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#it's just finally shaping up to be the story I wanted it to be back when I originally wrote it
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I bring you a fanfic from an alternate universe of Dead Boy Detectives, which you can find on Ao3 under my username Vale_mlcek.
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The creature that protected Charles Rowland.
Notes ;
This story is an alternate universe. It takes place before the events of the series, when Edwin and Charles were in London."
Summary
When Charles is about to be attacked by a ghost they were supposed to help, a strange creature comes to his rescue. Or Charles discovers a dark secret about Edwin.
Chaper 1
Charles rarely got scared. He was supposed to be the brave one on the team; he was the strength, after all. He was supposed to be the tough guy, right? But now, when a ghost they were supposed to help was about to deliver a final blow, Charles was scared.
He was already injured; the fight with that spirit had been tough, and he had to protect Edwin while he tried to find a spell to calm the ghost. However, it had taken too long. Charles finally accepted that he couldn't run away; his leg was "broken," and he was very hurt.
This was going to be painful, but at least Edwin was safe, far enough from the battlefield. Charles closed his eyes, waiting for the ghost's final blow. But... it never came.
When Charles opened his eyes, he saw a dark creature. It was like a shadow in the shape of an owl, a huge and terrifying owl with four intense red eyes. The new creature had shredded the ghost as if it were nothing, devouring its soul like it was candy. Charles didn't know there were creatures that devoured ghosts. He looked around for Edwin and got scared when he didn't see him anywhere, fearing the creature in front of him had done something to him.
He tried to stand up to defend himself. The dark owl turned to look at him, and for Charles, it was strange because he felt something very familiar in the beast's gaze. The owl approached him. He didn't know if the giant animal would harm him, but it didn't seem like it. Charles then remembered that five minutes ago, the owl had saved him; even so, he couldn't let his guard down.
The owl pointed with its head at Charles's injured leg, giving him a strange look of concern. Charles got nervous, not understanding the beast's sudden empathy. This was all too surreal, and he still couldn't see Edwin anywhere. He didn't have time to heal his wound or anything.
However, the dark bird got closer to the wound. The owl rested its head on the injured spot, and then dark shadowy tendrils covered Charles's leg. He felt a slight tickle, but in a few minutes, the leg was as good as new. Charles looked at the owl in amazement; maybe he could trust it.
Charles could now stand up. He wanted to approach the owl, but it backed away and began to... transform? The owl began to shrink until it ended up as a humanoid shadow. That shadow solidified, only to take on the appearance of Edwin.
Charles was stunned, not knowing if this was Edwin or not. Maybe it was all a trap; he didn't know, as Edwin's eyes settled on him, but they were an intense red, different from his best friend's brown eyes, more like the owl's eyes.
"Ed-Edwin?" he asked uncertainly. As soon as he spoke, Edwin's eyes returned to normal. His best friend coughed a little and looked at him again.
"Sorry you had to see that, but I had to do something, or you would have been seriously hurt," Charles then realized that the owl had indeed been Edwin. This was disorienting, to say the least. Then his companion started walking quickly as if fleeing from him, but Charles immediately followed. This wouldn't be left unresolved.
"Wait, I don't understand. What was all that? Was it a new magic trick?" he sounded a bit angry, but he was more confused than upset, wanting to understand everything that had just happened a few minutes ago.
"No, it was me. It's a secret ability I gained in hell. I don't have control over it; it only comes out when it senses danger," Edwin explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Even so, Edwin looked a little tense.
"But we've been in danger many times before, and you never... I don't know... you never transformed into a giant owl," Edwin sighed and abruptly stopped walking. He clenched his fists tightly. Charles knew he was quite nervous and, if his eyes weren't deceiving him, he could see some dark feathers clinging to his friend's hands, confirming that everything that happened was real.
"I controlled it, that's why. I kept it at bay..." Charles watched as the feathers fell from Edwin's hands. His best friend nervously wiped his hands. "...because when I'm in that form, I'm capable of devouring souls, and that's, to say the least, unprofessional and dangerous for everyone. I'm a monster in that form, and what happened today shouldn't happen again." Charles somewhat agreed that it was dangerous, but he wouldn't call Edwin a monster, as he didn't miss the fact that the owl had healed his wound and didn't try anything against him. So, deep down, he was still Edwin.
"But you didn't attack me; you did devour the ghost that wanted to attack me... So I understand that some things got out of your control. I know you wouldn't do that. What I don't understand is that... you weren't in danger... I had put you in a safe place and-"
"But you were," Edwin interrupted. "And when the ghost was about to hurt you, I couldn't control it anymore. She wanted to protect you, and to be completely honest, so did I." Charles felt his cheeks flush a bit; he had never seen this protective side of Edwin, and he didn't dislike it at all.
"I guess she liked me then," Charles laughed. Edwin rolled his eyes.
"I suppose she did." Charles sighed and gently took Edwin's hands.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" It was Edwin's turn to sigh heavily; the nervousness seemed to return to him suddenly.
"I already told you, I'm a monster in that form, and... a very terrifying one. You don't know everything I had to do to get out of hell, everything she did... I feared that you..." Edwin began to tremble; Charles took his hands more firmly.
"You feared I would see you as a monster?" Edwin looked away. Charles looked at his companion as if he were the most beautiful thing in the world. He took Edwin's face and made him look at him again. "Listen to me, Edwin Payne, there's nothing in this world that would make me see you as a monster. You are one of the kindest people I have ever known. I gave up the afterlife to stay with you. There will be nothing, and I repeat, nothing that will make me leave your side, not even the fact that you can transform into a soul-devouring owl." Edwin's eyes were already filled with tears, and Charles couldn't help but hug him.
"Thank you," Edwin stammered. Charles simply stayed there, hugging him, making small circles on Edwin's back to calm him down, which worked. They stayed like that for several minutes until they were ready to go home.
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"This is Edwin's owl form interacting with the rest of the characters."
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gobstoppr · 14 days
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Tetris Fanart.
I've been playing tetris while listening to horror podcasts. and yeah
#text#art#eyestrain#cw eystrain#bright colors#cw bright colors#tetris#nintendo#god i dont know what to tag this with. i dont wanna tag it with the podcasts themselves cuz that feels disingenuous. swagever#i actually started this piece a while ago. ok yeah looking at the date that was almost 3 weeks ago wow#but i finally decided to bring it back and finish it#ive been getting back into digital art and its been really nice. its nice having finished pieces.#ive been trying to get weirder with my art. like this piece was weirdly 'personal' in a sense#its been my unique experience listening to these pieces of media. the game in the bg is jsut as important to my experience as the art itsel#the looming sense of dread these podcasts give fit weirdly well with the high tension of some of these games of tetris#i wanted to have that sorta weird ominous vibe to it. have even the pieces feel loud and threatening.#and the gameplay being Past the ds itself is something i thought could be neat#ykno the tetris effect? where you play a bunch and then after you see the shapes everywhere;you play it in your mind?#that was part of what i wanted to channel there. but also like; how your attention works with this stuff#i might be looking straight at the ds but my attention is elsewhere; my brain is in another world#the game is still inescapable tho. tetris effect whatever. these stories stick in my brain just as much.#its all given me some. very very annoyingn anxiety. but i have to go back to them. like a moth to a flame etc. hince the moth climbing out#but uh yeah. that set up was my life for a few weeks whenever i had free time.#the main podcast this is about was magnus btw <- not typing full name so im not on the tag#and uh.#objectum#yeah i think. i think yeah.
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arolesbianism · 2 months
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Thinks oh so hard abt the spiraling upwards clan founders, especially the birchclan founders. Silly lil kitties who's pasts are drenched in blood with the primary regret of not drawing it sooner
#rat rambles#oc posting#warriors posting#spiraling upwards#long story short they had a shitty awful terrible leader who sucked absolutely ass and they tore him to shreds#I mean that literally they pinned him onto the mountain side and slashed and mauled the shit out of him so hard that his lives evaporated#and several of the cats involved in that scene are sill alive and major parts of the story and I love them#oh also the cat that pinned him through a stab through the throat was his own daughter btw everyone hated his ass so much#and for good reason get his ass#alas in the main story I dont rly get to go too deep into how he harmed everyone involved mostly just three main ones#aka bristlestar because shes murtlepaw's ghost mom dawncrackle because hes also haunting murtle and gullspot because shes bristle's kit#so basically all the flashbacks we get involve those three in some form or another#honeystar was also there and involved but Im not currently planning on having her rly talk abt that#most of her more modern angst is the fact that she was forced into leadership against her will#and shes been alive long enough that shes been leading birchclan far longer than she ever lived in her old clan#but she did go through a lot of shit before birchclan was founded and it definitely shaped her a lot#she used to be a very determined and high spirited lil kitty cat who tried to be optimistic#but her family began to slowly be picked off one by one by both the old leader and the one whod later get evicerated#some of the older cats around her hoped it make her back down from her revelutionary ideas but she noticed that and it backfired on them#instead of being worn down to submission she became absolutely Furious and began to lash out more and become more demanding#it got to the point that she really only had two friends in the entire clan and one of them was her aunt whod later also die after coming#out abt having witnessed the leader killing his own kits#that was the final fucking straw for her and she was fully on board when bristle and dawn started looking for cats to join their rebellion#she did get rly frustrated with them as they waited patiently for the right moment but her remaining bestie kept her from going apeshit#so once the big fight finally broke out she was more than eager to join the hoard of cats chasing the bastard upwards#now unlike some of the other cats involved this legitimately actually made her feel a lot better for a while#for the first time in ages she finally felt like she could be optimistic abt smth again and was excited abt the idea of leaving this place#she had lost so much in this damn place since she was an apprentice and just wanted to finally be able to rest easy#but once they got to their new territory and set up camp things went south real fast as a flood fucked everything up#and after losing the only cat she had left in her life and losing her tail and being made deputy on top of that she deteriorated quickly
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aberooski · 6 months
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I've been working really hard on Sons of The Stars (abby's version)(from the vault) the last few days and I'm serious when I tell you with the way it's going, if you've read SoTS before... no you haven't.
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myname-isnia · 3 months
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Suddenly got this really weird off-putting feeling in my chest that I usually get when I’m about to cry over something, but also with some general iffyness thrown into the mix, and for once instead of immediately giving in to it or getting pissed at my mind I tried to figure out where it came from
Turns out I would have been completely justified in getting pissed at my mind because turns out, the cause is that I thought about a fic concept I was really excited about a few months ago that I never ended up writing because I couldn’t get into the flow from the very first sentence. I thought about it for a whole five seconds and now we’re here. Fucking great
#I need the ability to shut my brain off bc it’s always dead set on making me upset#yeah no shit I’m depressed and passively suicidal of course my mind is my worst enemy. but still. very mature thing to get hysterical about#and like. I barely even tried with that fic. I was riding that Astraphobia high back then#and thought I finally managed to achieve what other writers always went on and on about re: enjoying writing#yeah I know. I spent years writing without once enjoying the process or the final result. idk why I kept at it for so long#so I was feeling genuinely unstoppable and when the idea came to me I was super excited about writing it#but then I wasn’t really sure how to start it or how to even go about describing what I wanted to go down#I typed up a few sentences and it all just felt extremely wrong#so instead of acting like the adult I nearly am and like. leaving it to sit for a while as I gathered my thoughts#or trying out a few other approaches or starting with a different scene and filling the rest in later#I just threw a fit over it and abandoned the whole fic#but I still really like the idea and would like to see it realised. and who’ll do that if not me? kat has her own stories to worry about#so every so often I remember that excitement I felt at the prospect of getting to write it#and how quickly it faded when it didn’t feel as effortless as most of astraphobia did#and how that really felt like the greatest betrayal because it seemed as if the spark I spent so long trying to cultivate and light#was just doused with freezing water right in front of me. by my own mind no less#so… I suppose that betrayal will continue to haunt me still. probably until I pull myself together and write that fic#regardless of the pain and tears it will cause. and I know it will. that’s what forcing fics out always feels like#and I’m saying forcing out fics bc the only time I felt like an actual writer was when I wrote Astraphobia#all the other times I was just stubbornly shoving the wrong puzzle pieces together. or forcing square shape into round holes like a toddler#but regardless. I will keep remembering the idea and feeling like shit over failing at it unless it gets written#by me or kat and it shouldn’t be her job to write fics for me bc I’ll throw a fit if she doesn’t#exaggerated. but the point is there. I can’t expect anyone to disarm the triggers in my brain. only I can do that#and if writing that fic will stop me from getting hysterical at the tiniest thought of it. then it seems like I’ll have to see to it#even if it takes a huge mental load. it’ll be worth it in the long run bc I’ll have one less writing-related thing to cry about#I just wish I knew how to go about it better. I have clear ideas about the main part of the fic but the inciting incident + details evade me#I guess I’ll just have to figure it out. I have to stop saying ‘it is what it is’ and continuing to stew in the self hatred#something needs to be done. and in this case the only thing that will remove the trigger is the fic being written#I think part of me always knew that but tried to ignore it and hoped those feeling would fade with time. but of course they didn’t.#so… I guess it’s never been clearer what I have to do. my fate is in my own hands. one trigger less certainly wouldn’t hurt
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a-b-riddle · 1 month
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Part 7
Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader
(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)
No harm done yet.
You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.
You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.
But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.
You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.
Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?
Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?
You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.
It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.
The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.
Whatever.
Fuck him.
You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.
By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.
You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.
Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.
"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.
She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....
You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.
Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.
Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.
But they looked hot. Really hot.
"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."
"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."
"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."
A little over two years ago
"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."
"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.
"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."
"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.
"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."
"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.
"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.
"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.
"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.
What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.
Dead. Perfect.
The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.
He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.
It wasn't always great to be right.
When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.
You fucking bolted.
Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.
You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.
"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.
You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.
He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.
It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.
The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.
Fear.
You were afraid.
You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.
Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.
"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."
"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"
"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.
"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.
"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.
"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.
Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.
"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."
"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.
"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.
"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."
"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.
Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.
You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.
You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.
Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.
No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.
"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"
You felt your cheeks flush with heat.
"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.
There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.
You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.
Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.
You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.
"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"
"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.
"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."
"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.
Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.
You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.
Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.
Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.
"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.
"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.
Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.
"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."
"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.
They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.
And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.
You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.
Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?
You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.
You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.
Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.
John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.
Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?
Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.
Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.
John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.
Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.
So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.
"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.
Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.
"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.
You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.
The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.
Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.
Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-
"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.
"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.
"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'
"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.
"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.
Jesus, when did you become so harsh.
I blame Simon.
"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....
Little bitch.
"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?
"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.
"There's no need for that-"
"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.
"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."
"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"
And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.
You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"
"My friends call me-"
"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."
His expression fell.
"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.
"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."
You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.
"What did you do?" Mere asked.
"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.
"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.
"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.
"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."
"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.
"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."
"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.
"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.
"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.
"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."
"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.
"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."
"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.
"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."
"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."
"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"
"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.
"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.
Unfortunately, it did not.
You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.
Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.
"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.
You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.
"You mean like they did you?"
And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.
"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.
"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.
Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.
Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?
It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.
What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.
"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.
"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.
"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"
You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?
"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."
"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.
"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.
And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.
But you didn't need to do any of that.
In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.
"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.
You could handle you own against Percy.
But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.
You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.
"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.
You knew that all too well.
Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"
It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.
Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.
You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.
"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.
He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.
Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.
It was a promise.
"We're over." You reminded.
"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"
"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."
"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."
The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.
"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.
"I know you did."
"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.
"Just did." Was his only answer.
"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.
"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.
"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.
"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.
"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."
He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.
His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.
He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?
He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.
You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.
But you didn't.
You were tired.
So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."
"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"
There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.
With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.
Only this time, it was directed at you.
One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'
"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."
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studioghibelli · 5 months
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always yours- a joel miller x reader
summary: joel has carried guilt with him his entire life, especially after losing you many years ago. you were young and naive, and joel was cold and distant, a match that simply wasn’t meant to be. (so he thought.) when he and ellie finally make it to wyoming, he’s in for the surprise of a lifetime.
warnings: joel pov for a bit, pining, so so much pining, ellie and joel dynamics, a lot of angst, various flashbacks throughout the story, guilt is one of the main themes of this piece of writing, a rather large age gap that is the center of joel’s guilt, a very brief mention of joel having sex with another woman (tess), post outbreak, and of course- smut. (allusion to m receiving oral, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, f receiving oral, some dirty talk.) mdni
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The smell of pine swirled lazily in the air, the promise of a fresh snowstorm making its way through the tree line like the wafting scent of slow baking cookies. The white ground crunched beneath Joel’s leather boots, imprinting the shadow of their soles into the thick wintered earth. With each step his bones ached, shoulders heavy with the fate of the world.
Behind him, a figure trucked lazily behind, giggles occasionally filling his ears.
“What’re you up to back there?”
“Hey, hey. Check this one out, Joel. Why did the can crusher quit his job?” There was a long moment of silence. “Because it was….. soda pressing. Ha! Get it?” Ellie jogged closer to Joel, nudging him with her elbow. “Do you- do you get it, Joel?”
A heavy grunt escaped the man. “Yeah, I get it.” A tooth pick hung loosely from his lips as he glanced down at the girl, a slow roll of his eyes following.
“Want to hear some more?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Okay. Okay… that’s fine.” Ellie cleared her throat, humming as she took in the world around her. “I do have something on my mind. Something real heavy.”
Joel looked at her, his eyes glossed over with a hint of concern. “What is it?”
“Last week I….I-” Ellie paused, sniffling a bit, feigning a look of guilt. “Last week I called someone a watering hole, but I swear I meant well!”
Joel stopped, his jaw clenching momentarily before he met the gaze of Ellie who, in the midst of her terrible joke, was choking back a roar of laughter. He sighed out, shoulder slacking, before giving in to the chuckle stuck in his throat.
“Okay, okay. That wasn’t half bad, I’ll give you that.”
“You’re laughing! I made you laugh! I know you liked that one.”
“I did. Don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Joel shook his head with the hint of a grin teasing against his mouth. “Now quit with the shitty jokes, alright? You’ll miss the scenery.”
Ellie saluted him sternly, giving him a thick nod. “Aye, aye, Captain!” She declared.
Joel sucked in a thick breath.
You were staring at him, with your big, beautiful eyes, gnawing on a stale, unseasoned piece of venison jerky. The flickering flames of the campfire in front of you illuminated your face with glimmering sheens of orange, blanketing the hue of your skin with crimson and gold. A sunset, personified.
He stared at you, long and hard, analyzing every inch of you, taking in your beauty. He wanted to drown in it. The softness of you lips, the apples of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose. Joel wondered how smooth your skin was, how the curve of your waist would feel against his calloused palms, how the heat of your breath would feel fanning against his throat. His eyes dragged down to your small hands, eyeing your manicured nails. What shape would they imprint upon his skin?
“Who the fuck made this shit, Joel?” You guffawed, rubbing your eye with your free fist. “I hate jerky. Tired of it!”
“Well, you’ve just never had good jerky. Before the end times, we had lots of good brands. Jack Link was pretty popular. Was my favorite.” Joel looked at you, a stray curl falling against his forehead as he set the paper bag down. “Ever heard of them?”
“No. Never. When…. all this happened, I was too young to remember. I’ve got no memories from that time, honestly.”
It was a simple statement. One that shouldn’t have made Joel’s stomach clench and turn. Yet it reminded him. It reminded him of his age, of your youth, your naïveté. His chest tightened with the deep feeling of wrongness, the bitter taste of guilt like bile in the back of his throat.
“Don’t, uh, don’t remind me.” Joel mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
You, none the wiser to the war raging on in his mind, laughed sweetly, saluting him lazily as you finished the last of your venison jerky. “Aye, aye, captain!”
“Hey.”
“Hey!”
“Heyyyy!”
Joel’s neck snapped towards the noise, where Ellie stood still, leaning against the thick trunk of a pine tree. “Huh?”
“Dude, you were just standing there. Like a fuckin’ statue. You okay? I thought you were dying.”
Joel rubbed a scruffy cheek, the thick bristles of hair irritating his fingers as he stared into the distance, taking in a deep breath before resuming his walking. “I’m fine. Let’s jus’ keep goin’, onwards and upwards. Should be there in a day or so.”
“Whatever you say, man.” Ellie kicked a stray pebble in front of her, jogging every so often to meet the long strides of Joel.
In front of her, Joel was lost in deep thought.
He felt the ache of remorse tugging at his heart. A reminder it still worked. A reminder he was still human, still alive and breathing. A human, a man, who hoped and yearned and craved and cried. A man who loved. This remorse, this pain, this guilt, that had corroded away at his soul piece by piece, kept him stable and nailed to the ground. It was a nudge towards the idea that perhaps after all these years of killing, after the taste of blood and haze of destruction, perhaps his heart was still capable of something good, something right.
Joel thought he was right, when he did what he did. Even with the tsunami of tears threatening your eyes, even with the quivering of your lip, the tight furrow of your brows, the embarrassment on your face- even with the sheer look of pain and betrayal that you wore like a masquerade mask- Joel felt that what he did was for the best. That the line in the sand he carved with his own bare hands would help you in the end.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel warned, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t look at me like that, girl.”
“Why?” There was a shrill crack to your syllables, a dejected figure emerging from the shadows of your mouth. “Does it make you feel bad? Am I hurting your feelings?”
“This is worse enough as is. I don’t need you flashin’ them puppy dog eyes at me. Ain’t gonna change a thing.”
“So you just used me. Fucked my mouth until you got what you wanted. And now what, Miller? Now what? Gonna ignore me? Gonna start doin’ runs with Tess again like there was nothing between us?” Venom dripped from your incisors as you took a step towards him. Your tears, your sadness, the heavy weight of your heart had been replaced with rage. Burning hot rage. It consumed you until it was oozing from you, spilling from your eyes, your mouth, your nostrils. It was you.
“Yeah. That’s what I’m goin’ to do. ‘Cause you’re right, kid. There wasn’t shit between us.”
Ellie’s humming brought him back to reality, clearing his mind of any thoughts, before she broke the silence with a dreadful question:
“Did you ever have any girlfriends, back at the QZ in Boston?”
“Told you not to ask me any questions like that.”
“I know, I know. But it seems like things with you and…. with you and Tess were weird. I remember what she said, how she never asked you to feel what she felt.” Ellie cleared her throat, gripping ahold of the straps on her backpack. “But, you know, it got me thinking. If someone as cool as Tess liked an old fart like you, some other chicks would have had to, too. Right?”
Joel sighed a deep, tired sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Me and Tess…. we weren’t. We- just. No. Tess and I, there was nothing there.”
Ellie held her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Geez, no need to throw a bitch fit, asshole.”
“Watch it.” He grumbled, adjusting the strap of his rifle. “But there was one girl.”
“Really? What was she like? What was her name? What did she look like?”
“Slow down, Ellie, slow down. Way too many questions. I’ll answer one. One! So pick wisely.”
Ellie walked in silence for a moment, rubbing her cheeks in thought as though she had a beard. She nodded with a sense of finality, catching up with Joel’s long strides. “Why did you like her?”
Why did Joel like you? Why did he love you? What was so special about you that Joel, a man concrete in his stoicism, a man lost in his own selfish, distant ways, could crumble at the sheer thought of you? What was so special about your sparkling eyes that made his chest pound? What was so special about your soft voice that made his jaw slack? What was so special about your gentle touch that made his body shiver?
How could a giant such as Joel Miller come crashing down at the feet of someone like you? Someone so pure, so happy, so kind and thoughtful? How could Joel have ever let something like that happen? How could he have been such a fool?
“Hello? Earth to Joel.” Ellie waved her hand in front of Joel’s face, eliciting a groan.
“Um…” He scratched at his chin.
“When I was a little girl all I wanted, the one thing that mattered most to me in the world, was to go to the zoo. My momma used to tell me all these stories. How you could touch the stingrays, feed the giraffes… But you know what I want to see most of all? The gorillas.”
Joel was staring out the window, keeping watch as you shuffled through the drawers of the abandoned room, looking for extra stuff that could be worth smuggling. His eyes scanned the road, but he was mostly interested in listening to you. Quickly and slyly he turned to look at you.
He saw the glimmer glistening through your gaze, the smile lines crinkling ever so slightly at the corners of your eyes as your pretty lips turned up into a big grin. Your face was aglow with passion, your heart pinned proudly to your sleeve. You were the exact opposite of him when it came to that, it only drew him closer, like a moth to a flame.
“The zoo? I went to the zoo. Took my daughter all the time to the one in Austin. Never saw a gorilla though, not up close. Just on the Animal Planet.”
“Animal Planet?”
And there it was, that familiar twinge of guilt. “Yeah. It was a TV Channel.” Joel explained with a grimace, his voice soft and quiet. “You, uh, you find anything good yet?”
“Nah. Just a half empty box of condoms and some bandaids.”
“Condoms? We could use those.” Joel explained, turning to you quickly.
A look of surprise crept on to your face. You hoped you hid the butterflies erupting in your stomach well enough. Surely it was a slip of tongue, you thought- Joel was never forward like that.
Realization soon dawned on his face when his words finally settled in. “Not….. not us, I mean. For- for trading. Could get some ration cards. The, I mean- I would never be…. I- Uh.” A guttural noise of defeat escaped him as he slumped into the wall, groaning deeply against the palms of his hands that his face was now buried in. “Forget I said anything.” Joel seethed through gritted teeth.
“You sure do have a way with words, cowboy.” You teased. A beautiful laugh, one that haunted Joel, escaped your chest as you threw the box of condoms towards him. “There you go, lover boy.”
“Her laugh.” Joel finally broke the silence, his eyes secured to the track in front of him. “She was always laughing. Real happy, curious, always day dreaming. She was….”
“The exact opposite of you.” Ellie filled in, laughing to herself. “Man, she sounds great. And she liked you back?”
“I said one question a day.”
“But-”
“No buts. You can ask another one tomorrow.”
“Well, can you at least tell me her name?”
Before Joel could stop himself, the syllables of your name rolled from his tongue. He hadn’t spoken it out loud in years. He promised himself he wouldn’t, not after losing you. But it escaped him quicker than he could stop it, like a dog running from its cage, sniffing its way to freedom.
Ellie repeated it to herself. “That’s real pretty.” She hummed in approval, and Joel continued walking, his eyes stirring with the burning hot threat of tears.
Angry, regretful, bitter tears.
“Have you seen her anywhere?” Joel was pacing his room, frantically throwing supplies on to the bed. “Did she- did she say anything? Where she was going? What she was doing?”
“Joel.” Tess’ voice rang through the air. “Joel.”
“What? I need to get to her, God dammit.”
“She’s gone, Joel. Said she left four days ago. You won’t be able to find her.” Tess rested a hand on his shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking up at the disheveled, broken man before her.
“This is all my fault.” A single sob racked through his body as he fell down beside her. “Putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger would have been the exact same thing. She’ll die out there, Tess.” Joel buried his face in his hands as he fell back, jaw clenching in unison with his flaring nostrils as he sat and stewed in the crashing waves of resentment. “She’s going to die, and I won’t be there to protect her.”
Teas traced her hand down the broadness of Joel’s back, taking in a sharp breath. “You’re right. Better move on now, we have work to do. If you’re going to get over it someday, you might as well do it now.” If there was one thing Tess wasn’t going to do, it was sugar coat things. Especially not for Joel fucking Miller. “So get up, stop crying, and do your fucking job. You got it?”
That night Joel drunkenly fucked Tess with her face in the pillow and ass in the air, and the whole time he imagined it was you.
Dusk was soon approaching by the time Joel had rolled out his and Ellie’s sleeping bags. The canvas of the sunset was being torn apart by sparkling stars, the moon illuminating the snow covered trees surrounding them. It was a quiet, peaceful night, shrouded with the sort of yearning and hope that only came once the sun set.
“Can we start a fire? Please, Joel?” Ellie was shivering beneath her sleeping bag, pulling her jacket tighter to her chest.
“Use my bag. I’ll take watch while you sleep.”
“We’ve been walking for like, a hundred hours. You need sleep too. Nobody will find us here. We’re in the middle of butt fuck nowhere.”
“You don’t know that. Now take my bag or stop whining.” Joel’s voice was gruff as he sat against the tree, the light of the lantern illuminating the hardness of his face.
“Okay, geez. Don’t have to be an asshole.”
“Go to sleep, Ellie.”
Joel hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He never liked sleeping, for many different reasons. The lack of control, the possibility of danger, the lurking nightmares about his past. But most of all, he hated sleeping because they brought him dreams of you.
In the beginning, when he had you, dreams of your body, or your face, of your voice- they were all welcomed. He would wake up in his mattress, bathing like a cat in the golden rays of sunshine, and would go about his day slightly less grumpy. Not a changed man, by any means, but how could a man be completely cold and detached after a visit from an angel?
But now these dreams were different. He would wake, not quite remembering them in their entirety, but always feeling the heavy burden of loss thick in his mouth, like phlegm during a nasty cold. For the rest of the day he would think of you, unable to shake the memory of your face away from his mind. You had branded him like a cow at the slaughterhouse.
Joel knew he was yours forever, always yours, despite the pitter pattering footsteps of guilt that followed him around like a needy child.
Tonight, he dreamed of his past memories with you.
“Oh, this is a good one.” Joel hummed out as he turned the record player up ever so slightly. “This is Nat King Cole. My mom used to play his stuff while she was cookin’.”
Sometimes I wonder how I spend the lonely night,
Dreaming of a song. The melody, haunts my reverie,
And I am once again with you, when our love was new.
“He’s got a nice voice.” You quipped. You swung your legs off the desk, walking towards him before extending your hand.
He looked at you like you were crazy. “What’re you doin’?”
“Dance with me.”
“Dancin’ is a dangerous game. I ain’t no good at it.”
“That doesn’t matter. Come on. Just dance with me, cowboy!” Your giggles ignited the air with sparks of comfort, warming Joel’s body through with the familiar pang of affection he so often suffered from when he was around you. He thought on it for a moment before letting out a long sigh.
“Fine. But if you tell anyone about this I’ll… I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Spank me? Come on, just live a little. If it was actually the end of the world none of us would be here. So be alive and human with me tonight, and dance.”
Joel stood, looking down at you as his hands found your body. He rested one palm against the small dip of your waist, his other finding your hand, quickly engulfing it, wrapping around your fingers like a blanket. You swayed, barely shuffling your feet, a smile of contentment washing across your face.
“See?” You hummed. “This is nice.”
He stayed silent, swaying with you to the crooning voice of Nat King Cole. Joel sucked in a sharp breath as your cheek rested against his chest. He ran his hand down to the small of your back, instinctively pulling you closer.
And now my consolation is in the stardust of a song,
Besides the garden wall when stars are bright,
You are in my arms, a paradise where roses grew
Though I dream in vain…
“Joel?” You whispered, craning your neck to look up at him.
His eyelids fluttered open, lips parting ever so softly as his eyes met yours. Chocolate irises, flashes of gold glittering within them, drunk every inch of your face up, memorizing you as thought it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Hmm?”
“Will you kiss me?” The question escaped you before you could think, your eyes slightly widening at the boldness which preceded you.
Joel stopped swaying. He looked down at you, a thumb slowly tracing across your cheekbone.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I- I wasn’t thinking.” Your face was hot with embarrassment, and your hand on his shoulder quickly dropped.
Joel remained quiet as he gently grabbed your fallen hand, moving it back to his shoulder, up towards his face, until you were cupping his cheek. “You really want me to?” He asked softly, curiously, his thumb gently running across your lower lip. You nodded without hesitation.
He leaned forward, the curve of his nose brushing against the tip of yours as he moved both of his hands to hold your face, eyes open and staring in to yours, as though he were trying to make his way through your soul. A stabbing breath hitched in the back of your throat as you gently pressed your body to his, lips mere centimeters away.
“Joel…” You whispered softly.
He paused right before your mouth, eyes now full of remorse, wide and guilty like a petulant child who had just been caught red handed. When he spoke, you felt his moustache tickle your cupid’s bow.
“I… I can’t. I can’t do it.”
“Do you not like me?”
“That’s not the issue, darlin’. It’s the… opposite of that, actually. But I just- I… I gotta go. I’ll stop by tomorrow with some more ration cards.” Joel pulled away from your body, rushing to the door.
“Joel, wait. Joel!” But before you could stop him, he had already left. Your heard his footsteps soon disappear, left with nothing but the scratching vinyl.
In my heart, it will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love’s refrain.
Joel awoke with a violent jerk, to the bitter smell of coffee and the bright warning of morning light.
“Wakey, wakey sleepy head. Made you some coffee!” Ellie smiled at Joel as she dug her heels into the dying fire, handing Joel the metal cup of brown liquid.
“I told you no fires, Ellie. Someone could see us.”
“It’s fine. It’ll be okay. And if anyone comes and tries to hurt us, I’ll use my super slick Ninja skills I learned on ‘em! Promise! Now drink your nasty bean juice and let’s get going.” Ellie rolled up the sleeping bags as Joel stared into space, sipping his coffee before dumping the rest of it out.
“How long was I out for?”
Ellie shrugged, walking beside him as they made their way towards the open valley. “No clue. But you were muttering to yourself. Woke me up.”
“Was I? Mutterin’ what?”
Ellie looked at him, a small, sad smile playing on her mouth. When she said your name, his stomach turned. That beautiful name. That terrible, awful name that haunted him at every corner. It crept through his mind like a ghost, in and out of the hallway of his memories, refusing to ever leave.
“Weird.” Joel finally said, after a long, thick, uncomfortable silence. “Let’s…. let’s head out now.”
An hour or so had passed, hiking through the forest towards the open valley, before Ellie realized Joel had been whistling. She had never heard him whistle before. And, like always, her curiosity got the better of her.
“What is that?” She asked.
“What’s what?” Joel answered, looking around to try and pin down what she was talking about.
“The song you’re whistling. What is it? I like it.”
“Oh.” Joel hadn’t noticed he had been making any noise. “It’s called Stardust. An old song, before my time even.”
“Who’s it by?”
“There are a few renditions, I can’t remember who did it first. My favorite version was by Nat King Cole.” Joel explained, clearing a makeshift path through the jutting branches and scratching leaves.
“I’ve got my one question, you know.” Ellie stated with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “About her.”
“M’kay. Make it quick.” His voice grumbled out lowly like an over worked furnace, eyebrows tight together as he walked ahead of her.
“Where’d she go?” Ellie finally mustered up the courage to ask the question, slowly looking at Joel’s back. She noticed how it stiffened at the question, and for a moment she regretted ever asking anything.
But Joel’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. “What do you mean?” He finally choked out, clearing his throat.
“Like, if you liked her so bad, why isn’t she with us? You’ve protected me all this way. I-… I can’t imagine the lengths you would go for someone you actually liked.” Ellie joked, trying to lighten the air, the air which had suddenly grown so chewable, so thick and stuffy.
“I don’t hate you, kid.” Joel mumbled, rubbing at his face. “She, uh, she left. While I was out doin’ a run with Tess. Just up and vanished. No note, no nothin’.”
Ellie could feel the pain radiating from Joel, although she couldn’t quite pin point it in his words. He was good at hiding things like that. You don’t spend months with a person and not pick up their habits.
“How long ago was that?” She asked quietly, softly.
“‘Bout three years before I met you.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yeah.” Joel muttered. “Now, no more questions until tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Ellie grumbled, watching her feet as she walked.
“Joel!” His name tangled through the air, breathless and wanting. His ear was pressed to the door, hand on the door knob. Waiting. Thinking. Pondering.
Your legs were spread open, jeans halfway down your legs, panties to the side as your middle finger lazily rubbed circles in your clit, your free hand kneading against your exposed breast, chest flushed with the hot hand of want. No. Of need.
You couldn’t get the image out of your head. Slick curls pushed back, lips turned into a scowl, bulging arms chopping at the thick log of wood like it owed him something. You remember the rage swirling in his eyes, dark and angry, knitted brows tight and bold. Why was he so god damn hot when he was livid?
“Oh, God. Fuck.” Your whimpers filled his ears, well- his good ear, at least- and Joel felt his jeans beginning to tighten.
Something overtook Joel. Something primal, something instinctual, because before he had a chance to think, he was barging in to your room, mind empty with thoughts only of you, of your pleasure. You jumped with a squeal of surprise, face coated with embarrassment, grabbing a pillow to try and cover yourself up. It was a fruitless attempt, because Joel still saw exactly what he wanted to see. You.
“Joel! Oh God. Jesus Christ….. how-how much of that did you hear?” You wanted to cry. To deteriorate into a pile of rubble would have been your best option. Anything to not have to deal with his gaze. Stern, unreadable, dark. Your heart was slamming against your chest.
“I heard enough.” He whispered, slowly stepping towards you.
You blinked the forming tears of embarrassment away quickly, propping yourself up better on your elbows, finally garnering the courage to look up at him, right in his eyes. A long, deep, sensual gaze steaming from him.
Joel reached for you hesitantly, his hand gently grabbing your knee. A rough thumb traced circles into your skin, smooth and vanilla scented from the lotion he had smuggled for you on a particularly boring run. He watched the way your skin pricked with goosebumps, the way your leg leaned in to his touch. You wanted this. He knew, looking into your eyes, so soft and tender with desire, that he was the only thing on your mind.
“Please,” you whispered, voice shaking in the dimly lit room. “Please touch me, Joel.”
When he finally gathered the courage to lean forward, when those horrible thoughts of shame that so often plagued him had been pushed to the back of his mind, he heard Tess shouting his name in the distance.
When Joel saw Tommy for the first time in ages, he could barely contain himself. He embraced his little brother, tight and hard, feeling the familiar heat of tears welling in the pits of his eyes.
As dusk soon pulled across the sky, Tommy made sure to tell Joel which house would be his. “House 37! Two lefts and a right.” Tommy reminded him, as he jogged away to meet Maria.
It was only until he reached the movie theatre that Tommy realized he gave Joel the wrong number. Oh well, he thought to himself, Joel will figure it out.
The hot water cascaded down Joel’s back, steam dancing through the air, covering him in a warm blanket, the smell of vanilla body wash filling his nostrils. Vanilla. It reminded him so much of you. Of that night, the night he almost had a taste of you. You were so close, yet still managed to remain just out of reach.
Joel was so preoccupied with his thoughts of you, you, you, that he hadn’t heard the front door downstairs open.
• • •
It had been a particularly long and exhausting day for you. You had been posted a mile south in a rundown factory, keeping watch for Raiders as a group of workers focused their abilities on turning the old building into a new extension of your town.
Maria wanted to turn it in to a greenhouse and new horse stable. With the newest colt in town, Shimmer, she figured horse breeding could be a bright part of their future, and if it grew well and but enough, they could extend further out into the wilderness.
Well, that was Maria’s dream. But you had seen how slow these workers went about their business, how they often broke into fights and managed to forget their tasks entirely. How Maria had ever cultivated this place…. well, that was beyond you.
Your thoughts were full of Joel.
Joel, Joel, Joel.
He was a hard worker. Persistent and tenacious, strong and able, stern and forthright- he was everything you wanted in a man. He was just like the knights you would read about, yet he had a twinge of anti-hero that always enticed you, always pulled you in closer.
Thinking about Joel was always draining. You missed his laugh, gritty and low and never that frequent. You missed his hands, well worked and scarred. You missed his eyes, deep and mysterious and full of something that you could never quite pin point.
After these long day dreams with him at the forefront, it left you craving a life you had never gotten to live with him, a life you had never known.
By the time you reached your house it was dark, and your feet ached from the long trek. You felt much older than you actually were. Taking your boots off, you noticed the hallway light upstairs was on.
“Weird.” You whispered to yourself, ultimately shrugging it off as you switched it off, walking to your room.
The door was shut. Double weird. You lived alone, and almost always forgot to shut your door.
The bathroom door was ajar, and you saw steam swirling out of it, yet the shower was off.
“Okay, what the fuck.” You hissed, reaching for your knife. You had already turned your gun in. Hand to hand combat…. well, that would have to do, even if it wasn’t your strong suit.
Behind the closed door of your master suite, you hear someone opening up drawers. “God dammit, Tommy!” You heard a muffled snarl, and your eyes widened.
You dropped the knife, clattering against the carpet with a faint cling, as you brought your hands to your head. No. No. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be him. Surely not.
You rarely spoke to Tommy. You heard he had a brother named Joel here and there, but you never asked. Never gave any part of yourself away. To the people of Jackson City, you were quiet and reserved- kind, always- but haunted by something.
No, by someone.
Your hand was shaking. The metal door knob was cold on your palm, shivers coursing straight down your spine. With a quivering lip, you barely had time to turn the handle before the door flung open, thoughts of self defense and protection miles away.
A figure, huffing with annoyance, stood in front of you. A white shirt stretched taut against a broad chest, sweatpants hanging on a low waist, a bundle of dirty clothes resting in his arm. His arm. His familiar, tanned, muscular arm.
Joel.
Joel. Joel.
The syllable rolled around your brain, head empty as you gathered the courage to slowly look up at the man. His eyes were wide, lips parted in surprise as he stared at you. Both of you stood, in the midst of a proper western stand off, the air stagnant around your bodies.
Neither of you said a word. How could you? What was there to say? You blinked rapidly, rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to spook the apparition of Joel Miller away. Surely it was a ghost. Perhaps you were finally losing your mind. Perhaps the end of the world had caught up with you.
You went to speak, but a gargled mess of noises were all you could come up with.
Before you had a chance to correct yourself, he had scooped you up in to the tightest hug of your life.
Joel’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, pressing you close to his chest, while his right laid across your back, his large hand pressed into the back of your head. You grasped ahold of him, fingers digging into his skin as you tried to make sense of what was going on.
Before you could catch them, tears were flowing from your eyes, staining his shirt with a puddle of wimpy cries.
“Shh.” He cooed, voice shaking. “I’m right here. I’m here.” Joel held you as though you would vanish if he let go, slowly falling to the floor with you tightly pressed to him. He cradled you in his lap, strong arms secure and steadfast around your body. Joel wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.
When you finally looked up, you saw his own cheeks west with the ghosts of previous tears.
“Oh.” You whimpered, touching his face gingerly. “I haven’t seen this face in so long. Look at you.”
“Look at you.” He countered, thumb tracing down the apple of your cheek. “You’ve only grown more beautiful.”
“How… are you…. you’re the Joel Tommy mentioned? How could I have been so stupid.” You whispered, shaking your head.
“How long have you been here?”
“Two years. Managed to find a group of mercs, travelled with them to Kansas City before FEDRA got ahold of them. I was the only one to escape and, somehow, I found myself in this place.” You explained, his face now cupped in your hands.
His lips looked so tantalizing. The thing you wanted most in this world, right in this moment, was for Joel to kiss you. Hard. Deep. Passionately.
Joel looked down at you. He knew that look. Knew those emotions in your eyes, knew the way you looked when desire overtook your being.
He was so tired of being scared, so tired of the shame and guilt that followed him like smoke.
“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, taking a thick gulp.
You nodded slowly. “Kiss me.”
And he did. It was just as you had always imagined. Soft and sweet, deep and passionate. Your mouths molded together as though they were two puzzle pieces created for each other. It felt right. It felt good. It felt…. perfect. The way you had dreamed it would.
You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, arms thrown around his neck as you beckoned him closer, his palms pressed firmly into your sides as he held you in place. You both knew you weren’t going anywhere.
You parted your lips as his hungry tongue swept against you, gently exploring your mouth, tasting your spit, the minty residue of your now thrown away gun mixing with his mouth. Joel groaned as you shuffled, and you felt the bulge in his sweatpants where his cock was getting harder and bigger.
You had seen his dick before. Once. When you both stumbled to your room drunk and you had given him a blowjob. The best blowjob of his life, as Joel remembered. He had held you by the hair, barely touching you except a gentle brush of his hand down your cheek after he had finished down your throat. You remembered how his eyes had engulfed you, how you watched as he seared the image of you on your knees into the recesses of his memory.
That was the closest you two had ever got, the farthest he had ever dared to go. And even then, it was selfish of him. He went to bed under the heavy blanket of ignominy, and he swore he would never do it again. He was drunk, Joel assured himself, it wasn’t like he….. loved you or anything. Right?
But now, with his tongue searching your throat and his hungry hands feeling their way around his skin, with the way your clothed bodies moved in harmony against the scratchy carpet of the hallway floor, what else could it be? Lust? No. Lust doesn’t last like this. It sizzles away at the prospect of someone new. No, no. You both knew what it was. Love. But you both too fearful to admit it.
“Joel.” You whispered against his mouth. He opened his eyes at the sound of his name, the way it so sweetly rolled off your tongue.
“Yes?”
“Take me to bed.” Your words stuttered against themselves as you took in a heavy heave of breath. “Take me to bed… and make me yours.”
Joel swallowed the tight lump dangling at the back of his throat. He had two options. One, say no and push you away. Two, give in to his deepest desires and fall further into this love he had tried so hard to forget.
The last time he chose one, you ran half way across the country.
He was a smart man, Joel. He knew exactly which one to pick. No more would he run.
He scooped you up into his arms wordlessly, carrying you to your neatly made bed. Your hair splayed across the white pillows, your doe eyes staring up at him, full of yearning, full of want.
You watched with hawk-like eyes as he slid his shirt off, moving to do the same before Joel stopped you.
“No. I want to undress you myself.” You swallowed thickly at his command, nodding as your neck grew hot with desire.
When Joel was left with nothing but his boxers on, you drunk his image in. A small tuff of hair rested above the hem of his underwear. His belly was soft, and stray curls of hair dotted across his broad chest. His shoulders were strong, broad, welcoming.
You looked up into his face, eyelashes fluttering.
He had a few more wrinkles, a lot more gray in his hair. There were a few more scars etched into his skin, a darker tint to his eyes. He had aged. But so had you.
You had always liked your men older, anyways.
Joel Miller was the man of your fucking dreams, and he was standing nearly naked in front of you.
“Up.” He motioned for you to sit up and you did without hesitation. A smile crossed his mouth as he cupped your cheek. “So good for me.” Joel murmured, slowly peeling your shirt off.
“For you.” You whispered with finality.
He nodded, eyes twinkling with….. happiness. Joel worked the lace of the leather boots you wore, carefully pulling them off your feet before sliding his hands towards the zipper of your jeans. He watched your face as he slowly unbuttoned them, stripping them from your legs. He watched the way your lips parted with desire, the way your eyelids shut as the feeling of his hands grazing your skin.
“Look at you.” Joel whispered, and you met his steaming gaze. “So beautiful.” He learned forward, pressing a kiss to the hem of your underwear. “Lay back for me, honey.”
You did as you were told, shivering as his warm hands pried your legs apart. He stared at your clothed pussy, the patch of wetness showcasing your arousal. Joel chewed on his cheek as he drunk the image in, taking in a sharp breath as he discarded your underwear.
And there you finally were. Open and exposed, laid bare for him, and only him. Joel slid down on his stomach, inching his way towards your cunt as he reached forwards, using his thumb to slowly trace down your outer lips.
You shuddered, taking in a deep breath of as your hands snaked to his head, running your fingers through his thick curls, watching his finger slowly move. You saw him spread you open, you pink, wet pussy on display for his searing gaze.
“Ain’t that a sight.” He hummed out. “This all for me?” His voice was smug. He knew. And you knew he knew.
“All for you.” You admitted, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.
“Bet you taste real nice, too.” Joel leaned forward, extending his tongue as he swept it flat across your clit. This made you whimper out, your grip on his hair tightening. “Just as I thought. Sweetest thing I ever had.”
Your head fell back onto the pillows as he wrapped this lips around your swelling clit, sucking softly at the button. He was holding back, his movements teasingly gentle. You were squirming for him, nails digging into his scalp, your breath begging for me.
Joel pulled back, much to your dismay, and rubbed his middle finger against your entrance. He slowly pushed it in, grunting quietly.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, honey. Can’t wait to feel you stretched against my cock.”
“Oh, God. Joel, please.” You murmured, watching as he resumed his tongue against your clit, swirling and flicking. Your thighs were shaking on his shoulders, where you hadn’t even realized you had propped them up.
Joel chuckled against your pussy, savoring the sweetness of your arousal, letting it coat his tongue like sugar. He lapped at your clit, middle finger slowly hitting up against that spot, coaxing you closer towards an orgasm.
“If-if you don’t stop Joel, I-I’m gonna cum.”
“Babydoll, that’s what I want.” He responded smugly, sucking harder at your clit.
“B-but I want to cum on your cock. I-I’ll be too sensitive.” You explained, hips grinding as your fingers pulled at his curls even more.
“We’ll see about that.”
Joel added his ring finger into your pussy, pushing and pumping into you, wanton noises of filth filling your ears. You cried out his name, right on the brink of orgasm, as Joel continued his same movements, never daring to stray or pause.
“Joel. Joel! Oh, fuck. Joel. God dammit. Joel, I’m cumming!” You were sure the whole neighborhood could heard but you weren’t half fussed about that at the moment. All you knew was his mouth was drawing you in to the most earth shattering orgasm of your life.
Tears pricked your eyes as he rode out your climax, his mouth never leaving your clit. His fingers slowed down to a halt, yet his mouth never left your cunt.
You whimpered, trying to push him away from your sensitive pussy, but Joel didn’t let up. He grabbed your thighs, relishing in your moans as he made sure to lick up every drop of your cum, every inch of your wetness. He wanted the flavor of your pussy to be stuck in his mouth for the rest of his life.
You collapsed onto the bed as he slowly pulled away, leaving a hot kiss to each thigh.
“Was that nice?” Joel asked smugly, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Shut up, asshole.” You teased, a soft laugh escaping you. “Oh.” You murmured to yourself once you saw the bulge tenting at his boxers. You reached forward, gently grabbing it with your small hand. “Looks like we should do something about this.”
Joel hissed in a sharp breath of air, watching with intent as you tugged off his boxers. He kicked them off, his thick cock slapping against his stomach. He was thick, long, sexy- his cock could have been in a porn magazine, to be frank.
“Yeah, we should do somethin’ ‘bout this.” He had climbed on top of you, hands cupping your head as you glanced up at him with a tantalizing look stuck deep in your eyes.
“Yeah, we should. Fuck me, cowboy.” You whispered, resting your hands on his cheek. “Fuck me like you missed me.”
“I did miss you.” Joel admitted, almost shyly.
“I know.” You ran your hand through his hair, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance. You sucked in a soft breath of air as he slowly began filling you up, allowing you the time to grow accustomed to the way he felt inside you.
“‘Course you do.” He snorted through gritted teeth, filling you completely up to the hilt.
You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around him as you held him to your chest, smiling up at him softly. “Feels so good.”
Joel buried his face in your neck, slowly moving his hips. “You’re so fuckin’ tight. So fuckin’…. so fuckin’ good for me. A god damned dream.” His words were hot, guttural, melding in to your skin like paint on a canvas.
You shuddered, dragging your nails down the length of his back, resting them on his ass. His movements grew harder, wilder, every inch of his throbbing cock deep within your walls.
“Christ, Joel.”
He groaned against you, propping himself up on his palms to watch your face. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned forward, lips pressing to yours in a burning kiss, igniting your body aflame.
“Love how you say my name.” He whispered as he pulled away from your mouth.
“Joel.” You mumbled, a teasing grin cascading on to your face:
With a smile of his own, Joel’s hand traced across your neck, down your shoulders, fingers tickling the skin of your arm before he reached your hand. Joel held it in his own, lacing your fingers tightly within his, thumb brushing over your knuckles.
His thrusts were steadier now that your eyes were on each others, hand held tightly in his own as he took the feeling of you in. The way your pussy clenched around him, the way your body felt tight on his. He pulled away from you, sitting back a bit as he held your hips, fucking himself in to you.
“Touch your clit.” He ordered, eyes darkening. You swallowed, lowering your hand to your pussy, where you did as you were told. You shivered. “Rub it.” He whispered, voice soft.
You rubbed it, your middle finger circling your swollen clit tenderly.
“You’re going to cum one more time for me. Okay?”
You nodded obediently, gently placing your free hand on to his arm. “Okay.” Your voice was sweet, angelic. It made Joel’s cock twitch, an animalistic grunt soon following.
He looked on with hungry eyes as you played with your pussy, stretching it out for him. You both watched the way his cock filled you up, the way the lips of your pussy strained against him. You whimpered at the sight, wondering how something so big could even possibly fit inside you.
You resumed your masturbation, fingering at your clit as he pumped in to you.
“That’s a good girl, rubbing your clit for me. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He murmured, eyes glossed over with desire.
“Gonna cum for you again.” You warned, hips bucking.
“Yeah? Cum on my cock, honey. Paint it with your pretty cum.”
That’s all it took to send you over the edge. Your back arched off the mattress as your second orgasm washed over you, vision blurring white. Joel grabbed ahold of you and pulled you up, legs wrapping around his waist as he held you, pumping up into you as you shivered and shuttered against him. You chanted his name like a mantra, crying out against him.
You were eye level now, and Joel has you by the jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.
“I’m gonna cum inside you. Gonna fill this little pussy up.” He whispered, forehead resting against yours.
“Cum inside me.” You begged, hands moving to his shoulders as he fucked your body on to his cock.
Joel groaned, primal noises filtering out as his dick convulsed inside of you, his hot cum painting the inside of your cunt. You moaned at the feeling of being properly full, grinding against him gently as you sat on his lap, your arms holding each other close and tight.
When his orgasm had subsided and you both fell against the soft mattress, you were still entangled with one another, his dick still stuffed inside you.
You stared at one another as though you had never known anyone else, eyes searching, reaching for the soul, sparkling with love, swimming with adoration.
His fingers traced down your back, resting on your thigh as he brought you closer.
“I’m sorry I left.” You whispered, your hand resting on the side of his neck. “I… I didn’t know what to do with all of it.”
“All of what?” Joel asked, voice deep and quiet.
“All of the love I had for you.” You sniffled, nuzzling your cheek into his. “Have.” You corrected.
“Have?” A smirk was tugging at his voice.
You took in a deep breath, bravely nodding your head. “Have. I…. you know I do.”
Joel rested his head against yours, looking down at you. “I’ve always known.”
A moment of silence fell over your bodies.
“I don’t think it’s goin’ anywhere, either.”
“Good.” Joel whispered, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I want it. All of it. ‘Til the day I die.”
“It’s yours, Joel. Always yours.”
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noxtivagus · 1 year
Text
suteki da ne
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#🌙.rambles#yk that twt acc w final fantasy music. THE SONGS. REMIND ME. FINAL FANTASY MEANS SO MUCH TO ME FR#shaped so much of my identity n my personality n wtvr man. the lyrics of suteki da ne r so personal to me for some reason. idk#ff for the dreamers fr but it has rlly contributed in making me a hopeless romantic even more back then n#GUYS I HATE FEBRUARY N 14TH SO MUCH FOR MAKING ME THINK OF THESE STUFF AGAIN#hmm.. maybe i'm sad n maybe i'm hiding a lot more than it seems . (just a maybe for sure. hahahaha definitely not surely nah haha. hahaha.)#suteki da ne is so. special to me tho. like from start to end. N THEN THE CONTEXT W TIDUS N YUNA N I KNOW SPOILERS TOO SO. 😭😭#gna project that on my own ocs too !!!! i wna write of them more bcs i have so many ideas here n there#several ending ideas or wtvr bcs i love imagining it as a video game. n. hmm. star-crossed lovers but end up being destined together#themes like. freedom n birds n the moon themes n yk i'll make the color blue have a special meaning. dreams wishes psychology ideals#ideals reality mythology stuff like that r some keywords they've just. yk always meant a lot to me ever since i was young. ^^ n more.#SUTEKI DA NE HAS LOTS OF THEM UWAHH n while water has always been my fav from. those elements n being yk a water sign ig.#.. growing up i have a lot of memories of vacations on beaches w my family. the sand n the breeze n the waves by my feet#hehe. really grew up swimming a lot too. nearly drowned once but i've never been afraid of the water.#i'm rambling abt myself again but what do i have to be sorry for if this is my space anyways? but uh. i overshare on social media ik 🥹#but. rambling gives me comfort. i want to put out as much as i can into this world before i make my leave.#which DW WILL HOPEFULLY not be anytime soon. life's hard but i'll make it through the very end. & i'll do as much as i can fr.#when i. finally write those stories.. it's just. lovely to imagine how the ppl who personally know me wld understand n see myself in them.#expression of self through. many mediums such as different kinds of art is so special to me. i love to express myself n i equally love to#yk see others too. see them for who they really are and love them and understand them as much as i can.#probably bcs i want that myself too. n i crave n desire it myself too but it makes me happy n. yh so happy beyond words to#..just. live with others in that way? with ppl beside me or even just.. watching them.. though#hang on i'll ramble again but goddamn i write so much ig bcs i want to be understood so badly. i. really need that sincerity n communicatio#n authenticity w others for it to be. really real? life.. i can't put it into words rn but literally just in one word that holds so much.#life. yeah. hang on i still have assignments to do T_T n i ended up rambling sm but. i'll stop overthinking it.#nothing to be insecure abt w your own self unless it hmm. help no i won't ramble about that rn either but rn for me#just for me i know enough to say that i shouldn't have to be afraid. with the way i see the world i know there's so much more meaning n#maybe.. nah not maybe. fuck if hope's 'naive' as aymeric says as well. personally no matter what i'll stick to myself. hold true to that.#n my determination with this will never be half-assed n. help i'll stop now fr but i feel better now c:#BACK TO SUTEKI DA NE THOUGH. FROM END TO START FR 🥹 HELP NO START TO END I MEAN. 🥺🫶🏼
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marvellous1917 · 1 year
Text
Icarus
(Part 1)
Pairing: mob!Bucky x tattoo artist!reader
Summary: you come home from work, only to find a mob boss in your house looking for your roommate.
Warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of arms and drug trafficking, murder, kidnapping, torture, swearing, tattoos, gambling, think that’s it
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A/n: I’m a simple girl. Mob!Bucky makes my brain go whurrrrrr. This is pure self service because I have this tattoo lol. Been along time guys what’s up?
————
“Late night?” The deep voice came from the dark.
“Holy-” fear spiked through your heart from the unfamiliar sound, your arms dropping the bags and your back crashing into the closed front door, “-who.. who are you?” You asked the unfamiliar voice. Turning slightly you see the long haired, leather covered man sat in the dining room. His left arm rested on the table, the prosthetic shining, the light from the street lamp outside shining through the window. His face was half shrouded in darkness, the other half showed his eyes, a little confused but also amused.
“You’re not Caleb.” He replied, sitting back in the chair, tilting his head to the side and moving something that looked suspiciously pistol shaped off of the table and into the inside pocket of his jacket, you reached up and flipped on the light.
“N-no no, I’m not. I’m his roommate.” You said, finally registering who you were talking to. The now fully visible metal arm was a pretty big giveaway, if nothing else. ‘There is a mob boss sat in my kitchen, what the fuck’.
“What do you want with Caleb? Does he owe you something?” The thought was out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Oh god no sorry forget I asked. Sorry... sir? I don’t-”
“I’m assuming from that reaction you know who I am,” He said, smirk on his face as he stood and moved closer, your back pressing flatter against the wall beside the door with every step he took.
“Of..of course I do, everyone in New York knows who you are..Sir” You replied.
“Hmm, I’m gonna take that as a compliment doll,”
“It is! Sorry! Congrats on all the… mafia shit.” Did I just say ‘mafia shit’ to a gangster.
The silence is awkward, his face blank and all you can think is ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die.’ His face twists into a …smile.. you think, y’know its hard to tell, fear has your vision all fuzzy.
He then starts to..laugh. He’s laughing? He’s actually laughing.
“Is this something you do before you kill people? You laugh, give them a false sense of security then shoot them?” You ramble quietly, confused at what’s happening.
He moved his left hand to rest on his stomach, the metal catching the light, shining right in you eye and it fully registered that, holy shit, James fucking Barnes, The Winter goddamn Soldier is in my house. This man is literally wanted by every law enforcement agent in the country, he’s in control of one of the most ruthless organisations in the world, they traffic arms and drugs and gun down anyone that gets in the way. Apparently, at least that’s what the news said. The stories about him though, way more upsetting.
The rumor was that after he left the special forces, he was captured by an organisation that wanted him to work for them. When he tried to escape the first time, they took his arm, and he was stuck working for them for a decade. The story goes that after he finally escaped, he tracked down everyone that was a part of it and killed them all, by himself. Alone. Just him. On his own. Then he took over their supply and demand and built his empire from the ground up.
“Oh god.. ‘congrats on all the mafia shit’, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while…” he pushed out while chuckling. “I’m gonna get that shit tattooed, I swear,” he said.
“I could do that for you,” it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. ‘Oh my god, shut up Y/N’ you thought to yourself.
“What?” He asked, eyes flitting over to yours, his piercing stare causing all sorts of feeling to rise inside your chest; fear, confusion, attraction. Attraction? What? Damn him and his pretty face. He’s a killer Y/N, remember that?
“Nothing, sorry” you answered, looking down at your feet.
“No what did you say Y/n?” He asked again, his voice more stern than before. If you weren’t so scared, you would have questioned how he knew your name.
“I said that I could give you that tattoo, sorry, just slipped out” you replied, unsure what his response would be to your completely unnecessary comment.
“Stop apologising would’ya doll, there’s no need.” He said, sort of sweetly, a small comforting smile on his face, the pet name causing all sorts of lovely feelings inside.
“Sor.. yes Sir,” you corrected yourself.
“And stop calling me Sir darlin, only my employees call me that,” he said, “well my employees and some others..” he said with a dirty smirk, causing your eyebrows to raise sky high.
“Sorry Sir,” you said quickly, not even thinking. “…shit.”
“Seriously doll, you don’t need to be so scared of me,” he stated, his right hand reaching out and landing on your shoulder, your muscles tensing for a second then relaxing when you saw the look in his eye, he was telling the truth
“Ok.. then can I ask why you are here?” You ask, some fear creeping it’s way into your voice despite his reassurance. He kept his face carefully still and he looked you up and down, the feeling of being examined was strong, like he was trying to decide if you were worthy of knowing his business.
“You got it right earlier, your roommate owes me something, and I came to get it from him,” he removes his hand from your arm as he spoke after a tense silence. He was being purposely vague, trying to gage your reaction, to see if you were really clueless or you were playing with him.
“It’s money right, I mean it has to be, what else could he owe you. I told him to stop freaking borrowing money I swear I tried to stop him, but he never listened to me..l”
“You’re rambling darlin, you realise that?” He cuts you off with a smirk on his face.
“I’ve been told I do that when I’m nervous. I don’t know how much Caleb owes you and I don’t know what the situation is but.. if you.. I mean..”
“What doll? What are you trying to say. I won’t be mad, I swear,” Barnes responds, one side of his lips tugging upwards at your mumbling.
“Could you give him some more time?”
He was not expecting that. ‘Brave little thing’ he thought.
“I mean I don’t know how long he’s owed you for but he’s getting back on track I swear, he’s getting better, he is, in-fact he’s at a gamblers anonymous meeting right now, and he has a job interview tomorrow so he can pay rent and pay back people he owes money to.” You rush out, trying to help your friend, “Of course he never told me that he owes money to a mobster but that besides the point” you add quieter, more to yourself than anything but Barnes still heard it. He chuckled and ran his flesh hand through his hair, pushing back the long strands out of his face.
“He does owe money to a mobster, quite a lot in fact so I’m gonna have to say no to that request darlin, I’ve given him long enough.” He responds, his tone dripping with authority, the Brooklyn drawl on the pet name he threw out made your heart beat faster.
“Please. Please just think about it Sir.. uh Mr Barnes.. Sir. Caleb’s had a rough go of it lately, he lost his father not too long ago and he’s been a mess ever since, if you could just give..”
“I already said no once doll, I don’t like repeating myself.” His tone was final, and even though his words were not that intense, the threat in his voice hung in the air like poison gas before slamming into your chest, the fear that had previously been quelled came racing back, sitting on your shoulders like a lead coat.
The silence stayed for longer this time, you eyes firmly fixed to the floor to a sound even the possibility of upsetting the man that had broken into your home.
“So you’re a tattoo artist huh? He asked, his low voice calming you some. Huh he’s trying to make me less afraid of him, what kind of ruthless criminal is he?
“Yes..um I am,” you answer, incredibly aware of the position you were in, better to go along with whatever he did.
“You got a flash book?” He questioned, genuinely interested.
“Uh yeah I do.” You reply awkwardly, not sure where this new line of conversation was coming from.
“Can I see it?”
“…sure,” the word came out as a question.
He nodded at you, and you took it as a sign that you were good to move. Turning slowly and moving away from the wall to your bag on the floor, you reach down and grab your flash sketchbook and hand it to him.
“Are all of these available?” He asked, flipping through the pages, taking in each design.
Seeing him like this, calmly looking through the sketchbook makes it very easy to forget who he was, a ruthless calculating Mob Boss, wanted for almost every crime under the sun.
“The ones with the X’s over them have been done before but could be repeated if someone really wanted it,” you answered, slightly more confident in yourself as you were talking about something you loved.
“This is Latin, right, what does it mean?” He asked, moving to stand next to you pointing to a design in the book, an alien inside a bottle of wine.
“‘In Vino Veritas’, it means ‘In wine, there is truth’” you say, “ I though it was funny, y’know.. ‘the truth is out there’..aliens..” you trailed off, not sure how to explain that design
He let out an quiet amused sound, his shoulder brushing yours, sending a trail of chills down your spine.
“This one is beautiful,” he said, pointing to a different design on the next page.
“Thank you, it’s Icarus, I have it tattooed on me, it was hard as hell doing it on my own leg,” you say, proud of the design you created.
“Icarus, what’s his story? I can’t quite remember, ” he asks.
“It’s a Greek myth y’know, Icarus and his father were held captive by King Minos in a tower, his father created wax wings so they could fly away from their captors. The father warned Icarus from flying too high or too low, but he ignored his fathers warnings and flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. It’s a moral story to warn against the dangers of complacency and hubris, but to me it’s just a tragedy.” You say, turning to face him, making eye contact with the man. He listened intently to the story, his face unreadable but you thought you saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe he related to the myth, a man that was once held captive, now with everything in his hands, in danger of losing it all if he flew too close to the sun himself.
“A tragedy huh? I don’t think there’s anything tragic about it. He was warned not to do something dangerous and he went and did it anyway, it’s his own damn fault,” he stated, something slightly argumentative in his tone.
He looked straight at you while speaking and you couldn’t help but feel as if he was looking into your soul, like his statement was some kind of test.
“I agree with the idea that he got what he deserved, but I meant it as a tragedy for his father. Creating something so pure for you and your child to escape from captivity, only for your child to ignore your warnings and pay the ultimate price for it. His father probably spent the rest of his life regretting escaping his prison because that was the action that ultimately lead to his sons death. It’s heartbreaking if you see it from a different perspective,” you say back, not really expecting him to engage you in a philosophical debate.
“Hmm.. that’s an interesting way to see it, I’m not really one for looking at different perspectives, mine suits me just fine,” he answered, the fact that this man was dangerous came screaming back to you with the look on his face, blank like he was devout of all emotion at that moment. You got the feeling he wasn’t speaking metaphorically anymore.
The tension was palpable, you not knowing what to say next and him deciding he was done talking for the time being. He placed the book down on a side table, and turned back to you. “Y’know what, I want it.” He said, confusing flooding your brain.
“Want what?” You ask calmly, not wanting to push your luck with the man.
“That tattoo, the Icarus one, I want it.” He answers, leaning back against the side of the table he was sat at earlier. His crossed his arms, which should have been intimidating, but for some reason the only thought floating through your head was Damn his arms are bigger than my head. Gimmie.
“You want the Icarus?” You ask, somewhat stupidly and he had just said that.
“Yes I do,” he answered simply, “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, smile on his face.
“Umm not really, I have a few appointments tomo..”
“Move them, hell cancel them. Block out a spot long enough for me to get this tattoo.” He states, cutting of your sentence.
“I can’t do that, it’s too short notice and I could loose..”
“I’ll pay what ever you lose for cancelling the appointments. I’m getting this done, tomorrow.” He cuts you off again, a finality in his tone that warns you it would be pointless and probably rather stupid to argue.
“Uh..ok” you respond, shaking your head a little, still trying to figure out what just happened.
“Great.” He clapped his hands together and the sound made you jump. Barnes either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care. “Give me your phone.”
“Huh? Why do you want my phone?” You question.
Barnes just rolled his eyes, walked forward until he was stood right infront of you, toe to toe, staring down at you with a semi amused look on his face.
“How am I supposed to find out where your shop is if you don’t text me the location?” He said sarcastically.
Literally a million different ways, google it for starters, get one of your goons to find it, stalk me and follow me there.. c’mon man think. Obviously you kept these thoughts to yourself but Barnes smirked as if he could hear them anyway. Pulling out your phone and handing it to him you ask, “What time do you want to come in for?”
“Around 1-ish doll, that ok?” He asked, knowing that it is, as he’s already told you to move/cancel your other appointments.
“That’s fine by me Bar..Mr Barnes” you answer, slipping up, almost forgetting the level of respect you should probably show to the gangster in your home.
He calls his phone from yours, adding the new number to contacts in both phones, “there, now you can let me know the address of your shop.”
“I’ll sent it to you tomorrow.. unless you want me to send it now?” You asked he hands your phone back , uncertain of what he wanted
“Tomorrows fine” he answers, walking backwards towards the front door, “I’ll see ya in the afternoon doll,” he says while opening the door and mostly leaving until he pauses completely, slowly turning back towards you.
This is it, he’s been messing with me this whole time and now he’s going to shoot me.
“Tell Caleb he has 6 weeks to get my money back to me or I’ll be paying him another visit, ok doll.” He says, no question in his voice. He waits until you answer with a “Yes, Mr Barnes,” and disappears into the hallway outside your apartment.
It takes about 5 minutes for the shock to fully wear off, and it causes you to stagger over to the couch, fall backwards onto it an ask into the empty room, “What the actual fuck just happened?”
As soon as the question was out of your mouth , your phone buzzed in your hand.
James:
Don’t ever call me Mr Barnes again Y/n.
It makes me feel ancient.
I hate that.
6K notes · View notes
silvergyus · 8 months
Text
9:26pm
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pairing: husband!soobin x wife!reader
summary: all the teachers at your kids' school have a crush on soobin- but you're the lucky wife that he comes home to
warnings: soobin & y/n are parents, breeding kink + creampie, oral (sb receiving), fingering (y/n receiving), use of “baby” for soobin, use of "baby/ my love/ my pretty wife" for y/n
word count: 2,500+
author's note: kinda mushy smut with feelings. directly inspired by how good he looked for the Jakarta soundcheck. this work is 18+
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙**
Soobin picks up the kids from school still dressed from work, his blue- collared polo shirt hugging his narrow frame. He’s all packed into his slim, crisp jeans. All of the teachers standing outside with their classes harbor not-so-secret crushes on him as they wait for parents to take their students home for the day.
These obvious little crushes give you a mischievous pride when walking arm-in-arm with him for parent-teacher conferences, have you preening when you sit beside him to watch your kids’ in the school play. That’s your husband that all the young teachers want, but you’re the one that gets to go home with him.
And go home with him you do.
You say goodnight to both your kids, tucking them safely in bed after brushing their teeth and reading them bedtime stories. You help with one kid, Soobin helps with the other. You make a great team and your kids absolutely adore him. He’s wrapped around their little fingers and he’ll do whatever they ask. Their chubby cheeks and deep dimples are nearly impossible to say no to.
You have to step in when you see Soobin hesitate- your daughter’s big boba eyes begging to stay up just a little bit longer. “Not tonight sleepyhead, you have school again in the morning.” You reply, kissing her forehead before shooting your husband a stern look to not play along with the kids this time.
“Yeah,” he quickly gets the message, “you have to sleep so you can be ready to learn all those big new words for the spelling test.” He leans in to your child’s ear but you can still hear him whisper “but I think you’re gonna ace it anyway.”
With big smiles and lots of kisses, you finally close the door to the kids’ room for the night. They’re little, so it’s still pretty early.
You let out a contented sigh. Finally, your busy day of work and motherhood has given you time to relax, just you and your perfect husband. Soobin had left for work earlier than usual this morning, so you haven’t had him to yourself once yet today, until now.
---- He’s sat on the couch, still in his work clothes but finally relaxing for the night. He’s re-watching an anime on the tv, the volume low so as to not wake up the kids. You finish up your task in the kitchen before coming to join him by the tv.
He glances up at you as you walk in the room, smiling in greeting. You sit on the armchair so you can watch both the tv and him, your eyes darting between the two. You take him in, the long, long lines of his body as he splays out, legs spread enough for you to see the shape of his bulge between them. He isn’t hard, but he’s still big.
You haven’t had alone time with Soobin in a while. Back to school is always such a stressful time as parents and right now all you want is him.
You slip off the chair and begin slowly crawling towards your husband. Soobin looks at you, confusion on his face. The distance isn’t far and you're soon kneeling in front of him. His attention is solely on you, the TV a long-forgotten background noise.
He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb gently across your face. “What are you thinking about my love?”
You lean into his touch, the soft caress a familiar comfort. “Missed you.”
He laughs a little at that. “But I haven’t been anywhere.”
“I can still miss you.” You turn into his touch, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. “Plus, I really have missed you,” you say, reaching to palm his bulge over his jeans.
He hisses softly at your touch. “I see. I've missed you too baby.”
You hum, feeling content as he moves his hand to play with your hair. You continue playing with him through his jeans, feeling him start to grow hard, tracing the shape of his cock underneath. You press one long, closed mouth kiss to the imprint and you can feel Soobin’s breath hitch.
“Can you stay quiet for me?” You ask, your eyes big and reflecting in the low light. He nods and you unbutton his pants. He lifts his hips a little, easing the process as you tug them low. You want to kiss him so bad but don’t want to move from this position just yet. You have him where you want him so you’ll just have to wait.
After freeing his cock you can’t help but tease him, pressing sweet kisses to his hips, thighs and lower tummy. He does his best to stay quiet, clamping down whines as you continue to avoid touching him where he needs you the most.
When you finally do turn your attention to his cock, it’s half-hard with a pretty bead of precum glinting at the tip. You dart your tongue out to lick it off, earning a quiet moan from your pretty husband. “Shh, shh, stay quiet for me baby,” you remind him.
You hold his cock in your hands, feeling the warmth in your palms as you press another closed-mouth kiss to his shaft and another on the tip before you open your mouth. You look up at him to tease him again, placing the head on your tongue and staring up at him, unmoving.
“Please baby,” he whispers, stroking your hair, “make me feel good.”
You can’t resist when he asks so pretty so you take him into your mouth, licking and sucking at the tip. His hands come up to muffle his moans. He’s never been quiet, especially not when you’re on your knees for him, but he knows if he’s loud you’ll stop, or worse, he’ll wake the kids.
You continue your ministrations, bringing a hand up to pump near the base while your other strokes his thigh. His hand in your hair grips hard, pulling you back for a second before you take him deep in your throat.
Beneath your hand you can feel his muscles clench as he physically holds back his moans. You look up at him as you drag your tongue up his shaft. His head is thrown back, relishing in the feeling of your mouth. You love the way he acts when you suck him off- head empty as he takes it in, pretty noises falling more freely from his lips. It makes you crave him in your mouth, makes you want to have him like this all the time.
You move your hand from where it rests on his thigh, slipping it down to firmly grip his balls, applying an even squeeze while you suckle on the head of his cock.
Soobin’s breath hitches in a strangled gasp. You squeeze him again, taking him further in your mouth as you do. He stifles a moan but it’s still loud. You stop for a second, pulling off of him completely. The two of you pause, listening for any little feet on the carpet upstairs. When the coast is clear- no noise means kids are still in bed, you pull yourself up off the floor.
“I think that’s enough of that, since someone can’t stay quiet,” you tease as you climb into his lap. His hands come to settle on your ass, holding you in place.
“Mmm, but how can I stay quiet when you make me feel so good?” He kisses you finally and it feels like the world has settled. The busy day behind you forgotten as he fills your senses. His lips trail down your throat and you let out a soft sigh as he sucks gently on the skin. You can feel him smile before he hums and asks you if you can stay quiet for him now.
He looks at you as you nod.
The two of you have been together for years, married with two beautiful kids, but no matter how many times you’ve taken his cock, Soobin still needs to prep you. He’s big. You could see him through his jeans, feel his heavy weight in your hands. As much as you want him inside you, you know you need to wait.
You had changed out of your work clothes into your “comfy clothes” as soon as you got home. Clad now in a tank top and shorts, Soobin had much easier access to your body as you did to his. He tugged down the elastic waist of the shorts, giving him room to pull them to the side, away from your already wet pussy. Your breath hitched as his fingers made contact with your folds. Everything about your husband was big, his fingers long as he teased you, tracing lines through your wetness and circling your clit.
“Keep your eyes on me baby, okay?”
He pulled two fingers through your folds before roughly pressing his thumb to your clit. You fell forward, head resting on his shoulder as you bit back a gasp.
He chuckled as you reset yourself. “I said to keep your eyes on me.”
You shook your head at his teasing before leaning in for a kiss. He swallowed your quiet moan when he finally pressed two of his long fingers into you. He pumped them in, letting you adjust to the intrusion before you wiggled your ass and pushed your hips back, asking for more.
It was your turn to stifle your moans as he picked up speed, curling his fingers to press where you wanted most. His fingers were long and you could feel him so deep inside, but still you knew that this wasn't enough, not when his cock was hot on your thigh, beads of precum dripping on your skin. “Soobin, please,” you struggled to keep your voice low, “please give it to me.”
His movements slowed, fingers moving out of you. He held his hand up towards the lamp, watching the way your wetness caught the light. “So wet for me.”
You moaned as you watched him stroke his cock with your wetness. You leaned forward to kiss him again. “Always for you.”
You held your shorts and panties to the side as he lined himself up with your entrance, fat tip pressing against your folds.
You looked into his eyes, warm with love and admiration. You’re sure yours looked the same. After years with Soobin, he was still the only one you wanted, and you still wanted him as badly now as you did on day one. You slowly sunk down on his cock, feeling the stretch even after his fingers, and the two of you moaned together. Voices holding back to keep quiet, but hearts finding the meaning nonetheless.
Once you were impaled on his cock you paused, adjusting to his size. You were full, so full and so completely blissed out.
“Feels good baby?”
“So good.”
Soobin hummed, satisfied. He tugged down the side of your tank top to expose your breast, the cool air causing your nipple to perk up. His thumb grazed the bud as his other hand, still resting on your hip and ass, guided you to move your hips. You began to slowly rock on him, your hands finding his shoulders for balance as he ducked his head to capture your nipple in his mouth.
His tongue was hot as he licked and sucked, leaving a hickey to bloom against the swell of your breast.
He pulled back, saliva dripping from his swollen lips, looking fucked out even as you had just started riding his cock. You moved quicker, bouncing on his lap, feeling him so big and so deep inside of you. This was what you wanted, what you needed even though you hadn’t realized it.
You squeezed around him and Soobin moaned. "Baby, look so good for me, taking my cock so well," he grabbed your breast roughly, "showing off for me." He placed another kiss to your chest.
"Wanted you so bad Soobin," you whisper, your breathing uneven as you ride him.
"Lemme help you baby." He moved his hands under your ass, holding you up. You whined from the lack of movement.
"Shhh, gotta stay quiet." He said smugly before sharply thrusting up into you. Your moan was strangled; you tried your best to keep it quiet but the feeling of him so deep inside was euphoric.
He took over, thrusting up into you from below. You could feel the rough brush of his denim against your thighs where you had pulled it down before. You were sure the skin would be sensitive there after this but right now all you wanted was Soobin's thick cock to fill you up. You wanted to be full of him and his cum, have him surround you inside and out.
His pace was quick and brought you both to the edge of orgasm quickly. Neither of you realized how badly you needed this, how the busy last few weeks had made you crave one another like teenagers.
Soobin's hips pounded into you steadily, his hand groping and squeezing your chest.
“Need you, need you,” you repeated like a mantra as you neared your high.
“You have me,” Soobin whispered, “I’m all yours.”
His thumb found your clit and the circles he rubbed brought you over the edge. Your mouth found his shoulder as you felt your release wash over you, hoping it was enough to muffle your cries. Your body shook from the feeling of him all around you.
“Hmmf, baby,” he struggled as your walls pulsed around him, still fucking into you through your orgasm, “gonna put another baby in you.”
You looked at him again, still dazed and riding out your high. “Please- want it so bad.”
His hips thrust erratically up into you as he reached his high, trying to quiet his moans with his hand. You pulled it away to kiss him.
You pulled away, grabbing his shiny black hair, damp now with sweat, pulling him to look you in the eyes. “Soobin, need you to cum in me.”
His breath was hot against your ear as he snapped his hips against you, “My pretty wife, gonna take all my cum.”
His release came with a sharp thrust as he shot ropes of cum inside you. His hands wrapped around you in a hug, holding you as close as possible as he came inside. Fighting overstimulation, you rocked your hips, helping him through the end of his orgasm. Again and again you felt his hot cum shoot inside you.
For a moment, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, wrapped around one another in a loving embrace. You didn’t want to move; if you could stay like this forever you would.
You felt his cum drip down, out of you, and you knew it was time to clean up. You stroked his head, “hey baby?”
“Mmm, just a little longer. Love you so much.” He was always sappy after he came.
“I love you too,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “but we don’t want to ruin the couch.” You settled back on your hips, loosening the hug, though his hands still held you, “let’s go to bed my love.”
----
After cleaning yourselves up under the warmth of a shared shower, kisses pressed to lips and soapy hugs shared between you, you fell asleep in the arms of your perfect husband.
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author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.
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My take on stalker!Tim:
Robin!Jason gets distracted during a patrol and doesn’t meet up with Batman, who panics is mildly concerned. Jason doesn’t want to reveal the real reason he got distracted (could be something he was working on for Bruce or just him being a cute baby nerd) so he makes something up the spot. A kid! He saw a kid. It was definitely child shaped. And. Uh. Photography! That’s right, he saw a kid taking photos and made sure he got home safe.
Batman: Photography?
Robin!Jason: Yeah, uh, nighttime photography.
Batman: At midnight?
Robin: I mean, it’s not a school night.
Batman: What were they taking pictures of?
Robin, panicking and going to the first thing he can think of ch just so happens to be last Sunday when Dick called Bruce an emotionally repressed furry: Uh, wildlife?
Bruce is skeptical but honestly he’s seen weirder things even tonight so as long as the kid got home safe…
Jason proceeds to use this same excuse a few more times.
Batman: Don’t tell me, it was the kid again.
Robin!Jason: You just missed him.
Batman, who isn’t feeling strong parental feelings at all: Hrn.
Okay so then fast forward a few years. Jason is on his little murder training gap year and Tim has shown up to the manor trying to fix the disaster that is currently Bruce Batman Wayne. Dick, trying to bond with the kid now that it’s apparent he’s not going anywhere, asks what Tim’s interests are.
Tim: Well, I like photography, and…
Dick, putting two and two together and getting forty-seven: Ohmygosh you’re the kid.
Tim: The what now?
Dick: The kid with the wildlife photography.
Tim, thinking about that one competition he entered a year ago: Uh, I guess?
Dick thinks that’s how Tim figured out all their identities. He thinks he has it all figured out. He does not. Bruce now thinks he has it figured out too. He does not. Tim is unaware there was something to be figured out. Jason is off learning the finer points of poisoning or something idk.
So skip forward some more and Jason is back, minus some murder attempts or whatever because this is crack, and Dick is now trying to get his two brothers comfortable with each other. It is not working. Finally, Dick remembers they’ve definitely met before.
Dick: So, do you remember meeting Tim before?
Jason, whose memory resembles Swiss cheese but is fairly certain he never met Tim before now: Uh…
Dick: He’s the kid! The one with the wildlife photography!
Jason, suddenly remembering the excuse he used several times as Robin: The what now?
Tim, knowing full well that Jason was very dead at the time he submitted anything in a wildlife category: The what now?
Jason pulls Tim into a hall closet to interrogate him about this.
Tim: There’s like five rooms right here that no one has stepped in in a month. Why are we in a closet?
Jason: What, exactly, did Dick mean by you were the one with the wildlife photography, because I’m pretty sure that was just an excuse I made up but now I don’t know.
They figure it out. They also agree to just let that belief be. Jason doesn’t want to admit he made that all up. Tim doesn’t want to admit he thought Dick had gone to his art competition thing before they even officially met. Tim also doesn’t want to explain how he actually figured out their identities because this sounds way cooler. So they decide to just roll with it.
Damian shows up and tries to hunt down Tim’s early photos of Batman. Tim and Jason get really into making it look like he just keeps missing it. Barbara knew about all of this the entire time but no one asked her so she didn’t bother to fill them in.
Everyone else that joins the family after that point and hears the story of Jason and Tim supposedly meeting while Jason was Robin has the exact same response: “Oh, ‘cause Batman’s a furry. Right.”
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monstersflashlight · 12 days
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It’s finally here, I know I’ve been teasing with this story for weeks but life has been hectic and I wanted to do some requests, but here it is, the forest entity story. Hope y’all enjoy it!
The tree-hole debacle
Forest entity x fem!human || very light dub-con, tentacles (more like vines), bondage, squirting
Oh no. Oh, no, no, no... You kept chanting in your brain. You were trying to reach the fucking shiny thing you saw in the tree's hole and you got stuck. In the middle of the forest. All your torso inside a tree-hole and your legs kicking the air. You couldn't get out. You were stuck. You felt like you were living your own bad porno. Fuck.
You always knew your eagerness to pick stuff in the woods would bring you problems, but you never thought it would be in the shape of a tree. A fucking tree. You were just walking around the forest trying to find some good pieces to build some more fairy jewelry, who knew you could get stuck in a tree. And now you didn’t know what to do, how to get out. A spark of anxiety was creeping up your back. What if you died there? What if they found you dead in a tree-hole? They would think you are a weirdo. Well, in that they wouldn’t be wrong, but that would be so embarrassing. News would say something along the lines of “young girl found in a tree”, and that would be awful in so many levels. God damn it.
You tried crying for help, but you knew there wasn’t anyone coming, you never followed the path, confident you’d find your way back. And you always did, you have some kind of sixth sense about these woods, they called to you. And well, now you called whoever was listening to get you out of that damn tree-hole.
When you felt something creeping behind you, you started kicking your legs, trying to scare whatever animal was close. You didn’t want to be attacked by a random wolf or something. You didn’t even know what kind of animals could roam the forest, you were so careless in the way you explored the woods without thinking about it. You felt like a dummy now, a completely dumb woman who was now stuck in a fucking tree.
Something behind you let out a growl, you started to panic, moving your legs faster, making sounds to scare it away. A light caress to the back of your leg made you twitch, your whole body reacting with full on panic. But before you could scream, you were hanging out upside down, roots embracing your body. You were suspended in the middle of the woods, a weird creature made of leaves and some kind of mud in front of you. He slowly shook your body up and down, making you bounce in an uncomfortable way.
Your confusion, added to being upside down, made your head feel all kinds of dizzy. The roots around you seemed to come from everywhere, like he could control all the things around you. What was he? He answered you without having to verbalize your question: “I’m the spirit of these woods, and you, human, were asking for help. I came.” His voice sounded deep, like if he was talking from inside a cave, an echo of a real voice. Your body shivered.
“I- You- What?” Your confusion at everything happening was making your head spin. He turned you around, hanging you in an upright position this time, your feet still far away from the ground.
“You were screaming, the little creatures came to find me. And here I am,” he explained. His matter of fact statement made you think he was crazy. Maybe you were crazy. Maybe you did die inside that damn tree-hole and all of this was just an hallucination.
“Thanks?” You didn’t know if that was the correct answer, the vines and roots around your body wouldn’t stop twitching, touching, careful not to touch any of your most vulnerable parts. But hey were exploring everything else, caressing your hair, your cheeks, your legs… “Can you put me down?” You asked.
“No.” That instant denial should have scared you, but weirdly enough, you didn’t feel fear or panic anymore. Your body was calm, your mind completely quiet and relaxed. What kind of weird mojo was he doing to you? “You asked for the help of a forest spirit, you need to repay your debt now.” You looked at him expectantly, trying to convey you needed more explanation. He didn’t say anything.
“What the fuck does that mean?” You finally asked, a spark of anger rising inside your chest.
He nodded as if your question was answered like that and said: “I will take you now.” The vines around you started to pull at your clothes. You struggled against the hold, but they were so strong and tight that you could barely move some millimeters.
You struggled harder, screaming at him: “What? No!” You looked at him with all the fire inside of you. If looks could kill, he’d be killed right there, right now. But it wasn’t the case. He just looked amused at your struggles. But he stopped the vines from moving, some of them hovering over your tits and mouth, so close you could smell the petrichor smell they emanated. It was intoxicating.
“You have to pay, human. The balance must be restored.” That made no sense to you, he talked about restoring balance as if you had a debt with the forest or something. What?
“But I didn’t ask for your help.” He looked back at you skeptical, his dark eyes so expressive even though he didn’t have eyelids or brows. His face was so weird, but enthralling at the same time. “Okay, I did need help, but I don’t- I don’t want to have sex with you,” you lied through your teeth.
The truth was that you were aroused, the vines around your body were making you all kinds of horny. You always dreamed of being tied down, of being at the mercy of your partner as they took their fill off you. And without knowing it, he was restraining you, making all your fantasies come to the surface and making your pussy tingle. But you weren’t going to say that to him.
“What is sex, human?” The question caught you off guard, how could he not know what sex was?
“You… You said you’d take me.”
He was looking at you intently, like the answer to your unasked question was obvious and you were just dumb. Maybe you were. “I’ll give you pleasure so your juices can fertilize my forest,” he explained. You could what?
“You what? Fertilize? What?” And then it clicked. “You want to make me cum?” It seemed so random you couldn’t fully process what that meant.
“I believe that’s how humans call it, yes.”
You argued with the angel in your head, but the demon rapidly won the argument and before you could process it fully you were saying: “I- I- Okay.” Your voice was barely a whisper but he nodded and the vines around you closed more firmly against your body, making you shiver. It was weirdly comforting to be held so tightly.
You clothes were pushed away, thrown carelessly to the ground and you found yourself wrapped in vines and roots, suspended in the air. He opened your legs fully, exposing your holes to his eyes. He approached you then, his weird face close to your pussy, but not touching. The leaves around his head tickled the inside of your legs as he inspected you, his breath cold against your heated skin. You whimpered, being exposed to him so openly was embarrassing beyond belief, but the juices dripping off your cunt were even worse.
He reached around him and took some kind of leave, different to the ones covering his head. He squeezed it until a clear substance formed. He coated one of the vines with, the vine shifted into a wider form, cupping your whole pussy, coating it with the substance. At first, you felt nothing, but suddenly scolding heat ran through your body and you came. Just like that. You came faster than ever, he didn’t do anything, he didn’t touch your clit, your entrance… He just put some magical liquid over your cunt and made you cum. What the fuck?
You didn’t get to catch your breath before another vine was proving your entrance, making you moan loudly as it pushed inside. Two more vines appeared, framing your boobs and squeezing, some leaves playing with your nipples at the same time. The pleasure was maddening. The combined sensation of the vine entering you and the leaves was so overwhelming that you came again. This time your scream was cut short when another vine pushed against your asshole. Surprise and arousal made you arch your back, which was fruitless, the restrains on your body so tight you couldn’t move at all.
He was still close, observing the vines playing with your body, controlling everything but not touching you. You felt dehumanized, you were just a means to an end for him. And that made you hot. You could be anybody, everybody. He didn’t care. He just wanted your juices… And he was milking every drop off you.
The vine on your pussy pressed against your G-spot, the sensation too rough and raw. Some more juices gushed around it as you came again. He hit and probed and pushed and made your mind go blank as he transformed your body into a pleasure machine. You came, and came, and came. You were sure there was a river down your legs at that point. You were crying, tears running down your face as he assaulted all your sensitive areas at once. Your body felt like an exposed nerve.
When you thought you couldn’t take anymore, he pushed a new vine in your already overflowing pussy. You saw stars as the vines inside of you intertwined. You were so full, so sensitive, you couldn’t stop crying in pleasure, your voice long gone.
And then something inside of you broke completely and you were peeing. Peeing? No, squirting. He made you squirt. Your juices flowed over him, showering his leaves like summer rain. You ascended to another plane, the pleasure beyond human realm, the orgasm so good your brain broke a bit.
He stopped abruptly, his leaves shiny and his face contorted in some sort of a grin. “That would be all, human. You paid the debt to the forest.” You blushed deeply as he lowered your naked body to the ground, a bed of moss forming under you. “I’ll see you soon,” he muttered as he disappeared before your eyes. The earth literally swallowed him.
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prettygiri222 · 5 months
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okay but imagine eren seen a video of his baby momma at the club singin sexy redd’s “ FUCK MY BABYDADDY ” 😭😭 he just brings their son or daughter to reader’s mom and goes back to reader’s house and tears them TF upppp.
i can just hear him saying “ fuck yo baby who?? oh aight. ”
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I had to add rapper!Eren to this cause it's something I always wanted to write😋
Eren x Black Fem Reader, PLOT + SMUT
rapper Eren Yeager's longtime girlfriend of six years broke up with him after having his first child, Duke Yeager. Eren shared a post on instagram confirming their breakup but stated that the both of them remain in Duke’s life as co-parents. the reason why was unreleased so fans speculated that Eren must’ve cheated because why else would you willingly break up with the famous rapper. his management released a statement saying it was due to conflicting schedules but it was seen as damage control so no one believed it.
during the six years of the relationship, his management managed to keep your face out of the media. but with the way Eren was constantly posting snippets of you, fans soon discovered who you were after matching physical features, traits and location that were found on his story with the ones present on your small instagram.
you two quickly became the it couple, how the girl from nowhere pulled a famous rapper gave fans hope because they saw them reflected in you. a woman who didn’t have to undergo multiple surgeries to pull the industry's finest. but after the breakup, that image fell.
his management did their best to keep things under wraps to keep the media from tormenting you but it didn’t work. when you posted a picture of yourself postpartum your dms filled with hateful comments wondering why Eren had gotten with you in the first place. you knew it was just jealous fangirls but it still got to you, especially since you weren’t all that confident in your new body and still recovering from your pregnancy. your accounts went silent shortly after.
although the breakup was mutual, the reason why was deeper than scheduling conflicts. you needed someone who was able to be there physically, emotionally and mentally. it was hard for Eren to provide that due to his career path, always travelling the world with a packed schedule. you guys did your best to make it work but after Duke came into the world you just couldn’t handle it anymore. 
Eren was a decent baby daddy and you guys co-parented well. you had full custody of him but when Eren was in town and would have time off you would send Duke over to him. Duke loved his daddy, always wanting to watch his concerts and interviews on the TV when he wasn’t there or free to facetime. Eren always made sure to send double what was asked for in child support to make sure you took care of yourself as well as his son.
that’s why when you reposted your friend’s story of you in the club all hell broke loose. people took it as a diss to your baby daddy, which it was, but not in the way they thought.
earlier that week you had dropped Duke off at Eren’s mansion. he had just flown back in from his world tour and finally had a few weeks off. despite being exhausted he called you up and asked if you could bring Duke over, wanting to spend as much time with his son as possible during his break. he sent over an uber black to pick the two of you up.
when Eren met you two at the door, Duke jumped into his arms smiling and giggling. it’s been a while since he’s seen his daddy in person. the sight made you awe. Eren turned to you and asked if you wanted to stay over so he could spend time with the two most important people in his life but sadly you declined. you didn’t want to interrupt their father and son bonding time.
Duke was almost a clone of Eren, he had his sharp green eyes, german nose and face shape. the only hints of you in him were his full lips, darker skin and coils. Duke was your little bundle of joy but he could be a handful at times. during the few times those two got to spend together Eren spoiled him rotten, whatever he wanted he got and it showed. whenever you told him no he would throw a tantrum saying how he wanted his daddy. you knew you were a good mother but hearing him say that when you were the one who took care of him every day hurt.
---
it was a friday night and Eren was at his crib chilling with Duke. he had his phone on do now disturb so his time with his family wouldn’t be interrupted. it was a shame you weren’t here to spend time with them. after having pizza, soda and ice cream for dinner the boys passed out on the couch after staying up past midnight watching movies. 
his peace was soon interrupted by the constant buzz of his phone. it roused him from his sleep but Duke slept through it. after the third ring, he finally answered the phone. he was pissed that his manager was calling him knowing it was his time off but he figured it must be important for them to use emergency bypass to call.
“what’s going on?” his voice gruff from his slumber and irritation. he turned on his phone to see it flooded with notifications from instagram, snapchat, tiktok, twitter, messages, missed calls from his friends and one from his mom and his heart dropped to his stomach. he hadn't dropped anything new recently so he knew whatever was happening had to be bad.
“well… it’s about your baby mama… she uh…” his manager was at a loss for words. he didn't know the words to describe the situation to make it not seem as bad as the media was already making it out to be. he knew Eren would be pissed when he found out what happened and they didn't want to be on the end of it. 
Eren was extremely protective of his family and friends. when he saw the hate you were receiving after you posted a picture of yourself postpartum he took to twitter immediately. he did not play when it came to you, together or not together. you were the mother of his child and you needed your respect. so he was wondering why you were playing in his face like this.
“well what is it?” he snapped, already losing his patience. “is she ok? is she hurt?” he shot upright from his resting position on the couch. he opened up the group chat between him, Armin, Connie, Onyankopon and Jean first. all that was sent was a blurry video followed by a bunch of skull and grave emojis.
he opened the video and immediately recognized the faces of a few of the girls in it as a few of your friends, Sasha, Mikasa and Historia at a club. Sasha, Connie’s model girlfriend was the one to record them singing along to a sexyy red song. he wondered what the video had to do with him until it panned to you. you stood out with your brightly dyed red hair styled in a what he recognized as a wash-and-go.
“fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy!” you were shouting the lyrics a little bit too passionately. you had your middle fingers stuck up to the camera showing off your glittery red acrylic nails. you were clearly wasted, drunk off of whatever drinks Sasha managed to shove down your throat.
“yes bitch!” your friends shouted as you turned around to shake your ass sticking out your tongue. you were wearing a ripped mesh dress. one of your friends reached out to pull down the back of your dress to prevent your ass from showing but the dress was already leaving very little to the imagination. the pregnancy did your body good, you were a bit on the skinny side before but now your hips had filled out, your ass and boobs swole and your skin finally cleared up. you were glowing.
“I’m a fine ass bitch, I ain’t in the in the house sad!” you were feeling yourself. it felt nice to get out of the house and away from Duke no matter how much you loved him. having to take care of a baby by yourself was tiring, no matter how much Eren supported you from afar you needed him there with you.
your friends were hyping you up and your mind grew hazy from both the alcohol and adrenaline. you were far too gone to realize what you said when you yelled “fuck Eren!” instead of the actual lyrics. the camera quickly panned to the floor before the video stopped.
Eren had to replay the video countless times to process what he had seen and heard. but he couldn’t believe it was you. never in the eight years he’s known you have you ever picked up the phone to send a dig at him through social media. no matter how tough the going got, it’s what he respected about you. you always wanted to talk problems through and try to make it work. Eren clenched his fist looking at you now.
Eren knows how baby mamas like you are seen and treated in the industry. he’s seen how they're constantly bashed and embarrassed by the fathers of their children and the media. Eren never wanted that for you, he wanted to give you a ring before he gave you a baby but accidents happen and here you both were. instead of calling him or stopping by to talk you wanted to show out for the fans and diss him. it was stupid of you, he knew you were better than this.
“so it’s “fuck Eren” is that right,” Eren laughed to himself throwing his head back on the couch. sure he couldn’t be there for you and Duke all the time like he wanted but at least he tried. he was a very busy man. but he did what he had to to make sure his mother, Duke and you could have a nice and cozy life. where Duke didn’t have to worry about if he was going to eat dinner that night. “bet.”
“sorry little man but I have to go get your mommy. you’re going to go to stay with your grandma tonight, ok?” he cooed to Duke, waking him up. Duke slowly woke up and was trying to rub the sleep out of his eye. Eren loved his son very much he was the reason he kept this stressful life up. 
he enjoyed making music and performing but not during the days when he slept in the studio trying to find the perfect lyrics and beat or days where he hardly slept because he had to stay on his feet. it was a fast life and if he couldn’t keep up it would all come crashing down. and for you to make a dig at that knowing how he felt was fucked.
“Eren Yeager!” his manager shouted through the phone overhearing the whole thing. he needed Eren to keep a calm head and not do anything rash tonight. he didn’t need him sparking more outrage in the media or doing something that could potentially ruin the relationship you two had. “what are you going to do?”
“what else, I’m going to go fuck my baby mama,” before his manager could get another word out he hung up the phone. 
“daddy said a bad word!”
“...don’t tell your mom and I’ll bring you to the studio with me.”
---
you wobbled into your apartment with a sheepish grin. it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulder tonight. it’s been a while since you went to the club and got so drunk that the world became a blur. you were slowly regaining memories of what happened that night and you couldn’t help but cringe knowing you would regret some of them in the morning. your phone died on your way home after you reposted Sasha’s story so you were oblivious to the buzz you had created.
when you went to unlock your door you found out that it was already open. you raised your brow but you brushed it off thinking you must’ve forgotten to lock it in your rush to leave the house. you knew the security for your building was tight, it was the main thing you were looking for when you were buying your apartment. it was a necessity since Duke was the son of a successful rapper. 
when you and Eren had split you bought yourself a nice little two-bedroom apartment deep in the city. Eren offered to pay for it but you immediately declined, you didn’t want anything else of yours to get attached to him. during your relationship you saved up a lot of money since Eren had always offered to buy you whatever you wanted and spoiled you rotten just like he was doing with Duke. he fueled your shopping addiction only wanting his girlfriend to have the best of the best.
you had a little side hustle as an occasional hairstylist and nail artist for your friends and family with the occasional new client. Eren told you time and time again you didn’t need to work and that he would take care of everything. but you liked having your own source of income it made you feel independent plus you enjoyed your job.
being able to close on your dream apartment was a dream come true and it left you feeling satisfied. you loved how everything was within walking distance, there was a daycare down the street along with an elementary school for when Duke got older. there was a grocery store right around the corner with a few outlets and public transit ran just outside the building, it was perfect for a single mother like you. 
“thought we were doing good with this co-parenting shit mama?” the second you opened the door you were greeted by a voice you knew better than your own. goosebumps covered your arms, ‘why is he here’ you thought.
“Eren?” you called out into the dark apartment. you felt the wall closest to the door for the switch and turned the light on. and there he was, Eren, your famous baby daddy. he turned his head to look at you from where he was seated on the couch. his eyes were extremely low, watching your every move. “are you ok? where's Duke?”
“with your mom,” Eren was having such a pleasant high, he felt so relaxed and calm in the dark room. he didn’t have the TV on and was just staring at the black screen. but the second the room lit up and you walked through the door with that tiny see-through dress on it dispersed. he narrowed his eyes down at you and you could tell you had just blown his high. his anger simmering underneath his calm demeanour. 
“how’d you even get in?” you never gave Eren the key to your apartment. having already been split and you always dropped Duke off at his place there was no reason for him to have one.
“front desk gave me a key after I flashed a couple of stacks,” he replied nonchalantly, like it wasn’t a crime on both parts. you rolled your eyes, this was how Eren fixed all his problems, with money. you get that when he was growing up it was something he didn’t have but now that he had it was like all he knew how to do was throw it at people to make his problems disappear.
“well if Duke isn’t here then there’s no reason for you to be,” you don’t know what you did to warrant this visit but you didn’t want to be in his presence any longer. you liked to keep your contact with Eren as minimal as possible. plus you didn’t have the energy to deal with him tonight, you were tired. hoping he would get the hint it was time to leave you walked away and headed towards your bedroom, “please see yourself out. we can talk another day.”
“nah, 'cause it’s “fuck Eren” right?” he got up from the couch and followed you down the hall and into your room. the wooden floor creaking under his weight. you didn’t have to turn around to know he was towering over you, you could feel him breathing down your neck. you tried to move away from him but he gripped your waist with a firm grip underneath and pulled you against him. “you must’ve gone crazy going so long with my dick huh? that must be it, acting like you lost your damn mind.”
“Eren!” you pulled away to look back at him in shock. “what are you even talking about?”
“don’t play dumb with me mama, your ass is all over the shade room talking about “fuck my baby daddy” ” he took his phone out of his pocket to show you their newest post. it was a screenshot of a video but it was clearly you, it was the same outfit and hairstyle you had on right now. you swiped the image on his phone in disbelief and the video played, “fuck Eren! fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy!”
“oh my gosh! Eren, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I was drunk and got carried away,” you looked up at him from the phone. you could tell he was pissed, his eyes darkened after hearing what you said in the video for the hundredth time. you were horrified, you didn’t mean to air out your personal problems and make Eren seem like a bad father. you knew how the public blew things out of proportion.
“they say drunk words are sober thoughts,” Eren stated, shrugging his shoulders. “I know Duke be stressing you out ma, let me fix it,” he stared down at you with a little smirk. he licked his lips, obviously checking you out. it's been a while since he's seen your body exposed, you always show up to drop Duke off in oversized sweaters and shirts. just looking at you like this made his dick hard, “plus you owe me an apology.”
that’s how you found yourself face down ass up in your bedroom with the man you’d never thought would step foot in your new apartment. Eren was behind you standing at the edge of the bed, his black and grey nike tech sweater was thrown somewhere in your room leaving him in a white wife beater and his golden cuban link chain. his grey sweats were down so that just his dick was out.
“mm fuck Eren! please,” you cried out. no matter how deeply you arched or angled your hips you couldn’t get him to reach where you needed him the most. he knew that but he loved watching you struggle and the way your brown cheeks jiggled after coming into contact with his pelvis. you were a sight to see, one that he deeply missed.
“you can do better than that mama,” he raised his pierced brow watching you. Eren stood completely still behind you, you had your face buried in the sheets as you attempted to throw it back on him. you were still dressed in your mesh dress but he ripped your thong off. “I saw you in that video. you were shaking that shit so c’mon, fuck me back ma.”
your makeup was staining your sheets but you could care less right now. the feeling of Eren stretching out your practically virginal walls was dumbfounding. he didn’t bother to stretch you out believing that your body was already moulded to his shape. but it’s been about two years since you last had sex. your tight walls were struggling to accommodate his humongous size.
“ ’m trying,” the lack of stimulation on your sweet spots had you in tears. the stretch was pleasurable but it wasn’t enough, paired with the shallow thrusts. you so desperately craved more so you reached in between your legs to play with your clit. Eren groaned at the sight of you touching yourself, not to mention you began to clench around him. 
“damn ma, now that’s what I’m talking about,” Eren gave your ass a harsh slap. you let out a little whine as you lost your rhythm because of it. but you soon found it again. your wetness was soaking his dick and you were basically twerking on his dick. Eren loved every second of it. 
he took one of your ass cheeks and pulled it to the side with his tattooed hand, he watched himself go in and out of your brown folds. feeling the unsteady approach of his orgasm watching as you struggled to fuck yourself on him he decided to finally grant you mercy. he languidly began to thrust into you. “go ahead and nut on this dick mama.”
 “o-okay” you stuttered out. you struggled to concentrate on stimulating your sensitive clit while bouncing back to meet Eren’s lazy thrusts. your fingers were covered in your own wetness while you rubbed little circles on your bud. each loop paired with the tip of his dick pressing against that spongy spot inside you brought you ever closer to your climax. “ ‘m so close!”
“let it out for me baby,” the pace became erratic, you guys’ release at its peak. sometimes his dick collided straight into your soft spot and sometimes it completely missed. but the feeling of him pummeling in and out of you had you convulsing around his dick. “keep squeezing around me like that and I'll put another baby in you, fuck.”
you let out broken whines as you struggled to continuously stimulate your bud. you were soaking wet that your fingers slipped around. “‘ren! ren!” you chanted, reaching out toward him with your slick-covered hand. Eren grabbed it and put it in his mouth. groaning deeply as he licked and sucked on your coated digits.
“don’t worry mama, I got you. let it out for me,” Eren leaned over your arched form and whispered in your ear. his husky sending shivers down your spine as he talked you through it. you listened to him feeling the wave of pleasure overwhelm you, the sensation in your stomach bursting.
“f-fuck, fuck!”
“shit,” when he felt himself about to burst he pulled out of your pussy's compelling grasp. he watched the lewd scene in front of him and used it to jerk off. he groaned out stroking his soaking dick. your pussy hole remained gaping after he pulled out and your liquids were spilling on your sheets. after a few strokes, he released all over your back onto your mesh dress staining it.
you plopped down onto your empty bed exhausted. the room filled with the sound of laboured breathing as you guys tried to catch your breath. the sound of Eren shuffling around could be heard soon after. your heart ached at the thought of him leaving you so soon but you closed your eyes, ‘it’s for the better’ you thought. you wanted a few moments of rest before you went to wash up.
but Eren wasn’t finished yet, he was shedding the remaining articles of his clothing leaving him naked. your eyes opened feeling the bed dip under the extra weight. before you could protest, Eren had already climbed on top of you, grabbing your legs and having them pushed over your head, “we’re not finished yet.”
this time Eren took the lead, he had ripped off your dress leaving you completely naked and exposed to his eyes. he had you folded over like a pretzel leaving you open for him. your legs were bent so far over your head you could see the top of your pussy and watch as Eren thrusted in and out of your overstimulated hole from above. the pleasure made you want to slither away but Eren’s strong hold kept you still.
“E-eren!” you were losing your mind from the stimulation. “too much! it’s too much!” you cried out. you reached out to push against his rock-hard abdomen. you didn’t want him to stop, not when you were so close to your second orgasm of the night but it was too much. he was being so rough with you. you didn’t think you had it in you after motherhood to be manhandled like this.
“nah, you can take it. you’re a big girl now, dissing me at the club with your friends. be glad I’m even fucking you since I’m such a “bad baby daddy.” Eren mocked you from above. he didn’t even flinch as you tried to push him away. he smiled down at you watching how easily you got fucked out. moans were no longer coming out your mouth, more like strangled sobs and whines that were being forced out after each deep thrust of his. the head of his dick battering your insides and abusing your soft spot left you tremoring underneath him.
“imsorryimsorry,” you babbled out. your mascara and eyeliner were running down your cheeks and your lipstick was smothered but you couldn’t look any prettier to Eren. he enjoyed watching as your tits bounce around. he brought his forest green eyes back up to you watching as you bit your quivering lip.
“how’d that song go again?” Eren sarcastically asked. with the number of times he replayed that video he had the lyrics, beat and rhythm all memorized. “something like this right?” pap! pap! pap! Eren changed the rhythm of his thrusts, the sound of his balls clapping against your ass and the squelching sounds of your pussy mimicked the bow bow bow of the song. he angled each thrust to deliver a particularly harsh hit to your g-spot.
without warning an intense feeling of pleasure erupted in your stomach. “imcuming!” you cried out. you could feel a liquid flow out from your pussy, completely drenching Eren’s dick. he quickly pulled out to watch you squirt, a sight he immensely missed. the translucent liquid gushed out of your hole soaking the sheets as well.
“you said fuck your baby who?” Eren smiled down at your fucked out face. you couldn’t even answer him with the overwhelming pleasure rendering all of your senses useless. your head was thrown back and your face furrowed, coming down from the high of your intense orgasm. “oh aight.”
I think I got a bit carried away🤭
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kamiversee · 3 months
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 4 || The Power of Lust
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, a tinge of smut, & sexual tension.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.2k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——IT WAS ALMOST AS THOUGH twenty-four hours had gone by in the simple blink of your eye. The day of your date with Geto arrived much sooner than you anticipated.
You had expected the hours to be long and for every second to be excruciating. These expectations of yours quickly went down the drain when you found yourself at the front door to Gojo and Geto's apartment the next day.
Fiddling with your fingers, tugging at the bottom of your violet-shaded dress, and tapping your foot on the floor below due to an excessive build-up of nerves. Your heart is pounding. Why? Because the dress you're wearing is far too short and tight, it reveals an unnecessary amount of cleavage, and having your back exposed doesn't help much either.
Of course, it was Gojo who'd bought the dress for you. He told you that Geto would like it on you so, here you are.
You insisted with Geto that you'd meet him at his place at 7 o'clock but here you are ten minutes before seven trying to pull yourself together. After all, the date itself isn't exactly important. It's seducing Geto and convincing him to have sex with you as soon as possible that is.
A hand has been raised to the door of the apartment time and time again but never did you knock. You refused to. Given how worried you are, you stand there rehearsing how you expect this night to go mentally.
It should be simple; greet Geto, go out to a nearby restaurant, get to know him enough while flirting with him, and ultimately... fuck him by the end of the night.
Easy.
...
Right?
No. Not even close. There's absolutely no way you can do this. You got lucky with Gojo; he already wanted to sleep with you. Geto is a whole different story, hell, he's literally a stranger to you. Nine times out of ten, your words will fall off your tongue the second you lay eyes on him.
But then again, just maybe it won't go so bad. The trick to flirting is simply being quick and witty with your responses. Just lure him in. It won't be hard.
With a deep breath and a small friendly smile, you finally tap your knuckles against the door.
It takes a few minutes but after your knock, instead of Geto opening the door, it's Gojo who flings his front door open.
That smile of yours drops instantly as you meet those annoying blue eyes of his.
"Satoru, what the hell?" You whine.
Naturally, you're bothered by the way you had finally managed to get somewhere only for Gojo to open it.
His bright white locks of hair are noticeably wet, his eyelids low, his shirt nowhere to be seen, and his black sweats just barely hanging off that oddly attractive waist of his. That stupid smirk of his that he usually gives you is missing but his face is reddened and he looks slightly out of breath.
With a head tilt and leaning his body against the door frame, Gojo speaks to you in a startlingly low tone. "Thought' I told you to call me when you got here...?" He huffs.
You roll your eyes, "Why would I call you when I'm not here for you? And are you okay? Why's your hair wet?"
For a minute, Gojo is unresponsive. Not because he wanted to be rude or anything but because the man was far too distracted taking in your appearance. Your hair was done nicely, he swears your face is glowing in perfection, and the way you look in that tight dark purple fabric only makes Gojo furrow his brows as he focuses on it.
All his attention goes to the way the dress clings to you, the way it shapes you, and even that faint but pleasant scent of perfume that radiates off your skin.
With no response from him yet, you loom forward a little, "Satoru? Hello?" You call out. His gaze is slow but it eventually settles on your eyes again after you raise a hand to snap your fingers at him. "Are you okay??" You repeat.
Gojo nods lazily, a clear lie but you don't exactly get much time to scold him about it because the male steps forward and shuts his apartment door behind him. On instinct, you step back. His lack of words to you is odd, especially since he's normally so talkative. And this look in his eyes...
"The dress looks good on you." He compliments while taking yet another step toward you.
You swallow hard, "Thanks but can you answer at least one of my questions, I'm already nervous enough as it is and I don't need you adding-"
Gojo steps forward again, causing your mouth to close as you step back into a wall. The hallway isn't exactly small but it sure felt like it with the way Gojo had you pressed against the wall.
Again, you swallow down your nerves and narrow your eyes up at the man. He heaves out a sigh and bends down to your level, meeting your eyes at a closer range and inching toward you. The closer he gets, the stronger this scent of freshness becomes.
As his face nears yours, you notice how ridiculously clear his skin is, how he smells like soap, and it doesn't take many other signs to realize that he'd recently got out of the shower.
"Satoru...?" You whisper, "Why are you getting so close?"
Your words come out slowly, anxiety building up throughout your veins. Gojo's head tips to the side a little and he suddenly places a hand at your waist. If you weren't already nervous you surely are now.
"Y'know," He begins, voice still low, "There's no time frame on the list I gave you."
Confused by his actions and words, your face scrunches up a little. "Yeah, I already knew that. Why are you reminding me?" You ask as you carefully slip a hand over his own and try to remove his hold on you.
Gojo licks his lips and gives you a tired little smirk, "Cause', you don't have to hook up with Suguru today."
You blink. "I know but I have to at least go on a date with him. This is all a part of my plan, y'know?" You say gently, attempting to lighten the oddly tense mood.
His sights fall to your lips, "Oh, you have an actual plan?"
"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?" You huff out before moving your hands to his chest. You want to push him away a little but when you try, he doesn't budge at all.
Gojo instead only gets closer, his breath hitting your lips. The man then places his hands over your wrists and pulls them upwards to wrap around his neck.
Your brows immediately furrow again, "Satoru-"
"Can you kiss me?" He cuts off.
Your hands are already halfway around his neck but even as you comfortably wrap them, you want to tell him no. You really want to but with the way he's looking at you, how close he is, and how he refuses to look away from your lips... you couldn't get the word no out in time.
Gojo closes the distance between your face and his but he doesn't kiss you. His lips only brush over yours, "Don't make me beg for it." He hums.
You gulp, "Why... Why do you want to kiss so suddenly?"
Those pretty blue eyes of his finally glide up to your own and you can see the neediness in his gaze. "Just one?" He asks, completely disregarding your question.
"I..." You trail off. For a second, you'd forgotten what you came over for.
And it is in that second that Gojo's voice drops to a whisper, "Please?"
Who are you to decline Gojo Satoru of one kiss when he asks so nicely? Even though he's blackmailing you to do ridiculous things; his touches and his gentleness with you are what keep tugging at the strings of your heart.
Even now, the man peers down at you as if you are the very air he needs to breathe. It's like there's nothing else important to him-- not his best friend awaiting your arrival, not the list of people he's asked you to sleep with, just you and him.
Dropping your sights down to his lips and letting out a sigh, "Only one." You finally murmur in response.
It won't hurt, right? One little kiss?
You push up on your toes a little and tilt your head opposite of him as you press your lips into his. Surprise comes to you when Gojo hums against you as soon as he feels you. Hands slide to your waist and instead of a little peck on the lips, the two of you share one prolonged slow kiss.
Your lips part over his but his tongue is quick to slip into your mouth. Somewhere in your mind, you told yourself you should stop but when you have Gojo's hands all over you and when he begins kissing you harder, logical thoughts are quickly lost.
Plus, you had time before meeting Geto so you weren't worried about getting caught... for the most part.
The feeling of Gojo's hand against your exposed back makes you arch into him a bit. The two of you wet up each other's lips and his free hand goes to your hip, "C'mere," He whispers in between your lips before he tugs you closer.
Hums leave your throat as the slight groan in his voice causes you to lose all sense of thought. That's when you get into it a bit more-- sliding a hand up into his hair, pushing your chest flush against his, and slipping your tongue over his.
It's sensual and timeless. Everything about Gojo Satoru constantly distracts or consumes you. His hand is gentle against your back but the hold he has on your hip is possessive.
As though this small kiss was a reminder for you, Gojo wants it to be clear that even if you go off and sleep with every man on that list in one day: he's still here waiting for you. Blackmail or not, Gojo longs for this; your touch, your kiss, the sound of your voice, you. And it is this last kiss that he uses to tell you that.
Even though... you don't put all of that together in that moment. To you, he's just kissing you because he doesn't know how to control himself.
It's not long after the kiss grows more heated that the sound of his apartment door opening startles the two of you. Both of you tare your lips apart with a loud smack and you go as far as pushing him away a bit so that the two of you look inconspicuous.
"There you are," Geto's voice is heard from behind Gojo, "I was looking everywhere for you Satoru."
Almost like a switch was flipped, Gojo's voice is back to normal. "Yeah?" He says with a little chuckle.
Your body is blocked by Gojo so Geto hasn't exactly set eyes on you just yet. Before he moves, Gojo raises a hand to his mouth and swipes his lower lip with his thumb. His eyes are directly on yours and chills run down your spine as you watch him lick off, what you assume to be the taste of your lips, from his thumb.
With a shake of your head, you return your focus to your reasoning for being here. After which, you pop your head around Gojo's body and make eye contact with Geto.
"Oh, I didn't even see you there," Geto chuckles as he flashes you a smile.
Good lord, your predictions were right-- your mind is already scrambling for a response. Why? Because you're too distracted wondering if it's even legal to look that good. Then again, he's no different from Gojo; both men are absurdly attractive.
A long black trench coat hangs off Geto's shoulders, the grey-colored fabric of a turtle neck noticeable to you, and black dress pants. The entire outfit is fitting for the date you're going on and your attire compliments him so... Why the hell do you feel so self-conscious?
Gojo clears his throat, and steals one more full glance at you before turning his head to his best friend and smiling, "You didn't hear the knock on the door?" He asks.
"No, I didn't," Geto replies, looking slightly confused. "But it doesn't matter," He hums, shifting his gaze to you, "I'm glad you're here."
You force a smile, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of Gojo's lips over yours. "Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I knocked too softly."
Geto waves it off, his smile widening. "It's fine," He says as he glances at his watch, "You were early anyways."
Slowly, you step to the side so that Gojo is no longer blocking the rest of your body and that smile on Geto's face flickers a bit. His breath gets stuck right in the middle of his throat but he plays it off with a cough, turning his head to the side and looking away from you.
Gojo, who feels forgotten already, tries to enter relevancy by tossing an arm over your shoulder. You flinch a bit but he's casual with his next words. "She looks good, right Suguru?" He asks.
Geto inhales deeply and just barely looks at you one more time, "Too damn good," He mutters to himself before playing it off with a simple nod.
A slight squeeze is given to your arm before Gojo looks at you, "See? I told you he'd like it."
You shoot him a quick glare before pushing his arm off you, "Whatever."
Geto chuckles at the interaction between you and his best friend. From his perspective, you seem to always be annoyed by Gojo but that's nothing new to Geto. He knows firsthand how annoying Gojo can be sometimes so he understands your displayed frustration and thinks nothing of it.
"A-Anyways," You start, bringing yourself to Geto's side and smoothly slipping your arms around one of his. You then incline your head up to him, "We should get going now."
Geto glances down at you, uses every ounce of restraint he has to not look at your cleavage, and then nods. "Yeah." Looking back up at his friend, he smiles, "Bye Satoru."
You don't notice it but Gojo gives Geto a look before smiling. "Have fuun." Gojo teases, turning to head inside.
With that, Geto carefully pulls you along and the two of you head down the hallway toward the elevator. You turn back to look at Gojo one more time for reasons you yourself are unsure of, noticing that his eyes are quick to meet yours.
Gojo winks at you and you scowl, your reaction only earning a chuckle from him before he dips into his apartment.
Out of your sight, Gojo lets out a shaky sigh and looks down at himself. He's relieved that you didn't even realize the raging bulge in his sweats.
The male's back rests against the door and he tips his head back. Fuck, the way that dress looked on you was way better than he imagined it would.
You didn't know it but when you knocked on the door, Gojo had been in the middle of fisting his cock in thought of you. He'd been in the shower, water running down his toned body while stroking his length. All while replaying past events of you beneath him.
When he heard the door, he had to stop what he was doing because he didn't hear Geto answer it and didn't want you standing out in the hallway all alone for too long.
Then, when he saw you in that dress... he had half a mind to pull you into the apartment and fuck you against the nearest surface without a care in the world of your date with his best friend. The way you won't leave his mind is dizzying.
Even at this very second, his hand found its way wrapped around his cock again. Damnit, Gojo curses himself for the effect you unknowingly have on him.
Just what did he get himself into...?
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
In the elevator down, you remain close to Geto's body. He smells really good and it's only the two of you inside so you feel less awkward holding his arm. His apartment is decently high up in the building they live in, located on the ninth floor, so it takes a few minutes to get down.
And it doesn't help that the elevator is really slow, creaking and straining with each floor it passes. Around the sixth floor, you steal a glance at Geto's side profile. You just wanted a quick look at him, y'know to take in more of his appearance. Yet, you quickly forget the words you wanted to say.
Thus resulting in you admiring his looks from the side.
Your staring doesn't go unnoticed, "You alright?" Geto suddenly says, causing you to jump. Quickly, you take your eyes off him but he only smiles and turns his head to you, "I don't mind you staring but, you looked like you wanted to say something."
How did he see you staring without looking at you? You have no idea. "No, it's nothing." You say casually.
"You sure? Was there something on my face or...?" Geto questions further.
You shake your head, "Nope. I was just uhm..."
He tilts his head, focused completely on you and how you no longer want to glance at him. "Just what? Admiring me?" Geto teases.
You scoff playfully, "Yeah."
An eyebrow is raised, "Yeah?" He repeats.
"Mhm..." You nod a little, still refusing to look at him again. You can't handle the eye contact.
Geto smirks, "Why'd you stop?"
You shrug, "I was done with my admiration."
"So soon?" He teases.
The way his eyes won't leave your face is frustrating. Your brain is already all over the place, wondering if you smell alright, look alright, and even sound alright. You haven't been on a date in so long so of course you're nervous.
You try focusing on the slow change of floors as the elevator descends but it's no use. Instead, you sigh and finally glance at Geto again, "Yup." You hum.
The moment you meet his eyes he grins, "What if I wanted you to continue?"
Flirt. Now's your chance. The whole point of this is to seduce him so do that. You tell yourself before smiling a little, "Do you?"
"Yes, actually." The man replies honestly as he drinks in the sight of your smile, "I like your eyes on me."
"Is that the only part of me you'd like on you, Suguru?" You suddenly blurt out with a boldness you didn't even expect yourself to have.
Geto pauses, having not expected you to utter such a thing so abruptly. After a second, he chuckles and sets his sights elsewhere, "Cute but, we can save that for later."
Damnit. The man is almost like a brick wall when it comes to having a sexual conversation. You wonder if it's obvious that you want to sleep with him. Are you being too transparent with your goals?
Wait... is this how guys feel when they take girls out on dates just to get in their pants? Damn, who would've thought it'd be so frustrating. Only difference is, your exposure is on the line here. Who knows what Gojo will do if you somehow fail to seduce any of the men on the list.
"Actually," Geto suddenly says, breaking you from your thoughts. "I changed my mind," He voices, looking to you.
Your heart sinks a little. Changed his mind about what? Is he about to cancel this date already? Did you go too far...? Shit, did you make him uncomfortable-
"Your eyes aren't the only thing of yours I want on me," He hums, now catching you by surprise. His arm then moves from out of your hold and is placed on your lower back, startling you for the second time in a row.
A sudden tug of your body to his has your heart beating like crazy. Geto peers down at you and tilts his head again, "I want your body on me too but we made reservations, gorgeous." He says, voice deep. His body then tips down closer to you, "You wouldn't wanna be late to that now would you?"
Your head shakes slowly, almost as though you'd been put in a trance by both his smooth words and intense look.
"That's what I thought," Geto moves a hand to your chin and pushes your head up further so he can get a clear look at your face. "So, you think you can be patient for me?"
You nod and notice how he looks down to your lips.
Placing a thumb to your bottom lip, he weighs it down slightly, "Words, use them. I haven't done anything to take your breath away yet."
A subtle wave of heat rushes to your face, "R-Right. I can be patient."
"You sure?" Geto teases.
The look in your eyes changes a little and you push your lips further against his thumb as if to taunt him. "Mhm." You hum in an innocent manner.
You weren't aware of it and nor did you mean to, but you definitely just gave him bedroom eyes. The sight has Geto clearing his throat and moving his hand from your face before looking away from you.
A ding is heard as the elevator finally reaches the lobby floor. Geto lightly pushes on your lower back and you get the hint by walking out slightly ahead of him.
As you step out of the elevator, Geto's eyes finally slip up and drop down to your ass. He tells himself it was an accident and that he didn't even mean to look but he most definitely does not try to look away once his eyes are there.
Even though he doesn't look away, he regrets his sight falling so low in the first place. The dress you're wearing is nothing more than a distraction. The man was already struggling to keep his mind at bay from when he first saw you. Then when you had looped your arms around his, he felt the side of your breast press against him and it caused his mind to stray.
The question you asked a few minutes ago was no help either. How ridiculous, asking him if he wants more of you on him. Of course he does, have you seen yourself? The way your eyes get all seductive when you look up at him, those little scoffs and giggles that leave you from time to time, and practically every time you touch him or he feels you, Geto finds himself affected by you.
So as he watches you walk a few steps ahead of him, eyes glued to your ass, he keeps replaying that question of yours over. He could've answered it so many other ways, all of which would probably have taken you by surprise.
He could only imagine the look on your face if he told you his true thoughts. How his mind forced imaginations of you over him, your thighs caging his head, cunt over his mouth while his tongue fucks up into you-
God, he should not be thinking like this. Is it because he's hungry? Perhaps. Geto tries to deter these thoughts by thinking of actual food, something that won't make him horny but will instead work up his appetite. And it almost worked too, that was... until you dropped your phone and bent over in front of him.
Poor guy didn't even realize how short that dress of yours actually was until you went down to grab your phone. It was purposeful too, bending over instead of crouching down, exposing more of your thighs and even giving the man a flash of the lace beneath your dress.
As you swipe your phone up, you take the quickest peak behind you to see Geto's eyes widened ever so slightly and his focus exactly where you wanted it. You intentionally take a second to get your phone in your hands to prolong teasing the man.
Geto, who definitely knows that all your actions are deliberate, shoots his eyes upward so that he's no longer looking at you. He takes a sigh, thinking that he's managed to control himself. Yet, his feet and hands never stopped moving. He stepped right into you, almost toppling your body over.
His hands moved instinctively, grabbing ahold of your hips so that neither of you fell over. Doing so, his crotch comes into direct contact with you and you're quick to stand up.
As you stand, you purposefully arch your back a little, prolonging the feeling of your ass pressing back into Geto's crotch. After trying so hard to control himself, your actions made all his efforts go down the drain.
Hands slide up from your hips to your waist and he makes sure that you can feel him against you as he moves to your ear.
"Careful now," He murmurs to you with a deep tone, "Bending over like that..." He moves his hand a little to tug your dress down properly so that it's not hiking up your legs, "Are you trying to show everybody what's supposed to be mine tonight?" Geto utters to you in full seriousness, tutting afterward.
You glance around the lobby, seeing only a few people scattered around, none of which seem to be paying the two of you any mind. "No one saw me but you." You respond to the man.
He scoffs, "Let's keep it that way. Don't bend over in front of me like that unless..." He holds his tongue, sighing instead.
Control, he's lacking it majorly right now. He was fine when he first met you, fine when you and he texted about the date, and even fine when you spoke on the phone a little.
Your head turns to the side and you meet his gaze, ignoring the pounding of your heart, "Unless what?" You say teasingly.
Geto stares at you with low lids, you're driving him crazy and the date hasn't even begun yet. Leaning in a bit closer to you, his lips nearing your own but never connecting, "Unless you wanna get fucked in front of everyone." He tells you.
Part of you wanted to tell yourself that this was just flirting but the way he gazes at you tells you otherwise. He's dead serious. So serious that you don't even have a response to that, whatever confidence you had before freezes and you just look into his eyes.
Your little pause gave you enough time to come up with a response, "Maybe I do," You blurt out before turning your head away.
You then start walking forward, Geto's hands slipping off your body as you do so. He raises one of those hands to his jaw and rubs it a little, letting out a scoff in reaction to your straightforwardness.
The change between the woman you present yourself to be now versus the woman he first met is quite noticeable. Not that he prefers one over the other, Geto enjoyed it when you were stuttering over simple words but he also likes how upfront you're being tonight. It makes him wonder if you'll still be acting this way later on tonight while he-
"C'mon Suguru, we have reservations to get to. Remember?" You throw out to him, taking him from his thoughts as you exit the building and he soon catches up to you.
Again, he scoffs. This time Geto smiles as he follows you out. Tonight will be fun. He thinks to himself.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The two of you took an Uber to the restaurant, the air within the ride blooming with lust. His hand ends up resting on your thigh during the ride, playing with the plush of your skin every now and then.
Each squeeze he gives to your leg makes you squirm, whispering to him that it tickles and earning a chuckle from him. As the car drives through the streets of the city, Geto's hand only plans to tease you more.
At first, it merely rested atop your thigh, but as the ride continued, he slowly slid it so that his fingers were right against your inner thigh.
He continues to toy with your skin before he leans over to you, whispering into your ear, "You plan on teasing me all night?"
You smile, "Maybe."
His hand pulls on your thigh a bit, causing your legs to part. "Think you can handle what your teasing invokes?" Geto questions, almost as if he were trying to warn you.
You laugh his question off and turn your head to look at him, your faces closer than you expected them to be. "I think so, yeah." You say half-confidently.
The raven-haired male's eyes dip down to your lips and he bites down on his lower one. That hand of his begins sliding up and you gasp as his fingers tread dangerously close to your crotch.
"Yeah? Well, I'll tell you from now, you can't." He claims.
With a roll of your eyes, you scoff and turn your head away from him, "Whatever."
Geto's hand parts your legs even wider and he pushes himself to your ear, "You could hardly handle Satoru," He taunts, moving his other hand in between your legs and pressing two fingers against you. "What makes you think you can handle me, gorgeous?"
Your body tenses and you're quick to shoot your hand down over his wrist, attempting to move him away. His fingers knead into you and your jaw drops a little as your eyes widen. The two of you are almost to the restaurant and you're frantically looking at the Uber driver to ensure that they're not paying attention.
Luckily, their focus is completely on the road ahead but that doesn't stop you from feeling anxious.
You close your legs on Geto's hand and he snickers in your ear, "Want me to stop?" He asks.
Despite his question, his two fingers rub against your underwear, taking the idea of teasing to another level. Your head nods in response but your hips push into his touch a little, causing him to furrow his brows.
"Shit, you're naughty." He whispers lowly, "In an Uber? Seriously?"
"Fuck, n-no..." You murmur, turning your head to him, "Move your hand, please?" You slightly gasp out, arousal spurring within you due to the gentle teasing rub of Geto's digits.
He does, sliding his hand away just as you requested. A mischievous smile is plastered across his face now and you're quick to realize... Gojo was right; Geto does in fact plan to have a 'field day' with you-- and this was only the beginning.
That, and Geto just confirmed for a second time that he is well aware of your intentions, probably the list you're forced to go through, and even the fact that you've already slept with Gojo.
Damn that white-haired asshole. Of course he told Geto everything, you shouldn't be surprised.
The issue is, now you'll likely have to deal with Geto taunting you about that stupid list and he may not even sleep with you tonight just to tarnish your plans.Great...
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ☐
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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wttcsms · 1 month
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you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody, atsumu miya
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pairing atsumu miya x reader word count 1.4k synopsis love for you is holding him; love for him is allowing himself to be held. content contains hurt/comfort, intimacy, atsumu-centric, insecurities, unconditional love, showering together but make it sfw
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The stinging spray of scalding hot water from the showerhead should be enough to get him to leave, but he barely registers the pain, can’t seem to bring himself to feel the heat, can’t seem to bring himself to feel anything.
No — that’s not entirely true. He feels one thing.
Devastated. 
Everyone knows Atsumu Miya likes to talk shit on and off the court. It’s his thing, his trademark, his brand. Lots of athletes like to talk big about how they’re going to win; who the hell is going to support a guy who walks onto the court with a well, it’ll be alright if I lose. 
He’s staring down at the tiles of the shower, can somewhat register the persistent barrage of water spraying onto his back as he has one hand splayed on the wall, shoulders slumped, water dripping from his hair and running into his vision, making everything blurry. 
Don’t blink, he tries to demand of himself, but the issue is, we can’t always control our bodies. He has to shut his eyes, just for a brief second, and in that second, it all comes back to him.
The opposing team at set point. His team depending on him to serve. One point left. Only one chance. He can feel the stadium’s crowd holding their breath, can feel the lack of air in the atmosphere, can hear how loudly the blood is rushing to his head. Dizzy. Dazed. He doesn’t give into pressure, not anymore, not ever. Doesn’t feel performance anxiety, knows better than to try to attempt something flashy just for the glory of a good story to tell. 
Give ‘em a serve they don’t have a chance of receiving, he demands of himself. 
The final seconds of the match all come to him like stills from a movie, each frame another devastating blow to his ego, his self-worth, his very being. The ball is in the air, he’s bending his knees to prepare for the jump, his hand making contact with the ball. Something’s off, he can feel it upon first contact, but it’s too late to save, too late for him to change anything.
The ball lands.
On his side of the net.
He’s frozen in place as he stares ahead. He can tell the other team is cheering, slapping each other on their backs, and he can hear the blow of a whistle, the celebration from the crowd. But all he sees is the ball. All he sees is his failure.
Atsumu has spent a good portion of his volleyball career knowing that he plays the game better than most. It’s why he feels so comfortable talking about the lack of skills other players display. It’s why he always has something to say at practice, on the court, during a post-game interview. 
And he knows he makes mistakes. He knows that he’s only human. But a bad serve in the middle of a game isn’t as crushing as knowing that he is the sole reason as to why the Black Jackals’ season is going to be ending early. 
Where did he go wrong? He did everything perfectly, did everything the way he usually does. Why couldn’t he perform? Why did he let his team down? Why—
“Atsumu?” 
He doesn’t look up, and all you can see is the sad shape of his outline from the foggy glass door of the shower. You know that Atsumu probably wants nothing more than to be alone right now, but you can’t help but worry when fifteen minutes have gone by, and you could still hear the shower running. That’s your first sign that something is wrong.
Atsumu is a notoriously quick showerer, to an almost concerning degree. When you first started living together, you debated planning elaborate tricks to see whether or not he was even using soap. (Which, in hindsight, was just flatout silly; he walks out the shower smelling overwhelming of his Axe Men’s 3-in-1 and Old Spice deodorant.) 
No — the first sign that something is wrong would be his uncharacteristic silence on the trip back home. He hadn’t responded to your it’s okay, baby, you’ll get ‘em next season. Instead, he just looked out the window, the devastated expression on his face silencing you as well. Even when he lost to Kageyama, he had been disappointed, upset, but still talking big about how he was going to crush the Adlers next time around. He had then made a comment about Tobio’s stupid haircut, and that’s when you told him if he doesn’t have anything nice to say, he shouldn’t say anything at all.
Now, you’d give anything to have him say something. Something for you to work with.  
“Atsumu?” You call out for him again, worried when you don’t see his figure moving. 
Pathetic. Atsumu thinks that’s what he is. A loser, a fucking scrub, a failure. Even if his teammates won’t admit it, the media will. And what then? Will you think that about him too? It’d be the truth, wouldn’t it? Isn’t that why you’re in the bathroom now? To pity him? 
He’s too busy tearing himself down to react to the distinct sound of you sliding back the glass door of the shower so you can enter it. There’s a brief burst of the cool air of the bathroom hitting his exposed body, but it evaporates the moment you shut the door. 
“Oh, ‘Tsumu.” You whisper it, and he wants to tell you that he’s not fucking fragile. That he’s not going to shatter into a million pieces if you just raise your voice, if you tell him how you really feel about him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t turn around to face you. He doesn’t want to. He can’t.
His skin is red from the heat of the water, his back staring at you angrily, hurt. The skin’s going to need some time to heal, and you turn the faucet, lowering the temperature of the water. 
“Turn around, honey. Please?” You’ve never seen Atsumu so upset before, so quiet. You wait several minutes for him to actually do as you request, and you think it’s only because he wants a way to get rid of you sooner. 
You don’t say anything to him as you reach for his shampoo, letting it lather in your hands before you give him a pleading look, one that has him leaning down so you can reach his hair. It feels nice, he thinks, the way you’re shampooing his hair. You’re gentle with your movements, and it almost relaxes him. 
You use your body wash on him. Massage the suds into his skin, but you’re mindful of the amount of pressure you apply. You know which areas of his skin is more sensitive from its exposure to the hot water, and you are careful with the spots of his body that he had chosen to be negligent with. 
“Am I so fuckin’ worthless that you have to do somethin’ as simple as bathing me?” He’s not angry at you. He might spit out the words — words that come out sounding all raw and scratchy, like they had to personally claw themselves from his throat — but the anger is not directed at you. It’s at himself. 
“Look at me.” 
His eyes are glossy, wet, shiny, and you know it’s not because of the shower. You’ve never seen Atsumu cry before, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what feels right. You whisper his name softly, tenderly, and it’s this tenderness, your unwavering softness, your unconditional love, that breaks him. That makes him feel safe enough to break. That makes him think of the possibility that you’ll take these jagged pieces of him and piece them back together for him, with him. 
He’s so much bigger than you. You tell him all the time that he’s larger than life, and he thinks about that comment as he lets himself sink into your open arms, as he lets himself be held. He has never felt smaller in his life, and in your embrace, he buries his face into your shoulder, letting his warm tears mix in with the water already on your body.
“I don’t know how you can still look at me.” He mutters, and every word is spoken onto your skin, tiny blades striking you. 
Atsumu isn’t sure what he wants to hear, isn’t even certain that there’s anything that could be said to ease his devastation, but melts into you even more so when you tell him,
“Atsumu, I thought you already knew that nothing can change the way I look at you.”
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somnambulic-thing · 10 months
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This fic is part I of my come as you are universe but can be read as a standalone.
Series Masterlist
greedy Eddie Munson x gn!best friend reader, early 20s, E 18+
Words: 1.8k
| best friends to lovers, fluff, finger sucking, light biting, Eddie comes in his pants, get together, silly and a little cheesy, not proofread |
---
“You need something?”
“Huh?” you look up from your book and right into Eddie’s eyes staring at you over the edge of his mattress the way a nosey neighbour might lurk over a garden fence. You’d been so lost in your thoughts about Eddie that you hadn’t noticed him abandoning his own book to creep up close to you. You, spread out your stomach on his sheets. Eddie, perched on his carpet in increasingly uncomfortable-looking positions as the evening progresses, but never more than an arm’s length away. You always could just reach out and give his hair a thorough ruffling whenever you felt like it.
That’s just how it was, just one of the many shapes your togetherness takes. Rituals established and refined over years. You share the bed during movie nights, or when one of you is reading out loud to the other and you settle down on the armchair without even thinking about it the second Eddie picks up one of his guitars to play for you, leaving the bed to him.
“Ah, finally I caught your attention,” he says, muffled by the mattress, his fingers slowly creeping over the edge. It’s adorable. 
“What did you say?” you mumble and snap your book close as if the pages could somehow give away that you had been only pretending to read the whole time. He would see smouldering holes with charred edges where your intense stare had lingered and ask you why your brain was producing such intense heat that you ruined the copy of Howl’s Moving Castle he got you for your unbirthday only a week ago.
His brows draw slightly together. His fingers curl to grab the sheets and then he’s dramatically and labourously pulling himself up like he’s climbing a cliff in a storm, huffing and groaning.
“You need any help?” you chuckle; an insufficient expression for the unbridled affection you harbour for this silly man.
“No… no… almost— ahhh.” Chest now flat on the mattress, back bend in one of those ways that made you certain there wasn’t one solid bone in Eddie Munson’s body. He crosses his arms on the mattress and rests his chin on top of his wrist, so close now you could just dip down to press your lips to his forehead.
He smiles up at you. “Book s’ good then?”
“Huh?”
“Huh?” he mocks you. “You haven’t reacted to a thing I said in the past twenty minutes so I assumed the story must be really captivating.”
“Oh!”
“Oh!”
“Stop that!” you huff in faux exasperation, tapping that very kissable-looking spot of forehead lurking through his messy bangs with your index finger.
With an eerie speed, Eddie grabs your finger in his fist. You watch in slow motion as he opens his mouth wide and guides your hand closer and closer, large dark eyes fixed on you, daring and full of mischief.
The routine would be to struggle. To say: no, Eddie, bad Eddie! Maybe shove him a little, maybe curse his ass, have a little wrestle, have him breathing hot against your neck as he tries to pin you down; it’s tempting. So tempting. But you don’t.
You just watch, mesmerized, how your finger slowly disappears inside his mouth, almost two digits deep, watch his lips pull back from his teeth, his jaws close.
He’s gentle, not biting to hurt, just playfully chomping down a few times.
Does his heart pound as fast as yours? Does he know what he’s doing to you?
You want to push in deeper, long for his lips to close around you, to suck you in. 
He is hiding his tongue from you and that won’t do.
“Careful,” you say with a grin, “could be poisonous.”
And, oh, how willingly he takes the bate.
The soft, wet tip finds the pad of your finger, slides back and forth over and over while the corners of his mouth twitch wickedly. The routine would be to say: gross, Eddie, eeew Eddie and to free yourself from his hold and coat his cheek in a thick stripe of saliva in revenge, feel him shiver when you blow cool air against his wet skin. But you don’t.
Because this is perfect.
And maybe this was how your problem solved itself. It has been weeks of wracking your brain on how to figure out if Eddie too craved to deepen your friendship the way you did without ruining everything in case he didn’t, but maybe the solution was simply to stick your finger into his mouth and give him free rein over it.
“Gnophe!” he mumbles and shakes his head. His teeth clamp down just a little bit harder.
“No?” you ask softly, “You feel good?”
Eddie nods and as if wasn’t obscene already, the way he looks up at you through his lashes, big eyes playful and excited, the eagerness of the gesture only amplifies the spectacle in front of you.
“No weird tingling? No? Or hot flashes?” He sets to shake his head but doesn't follow through. Instead, his eyes widen for a split second; if you had blinked at that moment, you’d have missed it. You can feel the sheet under you being pulled taut, you follow the movement to Eddie’s hand still resting on the bed, twisting the fabric in a clenched fist. 
“Because,” you work hard to keep your breath steady, “your cheeks are so very red, Eddie.”
He swallows loudly. The action forces his lips to close around your knuckle, cool and wet, and your mind goes blank.
“Fuck,” you moan softly.
His fingers around your hand twitch, his eyes flutter and then shut. You press your thighs together and your hips into the mattress, mourning the absence of his gaze and before you know what you’re doing, the knuckle of your middle finger nudges his bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. Eddie groans; a long stretched noise fading out into a high-pitched sound you’d almost call whiny. The pressure of his teeth disappears and his tongue darts out, nudging guiding sweeping your middle finger into his mouth as well. Eddie hums, running the tip of his tongue along the groove between them.
“Look at me.”
Beneath you, on the floor, on his knees, with your fingers in his mouth, Eddie opens his eyes and with that, tells you everything you need to know and more than you hoped for.
You push in deeper, just slightly past the second joint and Eddie sucks in his cheeks, trapping you in the wet heat of his mouth.
“You like that?”
The nod is slow, almost heavy. Saliva collects at the corners of his mouth.
Lifting your hips, you pull your knees under your stomach and start to sit up. Eddie sucks you in harder, brows drooping as if in worry you could end this now.
“Shit, you’re adorable when you’re greedy,” you say and come to sit on the edge of the bed. Eddie moves with you, eyes fixed on your face. He swallows again hard when you settle with your knees apart and pressed into his sides. Large hands settle on your thighs, squeezing softly, then running up up up until they find your hips to hold on to.
Your heart races with the new shape your togetherness is forming, with the trust and longing in Eddie’s eyes. Your free hand cups his cheek and he leans into the touch, sighing softly. It’s perfect.
Then the suction is gone, you draw back just slightly and his tongue prods the edge of your palm.
“You want more?”
A moan.
“You sure?”
A moan and a nod and your insides catch fire. You slide a third finger into his mouth and revel in the smooth slide of his tongue between them, the way he’s drooling for and around you. He bites down a few times, mostly soft but testing you with harder chomps in between. Your other hand winds into his hair at the back of his head, testing him with soft scratches, soft pulls and a few firm tugs in between. He likes those, moans and slides his fingertips under the hem of your shirt, digging into your skin, holding on tight; he’s vibrating.
“Look at you,” you breathe and lean in close, pressing a kiss to his hollowed cheek, to his jaw, close to his ear. “You look so much better like this than I could have ever imagined.”
Teeth clamp down, the sting is delicious. Eddie moans, hips twitching between your knees.
“What pretty things you can do with this big beautiful mouth.”
Eddie draws his head back, releasing your fingers all at once and slumps against you. You embrace him, welcome him where he belongs now. His face is pressed to your neck, hands finding your back under your shirt, nails digging in.
“Keep talking, please,” he groans against your skin and licks a dripping stripe along your throat. “Taste so good… please…”
“Fuck,” you drawl out, overwhelmed and buzzing, desperately rolling your hips against his stomach. “Wanna know what else y-you can do with that mouth, can think of something sweet for that clever tongue to taste—“
“H’lly shiii—“ he nearly pushes you over, jerking and twitching in your arms. You feel teeth grazing your neck, then he’s sucking on your skin and it stings he’s sucking so hard. It lasts a little longer until he stills and goes slack in your arms, breathing heavily. You’re dizzy and hot and you want to have him twitch and writhe for you again. You want to see his face when he does.
“Just…” he pants into your shoulder, pulls your collar aside and kisses it. “Just wanted to know if you needed something from the kitchen…”
You laugh and scratch his neck, desperate to feel him shiver again. He does.
“Did… you just—“
“Fucking come into my pants? Yepp… Was that unclear?”
“Just wanted to hear you say it.”
“Minx.” Eddie draws back, cups your face with both hands and kisses you. His lips are wet and swollen from sucking on your fingers and the moan escaping you vibrates hard against his mouth. Eddie’s tongue pushes past your lips to lick into you. He’s sloppy and excited, nibbling on your lips, licking your teeth, smiling and moaning and he’s just perfect.
“That a good time to tell you that I’m in love with you?” he pants, forehead pressed to yours.
“Oh yeah,” you laugh softly.
“Yeah? Cool,” his warm hands run up your sides. “Because I’m ridiculously in love with you, sweetheart.”
“Got a pretty bad case for you as well—“
“Nuh-uh…,” he pulls back to look at you, smirking. “Say it.”
“I’m in love with you, Eddie Munson.”
He wiggles his head and laughs, mouth wide open and baring teeth. The hands on your back slide down and straight to the waistband of your pants. You almost slip off the bed when he hooks his fingers in and pulls.
“Jesus, you’re eager.”
“Greedy,” he says nervously, blushing, but with so much determination. “And you promised me something sweet.”
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