet of roses and a tongue as sharp as a knife? Sweetness dripped from his words and his actions, but you were in no state of mind to receive such treatment from him. His gestures were profound and you adored him for it, but it was not what you needed when you were dedicated to getting over him.

“Jake,” you warned, saying his name like it was the only hymn you knew how to sing. He appeared so ethereal, so beautiful and bright while he held the token of love, but you were not enough of a fool to believe that it could be true. His angelic smile and his breathtaking eyes were nowhere near anything holy, and you had learned the truth a long time ago. He was not good for you, and you were not good for him. You both knew it, but he did not want to accept it. By showing up and handing out grand gestures, he was only worsening the suffering.

“Stop it, y/n.” He said, giving you a stern look. “Take them, please. I spent so long picking them out that it would be a shame for them to go to waste.” Your heart sped at his words, realizing that the longer you looked, the less it seemed like the bouquet was a thoughtless, last minute purchase on his way over. The paper was arranged beautifully amidst the blood red petals and emerald stems and leaves. Tied around the stems was twine that was carefully cut and settled into a bow. You were not a background thought in his head; he had gone to an expensive florist and pondered over dozens of flowers to bring to you. He picked them with care and caution, wondering what would catch your eye the most.

He cared enough to spend the time and the money on you, but what was even worse than that was that he was the first person to ever give you a bouquet of flowers. How could you get over him when he’d been the first man in the world other than your father to care so much about you?

“Friends don’t give each other flowers.” You said, looking hesitantly towards his face.

“You’re right, y/n. Friends don’t give each other flowers.” He sighed, still holding his arm out to you. “I’m giving these to you because we’re not friends, and you and I both know that.”

“No, Jake.” You shook your head, crossing your arms across your stomach and hugging yourself to satiate the steadily growing anxiety. “I told you, we can’t do that. I’m not good for you. This isn’t good for us.” You shook your head, panicking at the idea of hurting each other again. He was too fantastic to be subject to the hurt the two of you were so good at causing.

“Would you quit that? Stop being so fucking stubborn.” He argued, getting visibly frustrated. “You don’t get to decide what’s good for me. You don’t get to choose if I want to be with you or not. Only I can, and I’m choosing you, y/n. I’m standing here in front of you, telling you that I am, and that I will choose you every day for the rest of my life. You don’t get to tell me that we can only be friends, and you don’t get to tell me that this won’t work. You can’t always call the shots. I get a say, too.”

“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m just saying that this is only going to hurt us! I’m trying to protect you, and I wish you could see that!” You exclaimed, trying to ward off the temptation to run into his arms. His words were devastatingly beautiful and everything you had ever longed to hear, but you could not be selfish and bring him down with you.

“Protect me from what?” He shot back, appalled at your inability to comprehend what he was saying. “You? Myself? Us?”

“Everything! I don’t know!” You were exasperated by his reaction, not able to understand how he could not see it the same way you did. Two people that hated love could not love each other peacefully. You had proven that with your jealousy and toxic games, and you cared about him far too much to involve him in such things. The sin the two of you had engaged in had left you both resembling the devil, and you feared that if you let it go any further, you would turn to ash in the barren, fiery wastelands of hell.

“I shouldn’t have left that night, y/n. I never should have let you go, but I didn’t want to push you, and I didn’t want to scare you away. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m here now to tell you everything I need to say. I have to get it off my chest, because if I don’t, it’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life. If you still think that it’s for the best, then I’ll let you go, but not until I tell you everything.” You watched him, pain written so clearly on your face. You did not have the heart to turn him down, and you did not have the strength to keep up the act. You wanted him so badly that it was impossible to send him away, and his persistence was charming despite your hesitancy.

“Okay.” You nodded, choking on the word as it fell from your lips. You knew that whatever he had to say would turn your whole world upside down, but for some reason, you were okay with it. When in his company, even if he was causing peacefulness or devastation, it seemed right. You could comfortably watch him tear your house down one panel at a time, and you would have a smile on your face and love in your heart because you were there with him. You reached out, slowly wrapping your fingers around the bouquet. Your hand brushed against his as you did, the burning warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine. You had no idea how even the simplest of interactions with him always seemed so magnificent. “Thank you, Jake.” You looked down at the petals, tears shining in your eyes as you digested the sentiment that came along with the gift.

Now that you held them, it made the moment all the more real. Jake was a man who cared about you so deeply that it made you question if he was even real. You had never felt emotion so strongly, good or bad. He made everything a million times more powerful, and even something as small as buying you flowers seemed to knock the air from your lungs and make your knees weak. You had never felt so important to anyone in your entire life, and as good as it felt, you feared that if it ever came to an end, you would perish from the grief of the loss.

“You keep saying that you want to protect me, but there’s nothing you have to protect me from, y/n. I’m a grown man who understands what I’m getting myself into, and I’m telling you that I don’t care about the risks.” He watched you take a step towards the kitchen, following closely behind you as you moved to set the flowers on the counter. Once they were safely placed, you turned to look at him again, giving him all of your attention. “When I met you at the bar that night, I wasn't looking for anything but sex. We both know that, and I don’t feel a need to lie about it. When I sat down and I finally got you to talk to me, I knew right away that you were going to be more than sex. You can’t just meet someone so fantastic and pretend they’re ordinary, angel, and you are all but ordinary.” Your stomach twisted in knots at his words, but you bit down on your tongue and listened as he poured his heart out to you.

“You are the most beautiful, smart, witty, and charming woman I have ever met. You take my breath away every time I see you, and you make me feel things I’ve never felt before in my entire life. I could go on about how I feel about you forever, but it still wouldn’t even come close to how I feel in my heart. I don’t think there’s enough words in the dictionary to describe how much I care for you.” He was close to you, but not enough that you felt trapped. There was about a foot of space between you, and you would never say it, but you were desperate for him to come closer. Your eyes were focused on his face as he spoke. The emotion in his eyes was so profound that you could feel it as if it were your own. “I know I promised you that I wouldn’t fuck this up, and I’m sorry that things happened the way they did, but falling for you was the easiest thing I have ever done. I was yours before we ever left the bar that night, and as much as you don’t want me to be, I can’t apologize for something I don’t believe is wrong. I am sorry that I broke my promise, but I have never been sorry for caring about you.”

“I’ve spent the last three months trying to memorize every detail about you because I want to know everything you have to offer. I know that you hate breakfast, because it’s too intimate, and emotional intimacy scares the shit out of you. I know that you have the exact same routine before bed; you turn on your fan to the third setting, because the fourth is too loud and the second isn’t enough. Then, you climb into bed and you check your phone, but not for texts or social media likes. You check your schedule, just to make sure you’re not forgetting about an appointment with a client, because your work means everything to you. Then, you get up again because you can remember if you locked the door or not, and you make sure the oven is off for the fifth time while you’re out there. When you get back into bed, you toss and turn for twenty minutes until you eventually end up on your stomach, because that is the only way you can fall asleep.” As he told you the most miniscule details about yourself, your ego shattered and the shards of what once was so strong seemed to stab you with every breath. Nobody had ever cared to know you so well, and he was recounting it like he’d dedicated his whole life to studying it.

“Your sister is your whole life, and you mark off the days on your calendar just so you can count down the hours until she comes home to visit. You only ever sit on the left side of the couch, and you have about a dozen half-empty water bottles beside your bed because you forget about your open one and grab a new one every night. When you laugh, you cover your mouth with your hands and you try to keep it to yourself. I don’t know why, because it’s the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. You play with your hair when you’re nervous, and you blush when you lie.” As he spoke, your hand darted away from the ends of your hair as if it had just burned you.

“Stop, Jake.” You whispered, feeling sick at the sheer amount of knowledge he had about you.

“No, y/n.” He shook his head. “I’ll never stop talking about you, because knowing you so well is the best feeling in the whole world, especially because I know I’m the only one who does. I could talk about you for hours, because I think everyone should know how fantastic you are. I know all of this stuff, and I still want more. You can call me selfish, but I don’t care. I want to spend my life getting to know you, and I will be eighty years old and still wanting to learn something new about you.” He explained, hoping you were understanding what he meant. “Friends don’t know each other like this, sweetheart, and it would be a fucking shame if we tried to be strangers again after everything we’ve been through. Knowing you any less than I do right now seems like torture, and I don’t ever want to do that.”

“I’m not scared of you, and I’m not scared of this. I’ve spent every day since I first met you falling for you, and now, it’s the most comfortable feeling I’ve ever felt. You don’t get to tell me that I’d be happier without you, or as friends, or with someone else, because it’s just not true. You are what I want, and I know you have to feel it, too. I’ve never felt this way before, and I know we’ve both been hurt, and I know that you’re scared, but you can’t tell me that this isn’t good for us. We haven’t even tried, angel. If you let me, I can show you that love is not as scary as it seems, because we’ve already been doing it.”

“Jake,” you let out a shaky breath, your eyes shining with tears as you tried to process all he was saying. His name seemed like the only thought your brain could formulate.

“Baby, you are everything to me. I’m here, and I want to stay if you’ll let me. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to hurt you like everyone else has. I know that I already have, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it right, but I promise that I will never do that to you again.” He took a small step towards you, gauging your comfort before he jumped straight into it. “I know that you don’t like this part, but I would be an idiot if I didn’t ask you to try. I want to be what you deserve, and I want to be with you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything my whole life.” He reached out, lifting your chin up with his index finger to look in your eyes. “All I’m asking for is one chance. One shot to prove that I’m telling the truth. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left you here, and I don’t think I ever will.”

He cared, and he cared so much that he was willing to get his heart broken all over again for the chance to have you. He did not want to promise you love and then leave, nor did he want to pretend to be all you needed just to take it away. He wanted you, and loving you was all he ever wanted to do. Jake had never been the enemy; you only had yourself to blame, ruining your chances at happiness before the opportunity ever arose. You were hurt, guarded and protective over your own frail heart, but he did not want to shatter it like you previously thought. He wanted to help strengthen it again, to show you that your heart would be safe as long as it was offered to the right people. He wanted to love you like you always should have been, and Scott was right that night at the restaurant; what the two of you had was a type of love that you should never let go of. He was the most selfless, caring and kind man you had ever met, and if you let him leave once more, you knew you would lose him forever.

“Okay.” You breathed, nodding your head as your heart drummed rapidly against your chest. You were terrified, but being in his company made the fear obsolete. The look in his eyes aided you in believing that you would be more than okay, and that he would be better than anyone who came before. You felt like you were being crushed underneath the weight of your own longing for him. “I’ll try for you, Jake.” There was no doubt in your mind that you would try until your body began to deteriorate and your mind went numb. You would try for him until you could no longer do it and death was the only other option. You would do anything to experience love at his hand again, because it was the most beautiful thing you had ever experienced.

“Yeah?” He asked with a little laugh stuck in his throat that screamed disbelief.

“Yes,” you nodded, praying that he would bridge the gap. Before you could ask him to come closer, his hands shot out and grabbed your face between them, still gentle with you as if he was scared to break you. He stepped forward, and within seconds, his lips were locked on your own and your arms were around him again. The taste of him was addicting, more than any other drug in the world. The feeling of his skin on your was intoxicating, and his hands felt like heaven when they touched you with such care. You were helplessly in love with him, and no amount of time or distance could change it. He was everything you needed, all of the time, and you were an idiot to try and push him away.

When he parted, you were both breathless and smiling. He was still close enough to your face that you could feel his warmth, and you hoped that he never had to pull back. You wanted to live in the bliss forever, and with him until the end of time.

“I want to try, Jake. I’m so scared, but I want to try as long as it’s with you.” The quiver in your voice was louder than anything else in the room, and he drank up the vulnerability as if he was dying from thirst. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to get hurt, but you were right; we can’t let go of this without giving it our best. I’ve been so terrified of losing you that it’s made me blind to how much I care, and I don’t ever want to feel how I felt this week ever again.” All he could do was smile; there was no words to describe the relief he felt.

“I knew you were something more, too. You came in here and suddenly my house felt empty without you. I hate love and relationships, but you make me hate the idea a lot less. I want to try, and I want us to try together, but I want it to work. I don’t want to give up when things get hard, and I don’t want to fight or make each other suffer. I want to be with you, and I want to do it right, this time.” You confessed, all of the words pouring from you with no signs of stopping. “I’m scared to fall in love with you because I was scared of losing you, but I’m doing it anyway by forcing you to stay away. You’re worth the risk, Jake. You always have been, and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t say it sooner.”

“You’re saying it now.” He breathed, almost unable to believe that the words were genuine. When he showed up at your doorstep, he expected to be met with rejection. Instead, you were telling him everything he craved to hear from you. It was almost too good for him to believe that it was true. “That’s what matters, angel.” He placed another kiss to your lips, lingering there for a moment to soak up all of the intimacy he could. “I want that, too. I’ve done it wrong so many times, but I want to do it right this time. I want to do it right with you.”

“I missed you so much.” You admitted, reaching up and cupping his cheek in your hand. You let your thumb drift over the soft skin, wondering how you ever survived without him around.

“You don’t have to miss me anymore. I’m here, and I want to stay.” You closed your eyes, fighting back tears at the sound of his words. He was here, he wanted to stay, and he wanted to love you. You were so lucky to have him, and you were so stupid to think that you could let him go. One of his hands dropped to your hip, his fingers gently grasping at you as he attempted to pull you closer. “I’m going to say it.”

“Say what?” You giggled, peeking at him through tired eyes. You were exhausted, finally comfortable after days of suffering and sleepless nights, but you weren’t willing to end the moment yet. You would never sleep again if it meant you could always be with him, just like you were in that moment.

“I love you, sweetheart.” A wave of emotion washed over you, stopping your heart and filling your lungs. You watched his face, seeing in his eyes that he’d never meant anything more in his life. It was a word you’d banished so long ago, and it was something that you were certain you could live without. Now that he was in front of you, saying it in the same sweet tone he always used, you could not imagine a life without hearing it every day. You had no idea why you were so afraid of it, or why you were so afraid of him. He was the whole world, and you knew that from the very beginning. His devilish charm and intoxicating attitude made it impossible not to love him, and you knew that any woman would jump at the chance to have him. You were the luckiest person to ever live, and you could not picture loving anybody else the way you loved him.

“I love you, Jake.” You whispered, softly and slowly, making sure he heard every syllable. He had been waiting so long to hear it that you could not deny him of it for one more second.

He barely had time to smile before his lips were back on yours, hungrier than the last. You slipped your hand to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in the locks of his hair. It was different than any other kiss you shared before; it tasted like freedom and it was laced with the notion of letting go. For the first time since you met him, you felt like you could show all of yourself to him. There were no barriers, no doubt nor hesitations. It was just the two of you, enjoying loving each other without fear getting in the way. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever felt, and you never wanted to feel any other way.

Loving Jake was the best thing you had ever experienced, even with the turmoil that you had been through. The pain and the losses were just as important as the good moments and the happiness, because it all led you to where you sat in that moment. The hurt was worth it as long as it meant you could love him, and you would suffer through it all over again just to be able to be loved by him. As his hand slipped under your shirt, settling on the warm skin underneath, you knew that you would never be happier with someone else. He was what you wanted, and any doubt about it was obsolete now.

You could not hold back the moan that slipped into his mouth at the feeling of his hand on you again. The rough, calloused fingertips from his guitar playing felt like heaven against the smooth skin on your body. Now, with the proclamation of love still lingering in the air, every movement and touch was amplified by a million. Your body was on fire, and he barely even touched you. You weren’t sure if it was solely accredited to the vulnerability the two of you shared, or if it was because you’d spent so many days longing to be touched by him. No matter which it was, it did not matter. All that mattered was that he was there, and things were okay.

“Say it again, angel.” He muttered against your lips, still trying to catch his breath.

“I love you,” you breathed, pressing your lips back to his before the words could fully pass through your mouth. His grip on you tightened, ecstatic to hear the sound. “I love you so much.” You said again, unable to hold it back any longer. You wanted to scream your love for him from the highest rooftops, telling the whole world how much he meant to you, but you feared that it still would not be enough. His lips trailed from your lips down to your neck, settling on the sweet spot just below your ear. You let out a breathy moan at the feeling of his tongue on your skin, your hands tightening on him as a silent show of enjoyment.

“We’re gonna have to do this differently now, beautiful.” His voice vibrated against you, making your eyes flutter closed at the light tickle that quickly spread.

“What do you mean?” You asked, still lost in the blissful nature of his touch.

“I can’t fuck you like a whore, anymore.” He said, snaking his hand up your shirt and landing it over your breast clothed only by the thin material of your bra. His thumb found your nipple through the fabric, feeling it harden under his touch. “I have to fuck you like I love you.”

“Can’t you fuck me like a whore anyway?” You challenged, not willing to give up the sex life you had already built with him. He chuckled at the disappointment in your tone, glancing up at you to catch your gaze.

“You like it better that way?” He raised an eyebrow. Your cheeks heated with a blush at the look in his eyes.

“Y-yes, sir.” You nodded.

“I tell you I love you and you behave yourself… maybe I should have said it a long time ago.” He related the two, smiling to himself as he thought about it. “How about I do both? Does that sound good to you, angel?”

“Sure, yeah.” You felt your lips upturn into a smile, happy with anything he was willing to give you.

“Glad we could come to that agreement.” He chuckled, giving your breast a gentle squeeze as he finished speaking. “Now, get in the bedroom and take your fucking clothes off. I’ve got time to make up for, and I don’t feel like waiting any longer.”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated your earlier statement, trying to ignore the ache that began between your legs. He dropped his hand from you, giving you a gentle nudge towards the bedroom. You followed his guidance, letting out a small yelp as his hand collided with your ass as you turned away. You shot him a look over your shoulder as you continued walking away, but he only responded with a wink.

You made quick progress with taking your clothes off, unashamed of your own excitement. You kicked them off to the side, peering out into the kitchen to see if he was following. When you didn’t see him or hear him walking to join you, you stepped towards the door, peeking just your head around it. You gazed out, finding your heart melt at the sight. He was peering through your cupboards, flowers in hand, in search of a vase to put them in. Eventually, he found a suitable holder for them, filling it with water and unwrapping the bouquet. He placed them inside, smiling at his own accomplishment, and turned towards your room.

He caught you staring, finding himself only slightly embarrassed at the thought. He gave you a smile as his cheeks tinged red. “What?” He asked, defending himself when there was no need to.

“Nothing,” you giggled, stepping out from the door frame so he could see you followed his instructions. He took in a sharp breath, surprised that you had been so obedient. Then, his eyes seemed to darken with lust as he got closer to you. “You’re just taking care of things out there like… oh, I don’t know, you love me or something?” He let out a scoff, rolling his eyes at your statement.

“Yeah, as if.” He teased, stepping towards you and scooping you into his arms with one swift motion. You let out a shriek of laughter, slinging your arms around his neck while you wrapped your legs around him. He found himself laughing at you, too. Your joy was infectious, and he wanted to soak up every minute of it. He pressed his lips to yours as he stepped towards the bed, breaking from the kiss for a moment to check over your shoulder and ensure there was nothing on the mattress. When he deduced that the coast was clear, he moved forward so his knees were touching the bed, then he dropped you down on the mattress without warning.

You let out a gasp of surprise as you landed with a thud, bouncing back up slightly from the impact. “What was that for?” Your lip formed into an unintentional pout, displeased with his actions, but he was too busy pulling his shirt over his head to notice.

“This is where the love part comes in.” He explained, chucking as he threw his shirt to the ground. “It’s not just about fucking you until you can’t walk; we get to have fun, too.”

“That wasn’t fun, I could’ve gotten hurt!” You exclaimed, but a smile was tugging at your lips. He unbuttoned his jeans, slipping out of them and kicking them to the side before looking back at you.

“Sweetheart, I would never do anything that would hurt you. You know that.” He scolded, playfulness still dancing in his eyes. He moved closer, climbing onto the bed and hovering atop of you for a moment. “Well, too bad, anyway.” He added, running his fingers over the lingering mark from his belt that was left from the weekend before. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize.” You assured him, the sting of the leather already long forgotten in your mind. “I deserved it.”

“You can be quite a brat,” he agreed, smiling down at you. The chain around his neck dangled in the air and his hair swooped down to frame his face. The sight of him was breathtaking, and you wished you could sear the picture in your mind forever.

“You bring out the worst in me.” You shrugged, distracted by the gleam of emotion in his eye. It was different than before, less animalistic and much more complex. It was love, and even though you did not recognize it yet, you would in the days to come, for it was dancing in your eyes, too.

“I don’t think that’s true, angel.” He argued, leaning down so his lips were hovering over your bare chest. He watched you take in a sharp breath, anticipating his next move with excitement. He placed a soft kiss to the top of your breastbone, slowly making his way downward with the same gentle nature. He brought one hand to your hardened nipple, letting the rough pad of his thumb drift across the sensitive nub. Your back arched upwards in reaction. The feeling was small, and the reaction was not because of the sensation, but rather because he was the one causing it.

He brought his mouth down to your breast, letting his tongue take over for his thumb. Your eyes fluttered closed as the familiar feeling of arousal blossomed in your belly. It was so easy for him to turn you into a mess, and sometimes you wondered if he knew the extent of the power he held over you. He suctioned his lips around the nipple, letting his tongue run over it a few times to let you enjoy the moment. Once you were comfortable and unsuspecting, he let his teeth sink into you ever so slightly. You jumped at the sensation, but he’d already moved on before you could voice a complaint.

He kissed a sloppy trail down to your navel, reveling in the noises that were falling from your lips. Eventually, he paused, looking back up at you through his lashes to soak in your needy expression. His mouth was hovering just over your heat, and the ache between your legs was growing harder to ignore. You needed him, and you did not know if you could wait any longer. “What’s wrong, beautiful?” He asked, the far away look in his eyes telling you how badly he needed to hear you tell him how much you wanted him.

“Need it so bad, Jake.” You squirmed underneath his gaze, finding it almost too powerful to hold. “It’s been so long.”

“You need me?” He purred, the corners of his lips upturned into a smirk. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your cunt, the temptation of seeing all of you too much to resist.

“I do, sir.” You pleaded, feeling the arousal begin to push you towards insanity. You could feel his breath on your skin, teasing you without even trying. His mouth was watering from the sight alone, but he wanted to savor the moment for as long as he could. “Please, baby.” You tried again, reaching down and caressing his cheek with your thumb. You thought that the sweetness might coerce him into giving in. The soft brown of his irises were gone, now, blackened with his lust-blown pupils. He wanted you just as bad, and the soft touch of your fingers was forcing him to remember how badly he missed you.

“Do you know how much I thought about this?” He asked, grabbing your hip with one of his hands. He pulled you down ever so slightly, his mouth practically touching you, now. “How badly I wanted to see you like this?”

“How bad, sir?” You played stupid; you knew how much he thought about you because you had thought about him just as much. You wanted to hear it, to know how desperate he was for you when he couldn’t have you.

“I thought about it every night,” he muttered, his eyes now focused on your cunt, clenching around nothing just from the memory of him being inside of you. “I thought about all of those slutty little noises, how pretty you looked with my cock in your mouth.” He listed, biting back a smirk as he noticed your cheeks redden at his words. “I was worried someone else was taking care of you and that pretty little cunt.” He continued, letting a trail of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. “Did you get someone else to take care of you, sweetheart?”

“No, sir.” You let out a shaky breath, completely enthralled by his devilish charm. The filth he was speaking even seemed to draw you in. At that moment, Jake was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“No?” He asked, almost as if he didn’t believe you. “Couldn’t find anyone else who could do it right?” You let your head fall back on the mattress as you felt his fingers run through your folds. “Nobody else could fuck you like I can, right sweetheart?”

“No, Jake.” You agreed. “Nobody else could fuck me like you can.” He let out a hum of satisfaction at your words, letting his middle and index finger slip inside you as his thumb drifted over your aching clit.

“Why is that?” He questioned, beginning to move his fingers at a slow pace. You were too immersed in the feeling of pleasure he was giving you to notice he spoke again. “Why can nobody else make you feel this way, baby?”

“Because I’m yours, Jake.” You let the possessive claim slip without care. You were his, and you only ever wanted to be his. “Because I love you.” You said, adding on to the original comment.

“Cause you’re all mine, angel.” He agreed, smiling at the thought. He curled his fingers upwards ever so slightly, hitting the sensitive spot inside you he’d grown to know so well. You let out a soft moan, moving your hips down on his hand for more. You were so desperate that under any other circumstances, you would be shameful. Now, with Jake on top of you, you couldn't care less. He knew how badly you needed him whether you said it or not; there was no hiding from Jake, and you were okay with that. “And I love you, too.” A whimper fell from your lips at the sound of his voice saying such sweet words.

“Fuck,” you groaned, feeling your abdomen tense with pleasure. You were so close, and he’d barely even started.

“Already?” He asked, amazed at the thought.

“It’s been a while,” you huffed, still too lost in the euphoria to care. “It feels so fucking good, Jake.”

“Tell me how good it feels, baby. Wanna hear all about it.” He encouraged you as he leaned down, moving his thumb from your clit and replacing it with his tongue.

“Oh, god.” You tangled your hand in his hair, needing more than he could possibly give you. Your whole body was ablaze with sin, once again falling victim to his routine. You tried so hard to stay away, but the truth was, you didn’t want to stay away. He was too fantastic at everything he did, and his company was too pleasurable to deny. You were in lust by the first touch and in love by the first conversation. Jake was something otherworldly, and you knew that from the very beginning. His love outweighed every consequence that you could face in hell. The devil was between your legs, and you were too weak to resist him. He had made you a fool for his sin, but just now were you realizing the extent of the damage.

As his fingers curled inside you again, the prescision in which they moved was almost too much too soon. You bucked your hips upwards against him, feeling the pressure rapidly increase in your stomach. You were right on the edge, and he barely had to try. He hummed against you, showing his appreciation of your enjoyment. Your heart was pounding against your chest, trying to break free from your ribs as he continued his torment. He was evil, but you could not seem to care because the evil was within you, too.

“You taste so fucking good,” he said, pulling back for just a moment to catch his breath. His words resembled a growl more than anything, and his grip tightened on your hip as he pulled you down further towards him.

“It’s all for you, baby.” You sighed, still lost in the feeling of his fingers pumping into you. He withdrew a long breath, trying to keep himself calm at the thought. There was no better feeling in the world than having you all to himself, and he never wanted to take it for granted again. Knowing he nearly lost you was painful, and he would not allow himself to be foolish enough to let you slip through his fingers again.

He returned his mouth to you, suctioning his lips sound your clit and throwing you straight back into euphoria. You tensed at the feeling, your fingers tightening in his hair as his name fell from your lips. You were praying to him as if he was the god that would save you, but he was nothing holy nor was he any force that could liberate you. He was the evil coursing through your veins, forcing you into the sin and coercing you into believing that it was right. He was the only man in the world who could drive you to such pleasure, but having such power told you that he was the exact entity you thought he was the entire time. You loved him too much to walk away, but he was too wicked to survive. As he worked you up to an orgasm, he was sucking the life from you at the same time. He was the very thing that kept your heart beating, and the very thing that would eventually take it away.

You were too far gone to realize you were in the grave; the dirt seemed pillowy and soft, warm and inviting despite the frost nipping at your skin, begging to freeze you there for the rest of eternity. Falling in love with Jake was the most painful death sentence you had ever faced, but he had such a way with his heart that he made death itself seem enjoyable. You were slipping away, but dying at his hands was the most pleasurable experience of your entire life, like it had been the exact thing you were born to experience.

The blissful feeling was so intense that you could feel it pulsing under your skin and behind your eyes. Your stomach was in knots, begging you to let go, but you feared that you would not survive the downfall. His fingers and tongue worked in time with each other to keep you on the edge, nearly pushing you over with every move. You couldn’t contain the orgasm, and he knew how close you were. Seven days without him was torture, and you felt like you had been deprived of your life’s greatest joy. He could feel how close you were; he knew your body better than you knew it yourself. The shallow breathing and the constant trail of moans that were falling from your lips told him all he needed to know, and the clench of your cunt around him solidified the idea. He was desperate for it, and you could feel that in the prescision of his movements.

“Jake,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as your head dropped to the mattress. “M’gonna cum.” You warned. He gave your hip a gentle squeeze, but did not change up his movements. It was his way of giving you silent permission to do so. With a ragged breath and an insatiable burning in your chest, your legs began to tremble from the intensity of the pleasure. All of your muscles were tense and every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire. After seven days of suffering, all of the pain and suffering seemed to be disappearing from your body the longer he carried on.

His name fell from your lips, mixed with a slur of curses and moans. The obscenities painted the walls with your sin, dripping down and ensuring they would remain in the foundation of the home until the end of time. There was not a single thing in the room that was not tainted with the wicked energy the two of you were exuding. He held you to him, ensuring you could soak up every second of pleasure the climax had to offer. You felt like you were going mad; your mind was a mess with thoughts all pertaining to the boy nestled between your legs. You feared that the intensity would never pass, your limbs aching with the rigid nature of your muscles and your lungs desperate for air.

Eventually, when he began to taper off his movements, the sensation began to fade. You relaxed against the mattress, finally able to fill your lungs with oxygen. When he pulled away from you completely, you were too dazed to notice the loss of contact. Your eyes were closed, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch up with the breaths you were deprived of momentarily. Your legs continued to tremble with the ghost of your orgasm and your stomach was still twisted into knots of pleasure. He did not move from his position, but instead got on his knees rather than laying on his stomach. His eyes were heavy with lust, crazed by the state you were in. He thought there was no way he’d be able to forget the way you looked when you were fucked out and drunk off him. It was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

Before you even came back to reality, he was lining himself up with your entrance. He guided your legs around him with little help from you, bracing his arm on the bed just beside your head. “You’re not giving up on me yet, are you angel?” He rasped, even his voice husky with the desire he was feeling for you. You managed to crack your eyes open at the sound of his voice, the sound too beautiful to ignore.

“I’m okay,” you promised, now focused on the feeling of his cock resting against you. The idea of fucking him was enough to give you the energy to continue on. “I promise.” You said, reaching up to touch his face. The feeling caused his eyes to flutter closed and a smile to blossom on his lips.

“That’s my girl.” He crooned, savouring the sensation only for a second before he was pushing himself inside of you. As much as he wished to live in the moment forever, he could not wait any longer. You both let out a hiss of relief, already needing more than you could have. “You always feel so fucking good.” He groaned, beginning at a slow pace. As much as he teased you for being so close so soon, he felt just the same. Seven days for him felt like an eternity without you, and he never wanted to experience it again. His hips moved slowly, but powerfully. The angle he had your hips settled at allowed him to reach a depth that made your head spin.

“J-just want to make you feel good, sir.” You whined, the sensitivity making his movements feel all the more enjoyable. His eyes darkened further at your words, the obedience driving him crazy. He’d never heard you be so submissive, and he wasn’t shy about his new found love for it. Not once had he gotten you into bed and did not hear a single argument or snide comment, but despite his love for the obedience, he couldn’t help but miss the sharp tongue you so often could not keep a hold of. He loved you for all of you, even your naturally argumentative self and your tendency to talk back. He was in love with everything you had to offer, and he knew that he always would be.

To make the devil fall in love is a daunting task, but within a few weeks, you had made yourself an expert in doing so.

“Yeah? You like being a little whore for me?” He asked, adding a little more power behind his thrusts. His cock brushed against your cervix, causing you to wince at the painful type of pleasure that shot through you. “You like it when I use you for whatever I want?”

“God, yes.” You muttered, looking up to meet his eyes. The sexual tension between you was so strong that it was hard to think of anything else, but there was something deeper, now. Connection, understanding, and love. The two of you had overcome the only barrier that had ever held you back. Fear was obsolete, replaced with the desire to know and to care. It was freeing, and the world seemed full of endless possibilities, now. You could not believe you had let the anxieties hold you back from something so wonderful and so fulfilling.

Then again, you knew that beneath the elation of your realizations, Jake was the one behind it all. The fear would never have left had he not been the one who you fell for. The risk would not be worth it if it were someone else between your legs, staring down at you with such admiration. Love was not worth it unless he was the one on the recieving end, nor would it be worth it if someone else were trying to give it to you. You knew that all you feared would be kept safe, locked up in his heart for eternity the same as it was in your own. He would keep every secret, every promise, and every failure safe. He would protect it as if his life depended on it, because he did not want anyone else to know all that he knew about you. He did not want anyone else to have the chance to have you like he did, and he did not want you to think that he was not the person he made you believe he was.

Your trust was the most important to him, and your love came second to that. He wanted you to depend on him, to let him in when the days seemed dark and dreary. He wanted you to share every tear and pain that you felt in your body, and he wanted you to share every failure and mistake. He wanted the goodness, but he wanted all of the bad, too. He loved you not just for your triumphs and successes, but also for your darkest moments. He wanted to be the person you could pour your heart into, no matter if it was happiness or sadness. He wanted you in your entirety, and he would love you through every single moment of your life, and even long beyond that.

The two of you went in search of sex, something to fill the void that was steadily growing in your hearts. You wanted casual without commitment, because neither of you yearned to bear your souls to another. Your sadness, your heartbreaks and your hurt had turned you cold, and made it so you wanted to keep everyone locked out. Intimacy in the emotional aspect scared the both of you beyond comprehension, yet in your search to find something to satiate the isolation, you had found so much more. In each other, you discovered all that you feared yet all that you needed all in the same place. You were terrified of love, yet craved it so badly it made your chest ache and your head spin. You were full of mistrust, yet desperate to find someone you could share your life with without fear.

It was not your job to seek love, but it had always been your duty to break down all of the barriers that prohibited it from entering your lives. In the three months of knowing each other, you did not intend or purposely search for love within each other, but you did break down every wall and defense you had built up prior to meeting each other. Because of that, love flowed in easily and endlessly, and the two of you were able to do the very thing you swore you would never do again.

Within each other, you found home. You found a hiding place, somewhere to rest and put down the burden of life for a while. You found friendship, connection, and purpose. You found a way to conquer your biggest fears and push your own boundaries enough to allow another inside.

In Jake, you had found everything you ever needed.

In you, he found everything he ever dreamed of.

Somewhere in the universe, the divine had found a way to forgive you for the wrongdoing and allow you a moment of peace. But, evil does not rest even when it seems like it has. Beneath the surface, the wicked forces were still working overtime to turn you rotten to the core. You had engaged in so much sin that your entire life was encrypted with it. Satan himself would draw back in fear if he looked into your eyes, yet the two of you were so blissfully ignorant to the fact that you felt as though you had repented enough to free yourself from the darkness.

“Come here, angel.” He said, pulling out of you for a moment. There it was again; the heavenly connotation to a woman so evil her own skin turned red.

He collapsed on the bed beside you, reaching out and pulling you on top of him. You were so distraught with the loss of contact that you let out an audible whine, but you did not have to suffer for too long. He guided your legs on either side of him, helping you position yourself so you could continue fucking. You planted your hand firmly on his chest, holding yourself up as he lined himself up with your entrance. His hands landed on your hips, his warm touch searing your cool skin. Without warning, he pulled you down on him with a strength that made your head spin. You let out a moan, telling him how good it felt when he filled you up in such a way.

“That’s better, sweetheart.” He muttered, helping you move your hips to maintain a steady rhythm. Once you were able to keep up the pace yourself, he removed one hand from you and brought it to your clit. He let his finger begin slow circles, encouraging you silently as you rode both of you into an orgasm. “Does that feel good?”

“Feels so good, sir.” You panted, grinding your hips downwards onto him. His jaw was tense, his teeth clenched tightly as he focused on the way your body was moving on him. First, he admired your face. The twisted expression of pleasure was enough to send him into a climax, but he managed to hold himself back, wanting to enjoy you for just a little while longer. Your lips were parted slightly as obscenities fell from your tongue, dripping down onto him and drowning him in the sinful sounds. His gaze trailed down your neck, taking in every available inch of exposed skin. He studied the way the columns of your neck flowed down into your collarbones, and all the way down to your breasts which were bouncing with every movement of your body. He wanted you to be in the position solely so he could admire you without any obstruction of view.

His eyes trailed down your stomach, watching your muscles tense with the pleasure that you were feeling. He looked down at his hand anchored around your hip, his fingers digging into the skin with a promise to leave finger-shaped bruised by the morning. He could not deny the feeling of euphoria at the thought of your body being marked with memories of him for days to come. Eventually, his gaze landed on your cunt, where his hand was delicately coaxing an orgasm and your hips were jointed with his, the two of you intertwined in the most intimate and intoxicating way.

You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he could not hold the thought to himself. If he had to hide it, he thought he might die from the pressure of the notion pulsing against his skull.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” He said, the words almost caught in his throat as he tried to speak them. The emotion in the room was heavy, weighing both of you down and inevitably pushing you even closer together. “I love you, y/n.” The profound nature of his words made your head spin and your heart skip a beat. You looked down, catching his eyes and seeing the sincerity pooling in his gaze.

“I love you, Jake.” You whispered, your hips stuttered as you spoke. You felt locked in, like your eyes could not look away from him even if your life depended on it. “I love you so much.” You repeated, the words freeing and lifting tons of weight from your shoulders. You were so happy to finally be able to say it, and now you never wanted to stop. You wanted to tell every person you stumbled across how fantastic he was and how much he meant to you, but a smaller, more selfish part of you wanted to keep him to yourself forever. He was yours and only yours, and you were the only one in the world lucky enough to have him.

“Cum for me, angel.” He said, his voice low and dripping with desire. He gave you the permission not because he was planning on denying you the pleasure, but because he feared he might die if you did not. He needed you like the starving need food, and he could not keep up with the demands of his heart. He needed everything from you all at once, and he needed it so much that he could not even think about anything else.

With his permission, you felt another wave of euphoria wash over you. This time, it was so intense that it felt like your whole body locked in reaction to it. You managed his name through the cries of pleasure, but it was barely noticeable. The only reason he picked up on it was because he spent every waking minute waiting for you to speak his name.

“That’s it, baby.” He said, gently guiding your lower half down towards him, still circling his finger around your clit. “Being such a good girl for me.” He hummed, pulling you into a kiss as soon as you were close enough to do so. You rode out your high with your lips locked with his, letting every moan fall into his mouth. He drank up the sound, each one pushing him closer to his own climax. When you relaxed against him, he slowly removed his hand from your cunt, bringing both hands to your hips to hold you in place. You were exhausted, and he could clearly see that. He decided not to push you, instead keeping you close to him and pulling your bottom lip between his teeth while he allowed you to calm down.

When your chest returned to the steady rise-and-fall rhythm, he started his own pace again. He held your hips in place, continuing the kiss as he fucked into you, working himself back up to his own orgasm. The sensation was intense, almost overwhelming as you tried to bargain with your own sensitivity from both orgasms. His pace was bruising, like always, but it was still intoxicating. You felt your stomach burn with pleasure once again, unbelieving of how fast you could feel the pressure of another orgasm begin to build. You had to break away from the kiss to catch your breath, the feeling becoming too much to bear. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of him inside you and the way he filled you up so perfectly.

“Again?” He asked, a cocky smirk on his lips as he tried to play down his own pleasures.

“A-ah, fuck, shut up!” You hissed, stumbling over your own words. He let out a low chuckle at your response, unbothered by your harsh tone.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I know how good I make you feel.” He said, tone dripping with pride. His ego took up space in the room even when you were fucking, and you hated to admit that you loved it. He continued on his pace, now pulling you down on him with every move of his hips. It was painful, but it was addicting. You wanted more, but you feared your body would not be able to handle it. A particularly high-pitched moan let him know that you were already there once again. His head fell back on the mattress, absolutely amazed by how attracted he was to you and how badly he affected you. “That’s it,” he encouraged “look at you.” He whispered to himself, his eyes burning into your face. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”

The compliment sent you over the edge for the third time, the sweet words too much for you to handle. You clenched around him, pulling him in even further as you unravelled. Your hand moved upwards grasping at his shoulder, holding yourself upright as he continued fucking into you. The pleasure was so plentiful that it quickly became the only thing you could think of; nothing else mattered other than him and the way he made you feel.

Jake was not far behind you, his movements becoming sloppy and moans falling steadily from his own lips. You thought he was ridiculous for believing you were the best thing the world had to offer, especially considering he got to wake up and look at himself in the mirror every morning. Jake was the most beautiful thing to ever walk the earth, and he was the most precious gift you’d ever had the chance to receive. His grip on you tightened as he pulled you down on him, holding you to him as he spilled his release into you. He muttered your name amidst the chaos, almost like it was the only thing he knew how to speak.

Instead of pulling out, he rested inside of you for a moment, pulling your top half down closer so he could wrap his arms around you. You rested your cheek against his chest, closing your eyes in bliss as you soaked up the intimacy you had missed so much. His hand traced shapes into your back, the delicate touch sending shivers down your spine and causing goosebumps to scatter across your skin. You ran your fingers through his hair, twisted the ends of the locks between your fingers as you listened to the soft thud of his heartbeat against his chest.

Love was filling the room, and this time, you both allowed yourselves to feel it. You welcomed it with open arms, inviting it in with a smile. It was in every touch and every breath, living in every word and shared glance. In that moment, life could not have been better. He moved his head down, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He let his lips linger there for a moment, closing his eyes as he thanked every higher power for allowing you to enter his life.

“I love you.” He muttered, the words coming out muffled due to his mouth still resting on your head. You smiled, the kind that made your cheeks hurt and your mind forget what it felt like to frown.

“I love you.” You said, placing a kiss to his chest.

“You want to get cleaned up?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed, nodding against him. “Then we can go to bed.” His chest burned with excitement at the thought of falling asleep next to you again, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

Carefully, he withdrew from you and you both stood. He stayed close to you as you walked to the bathroom, fearful that if you got too far away, he’d lose you forever. You made quick work and cleaning yourselves off, both eager to get into bed and hold each other until you fell asleep. As you walked back to your bedroom, he stopped and grabbed his bag he left in the kitchen, bringing it back with him. You grabbed one of his shirts from your drawer and threw it over your head. He slipped his boxers back on and waited for you to get into bed before joining you.

When you were both under the covers, he wasted little time turning on his side and pulling you closer to him. He settled his arm around your waist as you pressed your back against his chest. “Thank you for coming back, Jake.” You whispered, sleepiness laced in your tone.

“Are you kidding me?” He scoffed, also speaking quietly. “I want going to let you get away that easily.” You giggled at his words, snuggling in even closer. He tightened his arm around you, pulling you further into him.

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” You said, more specific than the last time. He didn’t respond straight away, instead nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

“I will fight for you until my very last breath, sweetheart.” He said, simply and seriously. He meant every word, and he did not want you to believe otherwise. “I love you, beautiful.”

“I love you, Jake.” You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes, sleep calling to you and quickly taking over. In your last conscious moment, you felt the warmth of his love surrounding you, but a familiar dread settled in your stomach. You loved him, and he loved you, but was it really going to be so easy? After struggling to give yourselves to each other, you had a hard time believing that the rest of your life could be so simple. More than that, you still feared the sins the two of you committed just to be together in that moment. Jake was the love of your life, and that was without a doubt. What did worry you was all of the other conclusions you had drawn about him, specifically in regards to his devilish nature.

Was a mortal man laying beside you, or had you invited Satan himself into your home until the end of time?

According to Wikipedia, ‘the seven deadly sins, also known as the capital vices or cardinal sins, is a grouping and classification of vices within Christian, particularly Catholic, teachings. According to the standard list, they are pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth, which are contrary to the seven heavenly virtues.’ The seven deadly sins you had committed with ease and little regret. You fell into the trap without even realizing it, and from there, you could not stop the rapid progression of your godless acts. You had sinned so much that you had forgotten what a virtue was, but more than that, the seven deadliest sins held no weight compared to the sin that only you had been indulging in.

The world did not know about the most sacrilegious of sins because he was in your bed with his arm draped around you, sleeping soundly. You were the only person in the world who knew the extent of his evil. He was more powerful than lust, and more intense than greed. He was greener than envy and he was more vicious than wrath. Jake Kiszka was the eighth, undiscovered, most deadly sin of all. He was all of the vices combined, and more so, the only force in the world that could be strong enough to make you commit all of them in one go. He was the embodiment of evil, thus leaving no other way to describe him; he was the devil, and instead of fearing him, you felt lucky to be in his presence.

You had sinned so much that somewhere along your wicked warpath, you’d sprouted devil horns of your own. His power did not scare you, because you held the same one within your heart. The only match for him was you, and the two of you were tied together with barbed wire and chains, now. When you moved too fast, the ache from the tension spread to your bones, but his kiss satiated the pain. Most of the time, his love was so good that you did not feel the restraints around you at all.

So seven became eight, and the sin had finally come to an end. Yours and Jake’s souls were intertwined infinitely, tainted with the blackness of evil and scorching with the heat of flames. You had reached your deadly end, and you had always feared that once the devil had made home, there was no escaping him. Now, the devil was for certain to stay, and you knew deep in your heart that no amount of repent would rid you from the damage you caused and the guilt that came with it. As you fell asleep wrapped up in him, you thanked god for bringing him back to you whilst knowing he was the very thing god was trying to strike down.

A fear settled deep in the pit of your stomach, wondering if soon, god would realize your mistakes and make his first attempt at striking you down, too.

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