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myfictionaldreams · 8 months

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You're Mine, Sweetheart // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson loved many things but above all else, he loved teasing you, especially when it was so easy to do. All day he had been whispering into your ear and giving lingering touches and now, you were ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, dirty talk, pet names, teasing (LOTS), begging, sir kink, praise kink, panty kink/panty sniffing, discussion of past sex, restraints, polaroids, Eddie has an obsession with your smell and taste :), cum swallowing, blowjob, fingering, rough sex, pussy slapping, possessive behaviour, overstimulation, biting

Words: 6.6k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

It wasn’t a frequent event where you’d have to sleep by yourself, without your boyfriend wrapped around your body giving you warmth and comfort. Tonight unfortunately was one of those nights where you were tossing and turning, trying to find the same comfort that Eddie gave you, even positioning your pillows so that it may feel like him against your back but to no avail as you watched the hours slowly tick by on your alarm clock.

Eddie had a late-night gig at the hideout and your family had wanted to have a games night with even the extended family coming over so it wasn’t something you could sneak your way out of. By the time your family were in bed and Eddie was packing up his equipment, it would have been too late for him to come and pick you up and both decided like sensible adults to just meet the following day which also happened to be the weekly arcade meet up with all of your friends so that was something else to look forward to.

Now however, as the sun began to welcome the day, you were dreading the idea of having to leave your bed and gain the energy to go to the arcade and hang with friends. Eddie, yes you wanted to see, but your social battery was already low and you’d hardly even started. As slumber was just about to consume your body, you were abruptly disturbed by your mom shouting up the stairs, “Darling, the phone!”.

With a pained grunt, you rolled out of bed, stumbling out of your room and down the stairs, not even bothering to open your eyes as you’d grown up in this house and could walk around it without looking. Knowing your mom had left the phone resting on top of the holder, you reached blindly for it and rested it against your face.

“Hello?”, your voice was croaky and thick with sleep, not that you cared though as you held the phone between your ear and shoulder so that you could rub the sleep out of your eyes.

A deep chuckle welcomed you on the other end of the line and immediately your entire body felt rejuvenated, a smile blooming across your lips. Your eyes opened but only to check your parents were anywhere close by as you began to nervously twist and play with the phone cable. “You sound just as tired as I feel, Sweetheart”, Eddie remarked but you could sense his happiness through his tone.

“Hey you”, your sleepy voice suddenly sounded light and flirtatious, “couldn’t sleep either?”.

Your boyfriend released an exacerbated sigh, followed by a soft known where you knew he’d rested his head back against the wall. “Nope, not a single second, missed you too much”.

His casual declaration for missing you, always so open about his feelings, made your heart thump harder in your chest like it was going to beat so hard your ribs would break. There was just something about knowing that he was as attached to you as you were to him.

“I missed you too. How was the gig?”, You bit your lip as he began to talk, it felt like you’d swallowed hundreds of little butterflies with the tumbling nerves floating in your stomach which always seemed to happen when talking to Eddie, he had you hooked beyond a reasonable doubt.

“It was fucking awesome! I nailed the solo, you know, the one I’ve been practising all week? Even got a well-done head nod from a couple of the locals which I thought was pretty neat”.

Your smile spread to a full grin hearing his passion as you praised him for doing so well, “That’s amazing Eddie! I wish I was there to see it, I’m sorry again that I wasn't, you know I would always come to support you if I could”.

“It’s no worries, Sweetheart, I only would have been distracted by you in the crowd like I always am. Especially when you start jumping up and down in those corroded coffin shirts”. The apples of your cheeks warmed as you glanced over your shoulder to double-check check your parents weren’t within earshot. When you and Eddie had begun to date, he gave you a corroded coffin shirt which was just a cheap white shirt with the name scribbled in a black sharpie so you redesigned it slightly and cut the sleeves and around the neckline so that the tops of your cleavage would be exposed.

When you didn’t respond to Eddie, he continued, the pitch of his voice lowering to the way that he usually used when he was whispering in your ear to get you in a certain mood. “Want to know a secret?”

“Yes”, you reply with an only just audibly heard response as your tongue suddenly feels heavy and thick in your mouth as you wait in anticipation for what he has to tell you.

“Do you remember those Polaroids we took a couple of weeks ago? The ones when we skipped school and hid in my van?”

Your cunt instantaneously pulse in sudden arousal at the reminder of those explicitly scandalous pictures from the time he’d convinced you to both skip school after spending most of the day whispering sweet nothings into your ear and getting you so riled up that you were practically begging him to tie you up in the back of his van and fuck you. So of course, he did just that: he had to take a pretty picture to remind him of the sight of you at his mercy.

“Princess?” Eddie asked when you once again didn’t reply.

“Sorry, yeah I remember those”.

“Good. Because it slipped my mind that I’d hidden a few of them in my guitar case so what a happy surprise for me when right before I went on stage, I found the Polaroid beneath my guitar. The one where your arms and legs are tied together with my cock buried into that pretty pussy of yours”.

You had to bite your lip to hold back the moan threatening to burst from you as you also had to lean against the wall due to your knees trembling as slickness gathered between your legs.

Eddie continued, “I had to go on stage with a fucking hard-on - luckily the guitar covered it but, as I looked out and couldn’t see you, all I could think about last night were your perfect tits, bouncing up and down- god I miss them!” he groaned deeply. “Want to know how bad it got? At the end of the gig I had to run to the bathroom and jerk off before I creamed in my pants like a fucking teenager”.

You were absentmindedly rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the ache and need that had settled through your core, your nipples pebbling beneath your shirt and rubbing against the material.

“And then”, Eddie continued, “oh… well I can always tell you what I did when I got back home when I see you later, how does that sound Princess?”

“Good”, you say breathlessly.

“Good, what?” Eddie encouraged.

“Good sir”, your entire body heated now with embarrassment, quickly remembering where you were so you glanced over your shoulders to check that your parents hadn’t suddenly appeared but thankfully they were still in the kitchen and couldn’t hear.

“That’s my girl”, his voice once again spiked arousal straight between your legs and you were sure that if in person you’d be begging for him to touch you, pleasure you until you couldn’t remember your name. “What time should I pick you up?” Eddie asked, casually snapping you out of your erotic thoughts and changing the subject completely.

Shaking your head to try and clear your mind, you contemplated for a moment, “Um, I could be ready in 30 minutes so whenever you’d like, no rush or anything, I don’t think we’re meeting anyone until midday anyway”.

“I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes”, were his last words before he hung up, no doubt in a rush to come and pick you up which then meant you also had to rush but you were almost giddy with excitement.

Washing was a simple task but staring at your wardrobe felt like an endless journey. Do you wear jeans or a skirt? Do you go casual or dressy? Pink or blue? You were able to give up and lie on the bed when a blue, knee-length dress caught your eye. It was simple, floaty thin material that wasn’t too over the top but pleasant enough to meet out with friends. Especially as it matched your Converse and jacket, you were happy and had enough time to apply a light sprinkling of make-up but not too much as Eddie always preferred you more naturally than all dolled up.

Looking at yourself once last time, you moved downstairs to wait for your boyfriend, having 2 minutes to quickly pick up a slice of toast before the tale tell rattle and bang from his van were heard through the open window. Quickly pecking both of your parents’ cheeks, you ran to the door, not stopping with your swift pace until you were colliding with a solid chest.

“Woah, hey Sweetheart”, Eddie laughed, cradling the back of your head and shoulders as you nuzzled into his plain black shirt, breathing in his scents of the recently smoked cigarette, leather jacket and cheap deodorant but under all of that was the lemon from his shampoo.

“Hey!” You couldn’t help but beam up at him, looking like a love-sick puppy but happy to see that he was giving you the same look as he dipped his lips to steal a kiss from your lips. You checked him over unsubtly, from his ripped baggy black jeans to the loosely done ponytail that already had a few curls escaping.

Your boyfriend was doing the same check as you as his chocolate eyes roamed over your outfit, focusing slightly for a second as he licked his lips and then snapping out of whatever he’d just remembered. Leaning over, you thought he was going to kiss you again but instead, he took a hefty bite out of your slice of toast before asking “Ready?”

Nodding your head, Eddie happily helped you into the van to be his passenger princess before climbing in himself. The two of you drove around for a while as you both caught up with each other's time without the other, no mention of Polaroids or whatever it was that Eddie did after returning home.

Even though it has been less than 24 hours since you saw him last, the conversation seemed to flow endlessly as you sat happily next to him, admiring his dimpled grin and exaggerated expressions with his hands as he told you about Gareth locking himself out of his car.

You laughed and casually leaned your head against his shoulder as he began to drive in the direction of the arcade. Eddie's hand gently landed on your covered thigh, stroking his thumb in comforting circles over the thin material. “Do you remember the last time you wore this dress?” He asks casually before kissing your temple whilst keeping his eyes on the road.

Your face set in concentration as you looked down at the dress, like it could spark a memory for you but it didn’t so you shook your head no, expecting him to say something cute like you wore it for your first date or something; he always had a good memory on these sorts of things.

As you were staring at the road, you weren’t able to see the corner of his lips quip up as he excited himself to tell you. His ringed fingers squeezed slightly against your thigh as he said two simple words: movie night.

A heavy breath rushed from you as it all came flooding back. The last time you’d decided to wear this outfit, Eddie had been so riled up by the pretty clothing, that he’d complimented you almost constantly as you both attended Steve’s for a group movie night. However neither you nor Eddie saw the end of the film as the two of you were locked in the bathroom with Eddie's fingers pumping into your hole.

“Remember now?” He asked noting the way your thighs clenched and eyes unfocused slightly.

“Yes I remember”, you mumbled in response, refusing the meet his eye contact for fear that you’d fall right into those beautiful orbs and lose your mind.

“Good, I want you to think about that today as we’re out and about because I know for damn sure that’s exactly what I’m going to be thinking about”.

“Ok”, you paused for a breath and added, “sir” for good measure, absentmindedly reaching for the hand on your lap to play with his chunky silver rings, twisting them around and around. A little habit you’d developed when you were feeling somewhat submissive and needy, finding the touch of his jewellery comforting as it meant he was close. Eddie smirked down as he also noticed this, loving how easy it was for him to get you all worked up and needy for him, In fact, it was something he craved, especially when you clung to him like a koala, he needed you just as much as you needed him so welcomed the grabbing and touches.

The two of you arrived and somehow managed to be late, even though you’d both been driving around for a while. Everyone was already inside the arcade, hardly even noticing your entrance until Eddie shouted, “The fun has arrived!”. Not only did this bring the attention of all of your friends but also the attention of everyone else so you promptly rushed to your favourite machine.

Eddie of course, followed directly behind you, wanting to stay close even though he was itching to play a different machine. Inserting the money, you began to play, full concentration on the tiny screen in front of you but this was swiftly distracted by the warm solid body standing directly behind you. His comforting smell wrapped around you like a warm hug as he rested his chin on your shoulder, hair stroking against your cheek and hands on your waist beneath your jacket. It was nice to just be in each other's company, friends around, casually chatting as they gamed next to you but once they’d left and you were once again just with each other, you became hyper-aware of his presence and casual kisses against your ticklish neck.

“Don’t get distracted now, Sweetheart”, Eddie teased whilst tightening his hold on your waist, pulling himself even more flush against your back. “Just concentrate on the game, not on me”.

Your silence was enough to know that you were doing exactly the opposite of his request and were tongue-tied and unable to think of a witty response. Especially as he gently blew onto your ear, sending a rush down your spine. “Keep your eyes on the screen, otherwise how will you win?”, Eddie’s voice was low and his chest vibrated against your back. Your eyes snapped back to the screen, not even realising that you’d tried to glance over your shoulder up at him. Eddie had returned to his earlier mindset, intent to thoroughly dampen your underwear and muddle your coherent thoughts with arousal and need, especially as he casually remarked, “I know it’s highly inappropriate but I would really love to take you back to my van and lift this dress right now and see what fun I could have”.

Thankfully Eddie's arms remained locked around your body as your knees wobbled and a weak moan burst from your throat but luck was on your side as the game machines were louder so no one could hear.

Eddie heard though as he laughed in your ear, “The thing is, I know you’d let me because you’re my special Princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir”, you say without a care in the world or the fact that you’re in a public space.

“That’s my girl, keep up the good work”, his plump lips smashed into your cheek in a dramatic display of affection and then he was gone, moving away to play his own game, leaving you clutching onto the edges of the machine, trying to not look like you were about to melt into the floor.

Making a split-second decision, you purposefully died on the game and trailed after your boyfriend, finding him shouting at a game that was accepting his change. Eddie didn’t say anything as you slid your arms around his middle and ducked under his arm, he simply kissed your forehead and calmed down enough to play the game around your body.

Another hour came and went and you’d finally deemed it safe enough to venture on your own without feeling too needy to be around Eddie. However, it didn’t last long as he returned over your shoulder.

“Want to know the naughty things that I did when I got home last night?”, he asked referring to the conversation you’d had earlier in the morning.

Your fingers hesitated over the brightly coloured controls so Eddie swiftly braced his arms around you to continue playing on your behalf, holding your fingers onto the controls so you were now both playing. You wanted to know Eddie’s erotic tale of his adventures last night that were sure to drive you crazy but you were unsure of the public setting, knowing that you were already horny for him and any further taunting would drive you crazy. Eddie of course, was going to tell you regardless of whether it was a public space or not and was desperate to see just how crazed he could drive you so he didn’t wait for your response before continuing in short, swift statements.

“I got home, found a pair of your panties that still are hidden in my room… and touched myself whilst sniffing them like a fucking perv.”

You tried to turn and look at him to see if he was being serious or not but his arms tightened, keeping you facing forward.

There was too much to process but also not that much at all. He’s actually pleasured himself whilst sniffing your underwear. Eddie was always very vocal and complimentary of how much he loved your smell and taste and that it drove him crazy but you always assumed that it was all just words in the heat of the moment but clearly it wasn’t as he’d been able to pleasure himself with just your smell alone.

Neither of you said anything about this event, mostly because you were trying to convince your body to calm down and Eddie was silently planning his next way to tease you. Even as the hours passed, and you both mingled with friends, played games and snacked, Eddie would continue to whisper things under his breath to you.

Then there were his hands, brushing over your hands, tickling the skin on your neck, a stark comparison to the heavy touches against your hips, holding and squeezing as he’d casually walk past. Eddie Munson was unequivocally on a mission and you were failing very quickly.

It also seemed that Eddie was falling into his own trap, especially as he briefly glanced up at you from across the room and saw that you were biting your lip whilst looking at him, eyes exploring his body and something inside of him snapped. One minute you were surrounded by the bright colours of the arcade, the musky smell of aged carpet and the varying ages of people. The next moment, you’re greeted with fresh air and only Eddie surrounding you as he drags into the alleyway behind the arcade.

Your body was pushed against the uncomfortable brick wall as Eddie rested his arms on either side of your head, body pressed against your front and face dipped into your neck.

“Tease me some more and I’ll show you my reaction.”

“I…I wasn’t teasing, I mean- I wasn’t doing it on purpose”, you tried to explain with panic evident in your voice, already showing Eddie you were slipping further into your submissive mindset of always trying to make him happy.

“Uh huh”, Eddie continued to taunt, “I can see right through your pretty little lies. If you want to tease me like this, then you wouldn’t mind if I teased you right back, is that what you wanted? To trase me so much that I snap and fuck you in this disgusting alleyway?”

You couldn’t talk, eyes wide and worried and yet also wanting him to do exactly that. Eddie has you exactly where he wants you and almost feels bad for a moment knowing that he had been the one to do all the teasing but that didn’t stop him, especially as he had you so pent up. Lifting his ringed hand, he begins by stroking down your jaw with the tips of his fingers, all the whilst his jean-covered thigh lifts and slots itself between yours until it was flush against your clothed cunt.

You simultaneously whimper and shudder, pressing your hips down on your leg to add more stimulation to where you want to be touched the most.

Eddie’s eyes were dark as he studied you, “Look at you, already a whimpering little mess to my touches. Tell me, Sweetheart, what do you want me to do to you?”

Your brain screamed “everything!” and it seemed your mouth did the same as the next moment Eddie snickered. However, he did the opposite of what you wanted as he pulled his body away from yours and took a step back, not wanting to fuck you in the alleyway. His van was one thing but a dirty street? He’d never treat his princess like that.

Seeing and hearing your disappointment at his warmth moving away, he quickly cupped your cheeks, stroking his thumbs against the apple of your cheeks and pulling you into the most delicate kiss that he could muster. Your whimpers turned into mewls as your body raised onto the tips of your toes to try and be closer and deepen the kiss.

“Want you, Eddie, please can we go?” you asked between kisses.

Eddie contemplated denying you for a moment, knowing that the two of you should probably hang with your friends for a little longer but looking at the need in your pretty eyes and feeling your hands gripping his wrists like you never wanted to let go, he knew it was probably best to head back.

“Alright Sweetheart, don’t worry I’ll look after my needy girl, let’s get you to the van and I’ll tell the others we’re leaving”. He heard you audibly sigh in relief as he grasped your hands, interlocking your fingers together before heading in the direction of the car park however, you only took a few steps before stopping. “What’s wrong?”

You were rubbing your legs together like you needed to pee but it wasn’t this that was the issue. “It’s uncomfortable to walk with wet panties, they’re rubbing on my skin”.

Eddie’s eyes immediately zoned in on the area that you were talking about like he had x-ray vision and could see through your dress. Licking his lips, he suggested, “Well, why don’t you take them off?”

Without even checking if there was anyone at the end of the alleyway, you reached beneath your dress and pulled down your matching shade of blue to the dress underwear, that blissful sigh of relief returning. Eddie to his credit was shocked that you would do something like this within view of anybody walking past and his cock throbbed painfully within his baggy jeans as he saw the sheen of arousal on the material.

Your boyfriend acted on instinct as he quickly grabbed your underwear and rubbed his thumb against the patch of juices, his eyes remaining on you though as he then sucked on his thumb. It was almost pornographic the moan he released, eyes rolling back in his head dramatically. Before you could even squeak or react, Eddie shoved the panties into his leather jacket pocket and grabbed your hand again, moving with more speed towards his van.

Much like this morning, he opened the passenger door for you to climb into, his hands on your waist again to give you a boost up before he shut the door and ran, actually running, into the arcade to say bye to everyone.

Whilst waiting for him, you tried to regain composure, deciding it was much too hot for your jacket and shrugging it off. Eddie returned in record time, slightly out of breath from how fast he’d run in and out of the building as he gave you a cheeky grin, his dimples deepening as he turned on the engine.

“What did you tell them?”, you asked.

“Just that you weren’t feeling very well and I needed to get you home to rest. I think they bought the lie but I also don’t care right now, I just want to be with you”.

You smiled fondly at him, cuddling in close to his side and resting your head on his shoulder as he rested his hand on your thigh in a stronghold which you appreciated, needing it to help ground you to the moment as you played with his rings.

Eddie drove like a madman, even though his body showed that he was at ease, it was clear that he just wanted to be back at his trailer already as he probably broke a couple of laws with how he was driving. The two of you both smiled upon seeing his home and after he parked up, he ran around to your side of the van and helped you down the large step. Thankfully his Uncle Wayne would be at work until the early hours of the morning so you both didn’t need to worry about being interrupted.

Once inside, Eddie let go of his hold on your hips so that he could shrug off his jacket, throwing it onto the couch. “Do you want a beer?” he asked over his shoulder, kicking off his shoes as he walked, something you also did but left them neatly next to the door rather than in a messy pile like Eddies.

“No thank you”, you politely responded, rubbing your arms with the loss of his warmth as your eyes followed his every move. Once more Eddie’s moves were calculated, knowing that you’d quickly follow after him, needing to feel him close, having felt like you’d waited too long to finally be properly alone with him.

Before he could even open the beer, you slid in front of him and pulled his face down to yours, kissing him desperately and breathlessly. The beer clattered onto the kitchen countertop as Eddie laughed against your mouth at how frantic you’d become. He pulled away, glancing down to see that you were trying to rub your body up against his.

“Aw, my princess, are you feeling needy?” he spoke in a patronizing tone which only made you lean in further to prove your point.

“Yes”, you gasp, trying once more to pull his face down to yours but he takes over, taking your wrists in one hand and pushing your body back until you are pressed up against the refrigerator with your hands now held above your head.

“What do you want? Tell me.”.

“I want you, please Sir”.

Eddie clicked his tongue, “Be specific, what do you want from me?”

“Everything I want…everything please, I need you, Eddie”.

The Hellfire leader felt like his chest was going to explode with how hard his heart was beating seeing you like this, he’d expected you to be needy but this desperate? He was ready to walk on flaming coals if you’d asked but he continued his taunting for now, wanting to see if he could get you to say something dirty.

“Aw… Have I turned you into a wet puddle?”

You moan at his words, bucking your hips to show him where you want to be touched. You pulled on your wrists as well, wanting to get out of his hold to play with his hair, kiss his neck, rip his clothes off, just something!

“I think the lack of sleep and horniness has ruined your pretty little submissive head, what do you think?”

You again moan but this time in frustration, face scrunching up as you weren’t getting what you wanted. The hand that wasn’t holding your wrists hovered over your body, moving up the dress until he was grasping your jaw, forcing you to look up into his beautiful puppy eyes that were now hardened and full of dominance. You could feel his chunky rings biting into your skin as his breath kissed the skin of your cheek as he contemplated just what he wanted to do with you first. “I love how responsive you are to me”, Eddie praised, “I mean, look how needy you are after just a few words and touches through the day. You really are mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, only yours Eddie- Sorry, I meant Sir”, you quickly corrected yourself.

Eddie’s gaze softened slightly as he could see your thoughts racing with the need to please him in every way. “It’s ok, you can say my name, I always like it when you say my name”. Gently he kissed the tip of your nose, giving you a moment of care before asking, “I’ll giv eyou the option. Do you want me to touch you or do you want to touch me?”

“I want to touch you”, you say without a second's hesitation.

Eddies grip released as he held his hands away from you, “Then I’m all yours”.

He expected you to jump into his arms, kissing him or pulling on his hair like you always did when you needed him to be closer but this wasn’t what you did. Instead, you dropped to your knees and clawed at his jeans. Surprising even yourself, you managed to undo his zipper, reach into his checkered boxers and find his cock, hard and waiting for you as you pulled it out of the unzipped hole. Not even bothering to undo his belt as you just wanted to have him in your mouth.

“Shit Princess, Jesus Christ!”, Eddie shouted as your lips wrapped around the tip of his throbbing cock where it was wet with precum and red with how long he’d been hard for. You didn’t want to tease him, you just wanted him to find the ultimate pleasure so you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him deeper.

Your boyfriend tipped his head back, biting his knuckle to hold back the shouts that were sure to be loud enough to disturb the neighbours. Inch after inch of his cock slipped down your tongue and to the back of your throat until you were gagging but you kept him there, not pulling out until you were gasping for air.

“Wait, just wait a second”, Eddie gasped after a couple of minutes. Quickly, he undid his belt and button, moving the material of his jeans and boxers down his hips until his cock and balls were waiting proudly for your mouth.

“Thank you”, you say politely to him, wrapping a hand around the base and moving it out of the way so that you could suck on his balls, pulling each one into your mouth before returning to taking his length. Eddie rested a hand against the back of your head eventually helping your movement by pushing you further down, until you were gagging and burning for air, but the throb of his cock was only adding to the pleasure of it all.

“Let me see those eyes”, he softly demanded, and you hadn’t even realised your eyes had closed whilst in the thought of nothing but his cock. Opening them quickly, you made eye contact and were praised with a loving stroke of the back of his hand against your cheek. “Always so good for me, I fucking love you”, Eddie grunted, his hips snapping and balls tightening at the same time and you knew he was on the verge of cumming. His velvet shaft became harder against your tongue as you sucked him more vigorously “Swallow”, was all he demanded and you did just that as he swore, his pink lips dropping open as he came down your throat. His salty goodness was thick as you swallowed every single drop.

“Fuck Sweetheart, you did so well for me”, Eddie praised a moment later after his cock stopped throbbing and began to soften. Pulling out, strings of saliva connected the tip of his cock to your mouth as he chuckled, wiping it away, “Oh you’re drooling everywhere… Come here.”

Eddie helped you to stand but seeing how unsteady and weak your knees were, he lifted you onto the kitchen countertop, spreading your legs and lifting your dress to expose your drenched cunt to him. In a harsh grip, he grabbed a handful of your hair, holding you steady as he spread your juices around with his middle finger, circling your hole before pushing in.

“Look at you and to think, I’ve only just started using my fingers and you’re already shaking”, he taunted as he pushed his finger in and out slowly, watching your body respond with gasps and twitches. As he added a second finger, he praised, “I love the way you look with my fingers inside of you”.

Your hips bucked at his words as you tried to match his movements, especially as he began to curl his fingers to stroke against your pleasurable spot. However, then you said something that he wasn’t expecting, “Please don’t be gentle with me”.

Eddie didn’t need telling twice as he pulled out and gave your pussy a sharp slap, directly over your neglected clit. He rubbed away with a sting before doing it again and again, watching as you cried out and tried to lean into the touch and only did he stop when your pussy was drenched, puffy and your clit was overstimulated. “Did you like that Princess? Do you like it when I’m rough with you?”

“Yes, thank you sir!”, you shouted, whilst also leaning into the hand still holding your hair.

“So desperate today, aren’t you Sweetheart. Come on let's get this off of you”, as he spoke, he released his hold but only to grip the dress and lift it up and over your head. Next, he helped you down from sitting on the side but only so that he could turn you around and bend you over it instead as he also undid your bra and discarded that to the floor. The dress you’d worn was mde of a stretchy, flimsy material so he was easily able to use it to tie it around your wrists, getting the restrained behind your back.

“Let’s go”, he instructs, holding onto the material and using it to move you around, manhandling you to walk from the kitchen and into his bedroom, helping you to be face first on his mattress, careful to not hurt your neck as your arms were still restrained and arse perked into the air for him.

Eddie began to remove his clothes as you wiggled your hips invitingly and your boyfriend admired the perfect view in front of him before kneeling between your legs, hands massaging the flesh of your hips.

“Say you’re mine”, he demanded in a low, rough voice.

“I’m yours”.

“Tell me again”, he asked as he looked from your face to your cunt.

“I’m yours, Eddie”.

Hearing his name again, he couldn’t wait any longer as he carefully pushed the tip of his now hard cock into your hole. You were already so sensitive, even though you hadn’t cum yet, with all of the arousal pulsing through you, it felt like you’d already orgasmed a handful of times and with Eddie’s recent orgasm, he was just as sensitive. He moved slowly, even though you wanted it rough, he didn’t want to actually hurt you, knowing exactly what your limis were so he made sure to give you time to stretch and get used to his size.

However, once your moans were echoing around the room and you were trying to push yourself back on his cock, he released the restraint that he was holding onto. With his hands holding onto your hips, Eddie began to fuck you relentlessly, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, his bals smacking into your clit and hips pushing your face into the bed.

Eventually your knees lose any strength that was holding your body up and you collapsed forward onto the bed. Eddie didn’t stop though, especially when he could hear how good you were feeling so he moved one of your legs up, giving him more room and he body crowded over your back as he bites your shoulder.

“Wanna cum Eddie, your words were muffled against the bed but he could already feel how close you were from how tight your pussy was clenching.

“You can cum for me, you’re doing so well”, he praised, licking over the spot he’d just bitten.

However, you groaned in frustration rather than pleasure as you moaned, “But I wanna cum with you Eddie, please cum in my pussy”.

“Oh Princess, all you had to do was ask”.

Eddie fucked you harder, his mouth sloppily kissing your cheek as you tried to hold back your orgasm for as long as possible but it was getting too much, everything was too overwhelming and eventually you couldn’t keep it back anymore.

You came hard and with a high-pitched scream, your pussy clenching so tightly around Eddie that he too found his release, orgasming together, both sensitive and bodies rocking together through the pulses of pleasure.

He stayed inside of you for a moment, trying to catch his breath and it was only when he could feel your restrained fingers wiggling against his abdomen did he push his weight up on his arms to kiss delicately across your bare shoulder. “That tickles”, he mumbled, causing you to giggle tiredly.

Carefully, he knelt back, undoing your bound wrists and massaging the areas to get them to relax at your side. “I'm going to pull out, ok?”

You nod but still hiss at the discomfort of your walls being stimulated whilst being so sensitive and then there was the gush of his cum and your juices that began to pour out and down your clit. “My favourite sight”, he admires, stroking your arse cheek as you smiled over your shoulder before closing your eyes and taking a moment to relax.

Eddie clambers off of the bed, turning on his stereo to the latest heavy metal album and then returningto caefully wipe way between your legs before manhandling your to lie across his chest. There the two of you just lay, enjoying the post-sex high.

Eventually, Eddie sparked up a cigarette, careful to try and blow the smoke away from you but the smell of it had become a comfort for you as you nuzzled further into his naked chest, feeling sleep nearly taking over.

A delicate kiss to the tip of your nose however had you coming back to the moment and opening your eyes, “Hey, don’t go to sleep for me just yet, I’m not quite done with you. We’re just having a little break but I still need to taste you Sweetheart”.

Your body warmed and you were now wide awake with the adrenaline pulsing through you. Eddie took another long suck of smoke, blowing it into the air and you never realised just how much the sight would turn you on. It was going to be a very long, sleepless night.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #dom eddie munson #stranger things smut #eddie munson one shot #mine*#stranger things one shot

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ncteez · 1 year

Text

the bore next door (j.ww)

Jeon Wonwoo is not dull, nor is he the clean and polite neighbor that your mother assumed he was when she set you up on this awful date.

or the one where wonwoo takes you home on the first date and renders you unable to walk, hoping to god that you don’t expose him to your parents.

ao3 | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do.

WORDCOUNT― 8.8k

PAIRING― wonwoo x afab reader

CONTENT― strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, reader is a teacher but this is not a school setting, mocking and making fun, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky wonwoo, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed

WARNINGS― small mention of other teachers cheating on their spouses (very tiny mention), the resistance of pressure to fall in love/have children

NOTE― I repurposed an old wip for this because putting this mf in the main role hit harder than it should have. that being said, don’t expect me to write men often like this, i just thought it would be neat to make him take control. this is not proof read.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― dom(ish) wonwoo, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy), face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting, dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, wonwoo tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.

23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th street to 35th street, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?

In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but never truly settling on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable. You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday.

Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?

Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not be you. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.

23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, and he even seems to have a dog that he walks at the same time three times a day.

She doesn’t mention what he looks like, and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he is tall, handsome, and has dark hair.

For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas.

What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street. A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet their daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.

“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”

You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.

“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate.

“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely was. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.

The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.

“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”

“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Wonwoo, by the way.”

You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.

“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Wonwoo says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.”

Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single. Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Wonwoo right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something.

“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”

“Oh?” Wonwoo quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?”

You shrug. “Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”

“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”

“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over.

Wonwoo watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.

“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”

You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.

“Okay then, Wonwoo—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”

In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time.

“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do.

Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Wonwoo must make good money.

“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort.

“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade English teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way.

Wonwoo smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite.

“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.

“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Wonwoo, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.

He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Wonwoo doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.

“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”

Ah. He’s one of those guys.

“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck.

“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”

“God, you are such a bore.”

Wonwoo realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.

“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you.

“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”

Wonwoo looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters. “Why does that matter?”

“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?”

He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him.

“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.”

He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before. It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.

“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?”

“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head.

“Admitting I’m interested in you, I guess?” He says it with so much confidence that you barely notice the ‘I guess’ at the end of his sentence. It surprises you a little bit, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Wonwoo..

“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.”

Wonwoo prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.

“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just pretend this is a tinder date or something?”

You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises.

“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read.

“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”

Wonwoo pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.

“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.

It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer.

“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”

He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to just drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”

“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”

Wonwoo kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”

“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”

Wonwoo waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”

“Wonwoo—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”

His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.”

“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.”

Offense taken.

And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle.

“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”

“No, no,” Wonwoo assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.”

He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupid expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.

When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Wonwoo’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date.

You opt to park two houses away. You already know who the person is who lives in this house and surely they’d only raise a brow at your car being there. You shoot them a text just in case though, because god forbid if they mention it to your parents.

“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely fucking boring.

“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.

“Very boring, very you.”

Wonwoo sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s still smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.

“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”

You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.

“I am a comfortable mess, Wonwoo, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”

He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.

“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”

Oh, okay.

“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”

Wonwoo watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more and more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.

“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”

You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer.

“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s entering into his horny brain, confidence bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you.

“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.”

You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about.

“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps.

“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.”

You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.

He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, and even worse, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something. It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him.

“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.”

You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second.

“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you.

“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.

Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie.

“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit.

You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts.

“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”

You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything.

Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.

“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over.

“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him.

You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it.

“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.

Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house.

When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.

“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other on a fire before this very instant.

You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now.

Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy, and don’t let you down this time around.

Wonwoo watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight.

“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”

You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.

So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own.

He hums out at the feeling of your mouth, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag.

Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt.

“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?”

The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story.

He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him.

Wonwoo snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him.

“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “you can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”

That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you?

Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night.

You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep. Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay.

This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.

“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did.

You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more and more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.

Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him.

“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth.

You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all right.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.

Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly.

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go, “do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”

He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?”

You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.

“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”

He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.

His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face.

“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me babe.”

You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your core, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman.

Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked.

You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you.

This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside of your walls to truly taste you.

God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip down your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.

And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own.

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.

You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you’re a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex.

When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying.

“Open up,” he says, licking against your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”

You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything.

“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your parents hear you get fucked.”

Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.

“Wonwoo,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”

He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot.

“Come on my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked.

He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–

You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly.

“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “think you can come around me twice tonight?”

You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against.

Fuck, he can feel your pussy gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.

“That’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.

You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit.

“Let it go,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”

Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head.

Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor.

“Can you stand?” He asks with a chuckle, but his face is slightly amazed.

This is the first time Wonwoo has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image.

“Come on,” he says, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and guiding you to his couch. “Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length.

Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.

He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand.

“Can you ride me?” he genuinely asks this time, still seeing the shine against your legs from your recent orgasm, he continues to soothe the shaking in them though, hoping to god you’ll do the same thing on his cock.

You nod, knowing that once you’re seated, you have both his broad chest and the back of the couch to keep you steady. And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch.

He can feel you clench, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly.

“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”

You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man.

He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type.

“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.

“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone.

He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your pussy hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass and guiding you even closer to his chest.

You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise.

His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spreads you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. You bounce a bit each time, and you can also feel his lips graze against your nipple each time he does it.

You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now.

You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again.

He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace.

“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk.

You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to.

Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.

The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.

Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.

“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more.

You could have sworn he said he was going to make you come twice, now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm.

Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.

You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.

You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.

“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”

She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you already.

“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”

His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you.

“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”

Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you.

“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.

“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.

“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and maybe it wasn’t food…

“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”

Wonwoo looks at you curiously, and you look back at him.

“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”

She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen.

It’s silent between you and Wonwoo for a few moments before he speaks up.

“I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow.

“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”

You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused.

“I can’t imagine anyone would want to put up with you either,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “Lucky for you, I already put up with you.”

#wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo x reader

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pedroshotwifey · 3 months

Text

To the Flame Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Chapter tags/warnings: family fighting, fluff, hurt/comfort, manipulation, tiny lil plot twist kinda, wifey struggling to keep y'all interested

Chapter summary: You really don't know what you would do without Javi. (please remember I'm shit at summaries)

A/N: I know; what the fuck is going on? This is supposed to be dark? Well don't worry, dear friend, we're getting there! Please just bear with me, I know I'm probably testing some patience right now, but I swear to you that it will be worth it soon. Also, if this sounds rushed, I'm so sorry, but I know you would all rather get to the good shit sooner than later. Thank you, loves!

***

“Can you come pick me up?”

You hate the way your voice shakes in tandem with your trembling body, it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. Though you might hate even more the fact that you’re having to bother Javi with something like this.

You haven’t even thought it out yet—your brain is much too hazy for you to even try right now. Where will you go after he picks you up? You can’t ask him if you can stay at his place, you wouldn’t want to be any more of a problem than you already are.

“Yes, sweetheart, of course. Is everything okay?”

The sincerity in Javi’s voice makes you want to melt. Only this man would be so kind and caring as to go out of his way for you without an explanation. He must have just gotten home, too, because you’ve only been in your house for about fifteen minutes.

You know he must hear the sniffle from your end of the phone, because he immediately sounds more concerned than anything.

“Sweetheart?”

Taking in a gulp of air, you glance at your dad who is still watching you with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a deep scowl on his face. You let your gaze flicker back down the tile floor, not wanting to see his obvious disgust for any longer than necessary.

“Not really,” you admit, biting your lip to keep it together. “I’ll tell you when you get here. I h-have some stuff to take too.”

You hear him mutter a curse as you blink and another tear races down your wet cheeks.

“Okay, I’ll be there soon, honey. Just hang on a minute,” he says.

He sounds extremely worried, and you can tell he would rather stay on the phone with you to make sure you're safe, but he has to let you go so he can get to you in person. He hangs up and you set the receiver down.

“I-I have a friend coming to get me,” you tell your father, much quieter than you would have liked to be.

“Go ahead and get your shit out of here,” he says as he starts to walk back into the kitchen, not bothered enough to spare you more of his time. Your mom has already busied herself with the dishes, but you swear you see tears cradling her face.

Your stomach drops for what has to be a hundredth time today, but you have nothing better to do, so you drag yourself back to the pile of your stuff. You want nothing more than to disappear. Just to sink into a hole and curl up some place nobody can find you. You can’t believe you could be so selfish and stupid. But can they really blame you for doing something for yourself for once?

Taking a deep breath and coming to a stop in front of your stuff, you pick up the box sitting on top. It’s not a large pile; a lot of your possessions got left at your old apartment when you high-tailed it out of there, but you’ve never been one to keep a lot of stuff anyway.

You only have to take a couple trips to have all of your things in a neat stack near the driveway. You’re just balancing your last suitcase when you hear a small voice from behind you calling your name.

You spin around on your heel to see your sister leaning on one of the porch columns. She’s clearly been crying, and it sends a pang of regret through your body. One look is all it takes for her to be hurdling herself your way and engulfing you in a hug.

Your arms wrap around her as you allow yourself to sob, feeling her own sadness shake the both of you as she rests her chin on your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you manage to choke out. Her hand comes to stroke your hair as she shakes her head lightly in disapproval.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her confession only brings another round of tears to your eyes.

“I promise to call you every day,” you sniffle into her hair.

She nods again, silently agreeing.

“As long as mom and dad will let me,” she says.

You know Javi’s going to be here any minute now, and you don’t want to get her in trouble, so you pull away with as much of a smile as you can muster.

“I’ll be okay,” you tell her with a squeeze to her shoulders. The look on her face absolutely breaks you all over again. She nods solemnly and pulls you in for one more good hug as you exchange ‘I love you’s, and then turns back to the house before she finds herself unable to let you go.

It’s while she’s walking back inside that you hear the sound of Javi’s truck coming up your gravel drive. He hops out and is at your side in less than ten seconds.

“Hermosa,” he greets you frantically, gently grabbing your cheeks with both hands to tilt your head and examine you for injuries. His shoulders sag with relief when he sees none. The action makes your stomach flip, and you really wish it would stop doing that.

He looks behind you to eye your stuff.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

You nod and follow him to start moving your things again. Neither of you talk as you load everything you own into the bed of his truck and strap it down, the brief looks you cast at each other have enough meaning for you to have had a full conversation anyway.

Once everything’s packed, you take one last look at your house, a wave of hurt washing over you. There’s so many memories here. Sure, not all of them were great, but it’s your entire childhood. You’re leaving your entire childhood, and that sentiment just isn’t settling with you.

Javi has to pull you out of your trance by carefully taking your hand in his and motioning that it’s time to go. The look on his face isn’t quite of pity, but more of discern. You feel seen and heard for one of the first times in your life, and that thought doesn’t escape you.

You follow after him, and he opens the passenger door for you before helping you in like the gentleman he is. You flash him as much of a smile as you can muster as you help lift yourself up. He shuts the door behind you, gets in on his side, and you’re backing down the drive before you can even process the fact that you’re really leaving.

Javi asks you to tell him what happened after a couple minutes of letting you calm down, and you explain it all. You break down in the middle of the explanation, but he’s patient, and tells you to take all the time you need. It doesn’t take long for you to have everything out, but you feel like you’ve been wrung dry after the fact.

It hurts even more to say everything out loud, to admit that your parents hate you because you wanted happiness. Javi consoles you, wrapping an arm around you when you slide over to lean into his side on the bench seat.

He lets you get all your tears out, shushing you and planting gentle kisses on your head as you wrack sobs into his shoulder. It’s painful, but once you’ve cried all the tears you could, there’s a sense of lightness that consumes you. You try not to focus on the lingering pain in your chest as you look out the window.

The morning looks just as beautiful as it had earlier, but the sight makes your stomach churn this time. You’d been so stupid and unassuming on the ride home. The gentle glow now signifies nothing more than ignorance and an unreadable future. You can’t believe it was just over an hour ago that it had meant something else entirely.

“Sweetheart,” Javi breaks the temporary silence.

You look at him through your wet lashes, your head still propped on his shoulder because you don’t think you can hold it up without support right now.

“I’m going to take you to my place, but I want to ask you something first.”

You pick your head up now, both because of the relief from hearing him say that, and also from the hint of something in Javi’s voice that sounds a little like nervousness.

“Thank you, Javi,” you tell him as sincerely as you can. You would literally have nowhere to go without him. “What do you want to ask?”

He looks at you, and you swear you see his eyes light up the tiniest bit. He must see the gratitude written on your face.

“You know I’d do anything to make sure you’re safe, right?”

His question takes you aback. Of course you do, how could he even ask that? He’s been nothing but kind to you and has only ever had the best intentions.

“Yes, Javi, of course,” you say, turning to him fully to emphasize your truth. You need him to know how much you trust him, how much you appreciate the care and attention he provides you with.

He turns back to the road, but you catch the way one corner of his mouth tugs up ever so slightly. At least he seems to know you’re sincere.

“Well, I think there’s something we need to do to make sure you’ll stay that way.”

You keep quiet. Your interest is piqued but you stay silent for him to continue.

“I think that your parents shouldn’t be able to get to you anymore. Even though they kicked you out, we don’t know if they’re done bothering you.”

Your brows furrow.

“I don’t know, I really don’t think they would have any reason to come after me,” you say, perplexed as to why he would think such a thing. Sure, your parents are kind of assholes, but they’re not insane. They wanted you gone, and you’re gone. That’s that.

You miss the way Javi’s jaw ticks as you turn back to lean against your seat.

“I know, honey, but it’s always best to play it on the safe side.”

You try to think about what he’s telling you, but it still doesn’t sound like they would be a threat.

“Especially if you get a job now that you’re not working for them anymore. What if they find out where you applied or where you’re working, and try to get you fired or declined? They could also tell people about what happened, and this town’s not going to take kindly to that.”

That, on the other hand, sounds a bit more realistic. You wouldn’t exactly put something like that past them.

“And you need to get your address and home number changed, which is going to be a pain in the ass, and will probably require some interaction with them.”

You bite your lip. He has a point, but you still have no idea where he’s going with this. He glances back over at you and sees the contemplative look on your face, his features softening.

“I know it’s a lot, sweetheart, but I’m just trying to look out for you.”

You look at him, catching his gaze. His eyes brows are set in a worried place, concern lacing his features. It makes your heart melt a little bit, to know this man cares so deeply for you.

“I know, and I really appreciate it, but there’s not much I can do about it,” you tell him. He bows his head slightly.

“Actually,” he starts. “I was thinking that I might have the solution. It would make me feel better to know you’re safe as well, cariño.”

His hand grabs tighter to yours as you worry your lip. You have this funny feeling in your stomach that you can’t decipher.

“What’s that?”

“You can marry me.”

If you had been driving, the truck would have jolted to a stop. All the breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare at the man who was able to say something like that so casually. Marry you? You’ve only known him for a couple of months.

“W-what?” you squeak out with the little bit of breath you have left. He shrugs lightly, as if those words didn’t have any kind of an impact on him.

“That way, you can change your name, number, and address without any hassle. You’ll be able to hide your identity for the most part, and you won’t have to worry about the logistics of that other stuff.”

You just stare at him, your jaw open slightly.

“I can keep you safe that way. Nobody will mess with you if they know you’re mine.”

You feel something tug at your chest when he says that. Maybe officially being his won’t be so bad. You know you’re fast on the track of falling completely for this man anyway.

You close your mouth to swallow, thinking over your options with a racing heart. It really does make sense to do that, but you can’t see it happening.

“I don’t know, Javi…” you trail off, a little lightheaded from the suggestion.

Javi sighs and checks the rearview mirror before pulling to the side of the road.

“What are you doing?”

He ignores your question and instead reaches a hand in front of you to open the passenger glove box. He moves a couple of papers out of the way, and out comes a small, velvet box. Your breath seizes in your throat.

Javi turns to you, looking at you with the saddest, most pleading eyes you’ve ever seen. There’s a gleam to them, showcasing both the hope for a yes, and the nervousness of you saying no.

“I knew from the first date, hermosa, that I was going to have you some day,” he starts. Your eyes get misty all over again. This isn’t just him offering you a solution. He wants you, and you honestly can’t even comprehend why a man like him would. He opens the box in his hand, and you gasp. The most beautiful ring you’ve ever laid eyes on lays snug in the small pillow inside of it.

“I want to be the one to take care of you, to hold you, and to love you, for the rest of your life. Please be my wife,” his voice cracks on that last sentence, and you lose it.

You throw your arms around him, a couple of tears escaping as you do so.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” you choke. You’re filled with a warmth that almost completely replaces the hurt that had consumed you. He really, really wants you, and you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to feeling so special.

Javi lets out a shaky laugh filled with relief as he hugs you back and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“You know I would do anything for you, right?”

“I do,” you nod at him with watery eyes. “Thank you, Javi.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. You’re about to make me the happiest man alive.”

***

Thank you for reading!! I love you all!!

Tag list: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @movievillainess721 @callachloe @missladym1981 @casa-boiardi

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #fluff #javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fluff #javier pena narcos #javier pena fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #dark fic #dark javier pena #dark pedro pascal #manipulation

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josiesullysblog · 1 year

Text

Stuck Like Glue

~AGED UP Neteyam x Na’vi Reader

~Fluff

~Proofread?-no

~Summary-You and Neteyam are sworn mates.

***

“Remember [Y/n], you must be nice,” your mother patted your neat braids. You were only seven so you hadn't understood why your family had to go meet with another tribe. You didn't understand that you were off to meet you eventually mate. You smiled at your mom as your dad picked you up, “our little [Y/n] isn't gonna let us down!” you giggled as he tickled you. Your mother laughed and grabbed you before getting on her Ikran.

You held your mother's hand as you and your family made your way through the crowd. Your father greets a man who you notice a family behind him. You hide behind your mother, not wanting them to see you. “This is Jake and Neytiri,” she gently pushed you to see. You made eye contact with her, “hello [Y/n], this is my son Neteyam,” she grabbed a boy who smiled big at you. You gave a small smile, “honey why don't you go play with them,” your mother said as a younger girl grabbed your hand.

“I’m Kiri and this is Lo’ak!” as she brought you toward a small lake. You nodded as the boy you met earlier looked at you, “is there something wrong?” you questioned as he came closer, “you're short,” he laughed as your eyed him up and down. “Like your any bigger,” without your parents present your personality changed shocking the three children.

“Let's go this way,” you said causing Lo’ak to cheer, “yea!” you smiled as you started walking off, “Lo’ak you know we can't go that way! Dad and mom will get mad,” you sighed loudly looking at the boy, “you always do what daddy says?” your teasing getting to the boy, “no!” he attempted to save himself but Kiri and Lo’ak laughed, “that's all you do!” Your smile became bigger, “I bet he’s daddy’s little boy,” you stuck your tongue out at him. Neteyam crossed his arms as your laugh rang through the forest, “fine let's go,” he said pushing past you.

You all found a flower meadow and you decided to play a game of tag, “tag your it!” you tapped Neteyam and started running. You turned to look back to notice the boy hadn't moved a bit, “hello, I tagged you now you have to chase me,” you said but the boy only tilted his head, “I don’t get your game.” You then proceeded to explain tag to the three children. “Tag your it!” you hit Neteyam again before running off. This time he chases you causing giggles to fall out of your mouth. Kiri and Lo’ak ran around themselves, Kiri gathering flowers to give to her mother later.

It became dark and eventually, you all sat down looking at the stars. “Our dad came from a star,” Neteyam said causing your eyes to widen, “that's cool!” you rubbed your eyes. Kiri had already fallen asleep and tiredness was hitting you. “[Y/n]!” you heard your name being called. Your mother came out and you immediately walked over to her, begging to be picked up. “Looks like someone is tired,” your father said as you fought to keep your eyes open.

Neytiri picked up Kiri as Jake looked at Neteyam, “why’d you guys go so out? What I’ve told you?” he scolded the older boy. Neteyam's eyes were on you though, even though he was 7, he saw the small smile you held when your family left as he was getting yelled at. He couldn't believe you had the audacity, to smile at him as he was being scolded.

“Looks like someone has a crush,” Neytiri said catching Neteyam’s stare. Jake stopped talking and let out a laugh, causing Neteyam to cover his face, “I don't like her!” the family walked back together but Neteyam held a mad face. You were nothing but bossy to him and got him in trouble. He’d never like you.

It has been years since you last saw the boy. From time to time, you’d see Jake or Neytiri since they’d have business with your parents, but besides that, it was almost like you never met him. You were twenty years old now, completely different from your younger self.

So, it was not a surprise when you were nervous to meet him again. I mean what if he hated you? You couldn't remember how your last interaction went, causing you to overthink. “It will all be alright,” your mother said patting your head to calm you.

Her words did not calm you at all. But you remembered there was a nearby place that you visited all those years ago. “I think I’m gonna take a quick walk,” you said smiling and walking away.

You sat down looking at the pretty flowers. You missed when life wasn't so complicated, and you could run around. Now, you had a whole tribe to think of. You had to mate, have children, and be amazing or everything your family has worked so hard on was for nothing. Your mind got lost in your thoughts you hadn't noticed someone staring at you.

Neteyam had dreaded this day. It's kind of silly, but he still remembers how you got him in trouble. He still holds it over your head as well. He rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time, “why are we doing this again?” he questioned. Neytiri sighed, “son, this unity between you and [Y/n] is connecting two different tribes. This will be an amazing asset, plus I remember how you looked at her,” she laughed as she was joined by Kiri. “I don’t like her!” Neteyam said standing up quickly. “I understand it's good for the tribe, but what about what I want? I want to be able to pick someone I love as my mate, not some girl I’ve met one time!”

Neytiri’s eyes softened, “teyem,” the boy sighed before heading to walk out of the tent, “it’s whatever.” He walked past everyone before he noticed the new Ikrans. He sighed, “Great they are already here,” he picked his feet off, heading somewhere to rest. His eyes fell on the flower meadow he and his mother visited often. Memories of you flooded his mind, making him rub his face. He kept walking till he noticed a body in the flowers.

You started picking up flowers and making a flower crown. Your hands worked hard on it when you noticed a shadow behind you. You turned quickly before being hit with a boy's face. He smiled and waved awkwardly at you, “is there something I can help you with?” you said looking him up and down. Although your words came out with attitude, he felt his palms start to get sweaty. His heart beat faster, as your gaze caused a small blush to appear. “I didn't mean to disturb you, I just wanted to get away for a bit,” your gaze softened a little before nodding, “I understand, you can sit if you want.” You picked the flower crown back up and continued working on it.

“What's that?” he said sitting by you, but not too close in fear of you walking away. “It's called a flower crown,” you said but never looked at him, “I only make them in my free time, but I never have free time.” you smiled to yourself. “Same, I’m training to become a hunter,” your head immediately picked up, “a hunter? How far along are you?” you said unconsciously scooting closer, Neteyam’s breath hitching, “in the next few weeks, I’ll be able to get my own bow from the home tree,” your smile grew bigger and Neteyam forced himself to look away in fear of his attraction being caught. “So, you're far enough to teach me?” you searched for his eyes, becoming a hunter has been a dream of yours for years. With all your other duties becoming a hunter was just a dream you’d never reached, till now.

“Why don’t you have an elder teach you?” you shook your head immediately, “their ways of teaching are old, you would be able to teach me quickly.” Neteyam thought about it, technically he was not supposed to be even talking with you. He was sworn to someone else, but if he helped you he’d be making his own decisions. Such a small way to say, “I’m my own person,” he looked back up at you smiling and nodding.

You let out a small squeal, “thank you so much! We’d have to do it at night, so my parents can't stop us!” at the mention of your parents you shot up, “I’ve been out for too long, but let's meet here ten minutes after eclipse every night.” Neteyam stood up laughing at you, “that's alright with me!”

The flower crown you held in your hand, found its way to his head. Neteyam smiled at you causing you to smile back. “See you,” you started walking off before Neteyam yelled, “wait I didn't catch your name,” you stopped walking facing him, and said, “It’s [Y/n]!” You ran off before he could say his.

The blush on his face intensified, and he felt like his heart was in his stomach. No. Freaking. Way.

***

Hey guys! Miss you all, I’ve been so busy lately I only have time to write at the end of the day. Currently sleepy but hopefully you all enjoy this story.

#avatar way of water #neteyam #avatar #avatar loak #jake sully #avatar neytiri #neteyam x y/n #avatar tuk #neytiri #loak x reader

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

Text

Needy

Part 2 to Give In

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut (f receiving oral), broken leg, pain, depression, anxiety, longing, needy joel, reunion of sorts, cringe nickname from maria, malnutrition, descriptions of not eating and weight loss and physical changes due to that, brief grief

a/n hi i wrote smut. god help me, i hated writing it. i hope you guys like it, i tried to make it somewhat good. this takes place after the first game, or when the series ends. spoilers definitely. the middle where you don’t see ellie and joel for the four years there just living in jackson, right when joel comes back from saving ellie.

summary Y/N gets invited to Jackson by her Aunt Maria

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read time: 12 mins 25 seconds

After a few days you realized Joel wasn’t coming back. The sad realization sink in and really took its toll on you. FEDRA officers came to make sure you weren’t dead in your apartment, and with that made you go back to work.

Same day, over and over again once again. Take care of the babies in the QZ. Watch people get hung in the square. Eat the same, boring, disgusting meal FEDRA gave to you. Live in the empty memories that lingered all over town.

Tess was gone too. You figured they were both dead in a ditch or moved on to something better and bigger than this damn QZ. Part of you wondered if Joel just wanted an out; if he was sick of having you as a responsibility and left because of you. And it ate you alive.

It had been a month. You were still trying to reach your Aunt over the radio, just as Joel had been trying to reach his brother. It’s something the two of you bonded over the last few weeks he was here. Your Aunt Maria was located somewhere out west. You weren’t really sure where, but you knew she was still alive. You felt her spark. Ever since your mom and your uncle died when you were small, she had watched you until she was promised a ‘better life’ somewhere in… Wyoming? Montana? Idaho? You weren’t sure. She left you in the QZ because she thought it would be better for your safety. You were a preteen at the time, and for what it was worth it was probably a better idea than to track across country.

Sitting, scrolling through channels you hopelessly looked for Maria’s signal. She always used the lower frequencies, usually this specific one you were listening to. Just as you were about to click the machine off, you heard it.

“Lovebug?”

You gasped and cheered. Lovebug is what she called you when you were younger, a nickname of sorts.

“Auntie?” you called back, hoping this wasn’t one of your delusions seeping back in. “I’m here!” she called. You could hear a group of people cheering in the back.

She gave you a quick set of coordinates and cut off communication. It was brief and that hurt, but life finally had its purpose back. No more Joel, no more overthinking, no more hurting from how he left you.

You basically crawled towards the gate of Jackson. Unsure if this was even the right place, you hoped your topography skills were as good as you thought they were. From stealing four cars, foraging for gas (which there was barely any of) and walking over three thousand miles, you prayed this place was anything close to heaven. You had avoided getting bitten or scratched, but killing countless infected on the way. At least you would get to see your Aunt one last time.

The people had their guns pointed at you as you expected. “P-please.” you pleaded with your hands up. You were sure to be almost unrecognizable. Hair was greasy and matted, you had lost a significant amount of weight, and your clothes were tattered. Even in the apocalypse you liked to stay neat, but at this point in your journey you had stopped caring.

“Maria—she’s my a-aunt.”

“I’m going to need Maria at the east gate along with a medic. Stat.” a person called through the radio. The doors opened slightly.

“Y/N?” you heard your Aunt cry. You raised your head enough to see her run towards you. She held you in her arms and cried. The medics were weary behind her, letting this sweet family reunion continue.

You hugged her and tried to hold on to her shoulders the best you could. There was something different. Blinking a few times to get the icicles out of your eyelashes that had formed you realized she was pregnant.

“Y-your pregnant?” you asked. She shook her head and smiled. “I have a lot to explain. I’ll come with you to med.”

They had a makeshift stretcher with a thick piece of fabric held together by two refined pieces of wood. A blanket was placed over you as they carried you across this town. From what you could see, you were in heaven. Dead, no longer here. This whole thing was a mirage.

“It’s real, I promise you honey.” Maria assured you. “H-how?”

“I can explain once your stable. You’ve been out in the cold for too long.”

You closed your eyes, praying it wasn’t for the last time.

Awake. Is what you were. You weren’t sure where, or how, but you were awake. It was dark outside. The little log cabin you were in had a curtain hanging to divide you from other stations and medical supplies. You tried to move.

Your leg was stiff. A large groan escaped from you as you tried to move it.

“No,” you heard from your side. A man sat there. He had dark hair that was longer than the usual cut. His thick black mustache sat upon his lip. He had a tanned skin tone and from what you heard, a thick southern accent that reminded you of Joel. What was a southerner doing so far North?

“Try not to move it. You got a small fracture. Nothing serious, but you will be in the boot for a few weeks.”

His eyes darted to the medical walking boot that sat against the wall. “Who are you? Where is Maria?”

He chuckled at your enthusiasm. “I’m Tommy, Maria’s husband.”

It started to click. “Oh,”

Didn’t Joel mention his brothers name was Tommy? Or was it Timmy. You couldn’t remember. A southerner out west, you doubted it was the brother Joel was looking for. God, why are you still thinking about him? Even now, after you nearly died crossing the country? Sneaking out of the QZ? You were ashamed that your first thought after a brush with death was Joel Miller.

“I let her get some rest, she was here all day. It’s a lot of stress you know…”

Tommy was baiting to see if you knew. “For the baby.” you confirmed.

He shook his head. “Crazy, isn’t it?” he said.

Tommy explained Jackson. How it was functional, safe, and everyone was happy. Maria was right, this was heaven. He explained that there wasn’t any availability in Jackson at the moment, but Maria insisted of inviting you after she found out she was pregnant. Tommy explained something about jealousy and families, but it didn’t make sense to you. Apparently he had just gotten some family back, and Maria wanted hers back too. Since there was no availability, you were going to be staying with a girl in her house. Her name was Ellie. She was quite a few years younger than you, but Maria thought your personalities would get along well. You trusted your Aunt’s judgement, but was concerned when you found out you were to be living with a fifteen year old.

“Get some shut eye. I can help you move in tomorrow. It’s gon’ be difficult on that boot.”

It was early morning and Tommy was walking back to his house. Jackson was almost silent, besides for the early birds chirping in the trees and the sounds of the chefs getting ready for breakfast in the nearby mess hall. He stopped in front of Joel’s house and sighed. The large, two story garage behind the house is where Ellie lived, and where you would be staying until they could build you a house. But building a house took time and resources. He prayed that you and Ellie got along. It was either living with Ellie or Joel—Ellie definitely seemed like the safe choice in that situation. Joel wasn’t too friendly to strangers.

Slowly, he entered his own home. Maria was asleep on the couch, cradling her stomach. Tommy watched his beautiful wife for a moment, watching her chest rise and fall. She seemed so peaceful in that moment. Maria was due in a few weeks, and Tommy knew he wouldn’t have the luxury of this for much longer.

“Maria,” he whispered, stroking his hand over her hair and gently waking her up. She jolted awake, like most people did in this world, and was at ease when she found out it was just Tommy.

She put her coat on and grabbed the one she had gotten for you and followed her husband to the medic ward.

“Good morning,” Maria announced, dropping the coat on your stomach. This woke you. Groggily, you looked up at your Aunt with a displeased face. Tommy reached for the boot in the corner. You slowly moved your legs off the bed, groaning in pain. “Are you sure you don’t have anything for the pain?” you gasped. “Not for pain like this, I’m sorry.” Maria assured you. Tommy slowly guided your leg in to the medical boot and tightly strapped it close.

All night you had prepared for the depression that was going to follow with this damned boot. Not being able to move around, depending on others. It hurt too much to start to care about someone else, let alone have them take care of you. You hated to admit it, but this town could be gone within the span of a day.

“Now, you won’t need crutches. Give it a go.” Tommy said, extending his hands to you. They were coarse and dry, and that was a bit off putting to you. The second you put pressure down on your leg it felt like fire was streaming in your veins. Maria noticed your face tense and your hand grip harder on her husbands forearms. You sat back down on the bed, subduing your pain somewhat. “Shit,” Tommy sighed. “Do you think it was worse than we thought? Could the doctor have measured it wrong?” Maria whispered to Tommy. You heard bits and pieces of their conversation after that, but all you could focus on was your leg throbbing.

Ultimately, the two of them decided to get a wheelchair for you to use temporarily and be on strict bed rest. Yay.

“I dunno how I’m supposed to…” Maria said, grunting as she began to lift the handles of your wheelchair. “Don't!” Tommy yelled, stopping his very pregnant wife from potentially harming herself or the baby. “You wait here, lemme get Joel.”

Ice seemed to jolt through your veins when he said that. “Joel?” you asked suddenly in an alarmed tone. Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he can help us get down the steps.”

You froze as Tommy began to walk away. You looked up at Maria.

“What’s his last name?”

“Miller. He did spend some time in the Boston QZ… maybe you’ll recognize him.”

No no no no, no no no. This cannot be happening. This is a fever dream, you convinced yourself. This isn’t happening. This isn't real.

“You alright?” Maria asked, looking down from behind you. She was concerned at your lack of response. As she asked that, Tommy began to return. And along side him walked the man you had to convince yourself you weren't in love with.

Maybe he wouldn't recognize you.

You had lost a significant amount of weight. You sliced off half of the length of your hair while you made your journey just simply because it was annoying. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize you. You prayed he didn't. Oh god, what if he thought you were the weird stalker girl who followed him here simply because she wanted to be with him? That’s terrifying. Stalkers existed in the fungal world, but you weren't one in the real world.

“This Ellie’s new roommate?”

His voice filled your skin with goosebumps. Not looking up, you kept your eyes glued on your feet in the wheelchair footrests. “Yup, she’s all yours.” Maria said chipperly, giving Joel jurisdiction to the wheelchair handles. Tommy counted down from four as the two men struggled to make a clear way down the wooden steps of the medical ward. Hearing Joel grunt brought back to many explicit memories, it honestly made your core begin to warm. Joel wheeled you all the way to a house. “Your gon’ have to build a ramp,” Tommy teased Joel. Joel sighed, picking up the wheelchair once again in synch with Tommy as they struggled to make sure your wheels didn’t bump the old, cracked wooden stairs of the house.

As they wheeled you inside the house, the two middle aged men were out of breathe.

“You know…” Joel said, catching his breathe by holding on to the side of his wall. “Those damned brick stairs are gonna be hell. If she wants, she’s welcome to my couch until she’s well enough to walk.”

As Tommy spun around your wheelchair, your eyes met with Joel’s for the first time in over five months.

And he recognized you. Oh, he totally recognized you. His facial structure seemed to shift as he realized that the girl he just offered to live on his couch was you.

“Alright,” Tommy said, not realizing what was going on. His smooth voice luckily interrupted the longing look you and Joel were sharing. “I’m gonna go fix you up some breakfast from the mess hall. You good from here?” You nodded your head slowly.

“Don’t bother, I got plenty here.” Joel offered. Your eyes widened, realizing he wanted to get you alone with him. “You sure?” Tommy questioned. “Go find your wife, take her to a nice breakfast.” Joel suggested. Tommy agreed and promptly left the house.

Joel sat in an old recliner across from you. Your finger scratched at the old medical sticker stuck to the wheelchair’s arm.

“How did-” “Are you-”

The two of you let out an embarrassed scoff. “You go,” he offered. “No you-” you insisted. After bantering for a few seconds, Joel broke the awkwardness.

“How did you find me?”

You sighed. So you did come off as the stalker-ish, jealous girl. “It’s not like that, I promise you. M-Maria is my aunt, the one I was trying to find when…”

“When I was searchin’ for Tommy, yeah.” Joel finished your sentence. “She invited me here, gave me coordinates. I didn’t know you were here until five minutes ago, Joel.”

His name sounded weird coming off your lips after filling your head for so many months. Joel let out a sigh of relief. “You look different,”

“Yeah, well two months across country with almost no food and no ammo can change a person.”

He sighed. “And you…?” he asked, gesturing for you to ask your question.

“Are you mad?”

Joel chuckled.

“Your wondering if I’m mad?”

“Well yeah, I mean we didn't necessarily end on good terms.”

“Good terms?” Joel laughed. “I thought about that damned kiss for months, Y/N.”

A smile sparked to your lips, but slowly left when you remembered. Tess.

“And where is Tess? I’m sure she would be happy to see me.”

Joel’s eyes darted to the floor.

“She didn’t make it,” he said bluntly.

Memories flooding back of the good times you and Tess had made you sad. She was gone. The closest thing you had to a friend was Tess.

“Well,” Joel said, breaking the awkward silence. “Would you like some breakfast? Better than those sardines…” You chuckled a bit.

“Will you help me?” you asked, looking now up at Joel. He nodded, reaching out for your hands. He pulled you up, and the wheelchair rolled backwards. As you tried to steady yourself, the movement of the wheelchair put you off and you began to slip. “Shit,” you yelped as your boot hit the floor. Joel them promptly picked you up under the armpits and held you up unnaturally high. Naturally, your good leg wrapped around his waist, as the other one did its best attempt at following your other leg. His hands rested under your butt, one hand grasping on to it. You now looked down at him as he held you. “Giving me flashbacks,” you chuckled, a hand coming to steady yourself on his back. The other hand traveled just below his hairline on his neck. It was within seconds that Joel’s mouth was on yours.

He was eager. He hadn’t been with you for a good seven months. He needed something, even if it was just a taste of you.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling away. “I missed that.”

Your hand had traveled up his head, now grasping his graying hair. Both of your breaths were heavy. “Joel,” you whispered. “Please.”

He nodded and slowly put you down on the couch. Your leg hit the ground with an oompf. He stood in front of you. The bulge in his pants was very prominent.

“May I?” he asked you, coming down to his knees. Joel was never this respectful back in Boston. He would take what he wanted when he wanted, with your consent of course. He never asked for permission because he was always confident that he had it; and he did. Something in him had changed. It was very obvious that it did. You weren't sure if it was Tess’s passing, the brutal crossing of the country, or the argument the two of you had before. But something had definitely changed.

With the confirmation he was granted, he slowly lifted your butt off the sofa to remove your pants. Once your pants were by your thighs he yanked them off. One leg stayed trapped over your boot. There was the Boston Joel coming back, seeping through this new shell of a man he was. Your panties were soaked per usual. “Always so wet for me,” Joel muttered, pushing your stomach back on the couch. He took his middle finger and pushed your panties aside, but also coming back and giving a quick swipe between your folds. A soft moan came from your lips. You adjusted yourself so that you were on full display. Your hips rocked back as Joel wettened his fingers from you. His other hand rested on your thigh, holding it firmly as his thumb made soft circles on your inner thigh, dangerously close. You stirred as he finally inserted two fingers. “J-Joel…” you moaned, clenching around him.

“Just like that,” he said, slowly pumping in and out. “Good girl.”

The praise was almost enough to send you over the wall. He never gave you anything like this back in Boston. It was always to satisfy himself. You feel like this time Joel really, truly cared. He moved his hand from your thigh to your lower back, moving yourself closer to his face. His thumb brushed circles around your clit. “Do you want it?” he asked you. You looked down to his eager eyes. They seemed to melt at the sight of you. You shook your head. “With words…”

Boston Joel’s dominance had returned. “Y-yes.”

“Manners?” he asked, giving another deep circle around your clit. “Please, Joel. Please.”

You knew he liked when you used his name. “Good job,”

His tongue softly darted to your folds. A plethora of slurred swears and moans came from you as he began to eat you out. The sucking and slurping noises were almost pathetic; Joel was so needy. Both of his hands rested on your thighs, tightly holding on. As he took a second to re gain some air, his lips moaned against your clit. That was almost enough to make you cum. He licked his lips, and went back in. This time he could tell you were close. You were already contracting and he could feel the release building up in your core. “Come on baby, beg for it.”

“Let me cum Joel, please! I-I… please!”

He pulled away and kissed your folds. “Since you asked so nicely,”

His tongue seemed to dissolve inside of you as your orgasm began to hit you. “So good, good job baby. Ride it out.” he said, moving away from you. His thumb delved into your clit that made your legs begin to shake. “It’s okay, you got it.” Joel re assured you, holding down your knee on your injured jeg so it wouldn’t hurt. Once you came down from your high, he helped you put your pants back on. Slowly, he helped you get up and pulled your pants back up to your waist.

Holding you in his arms, the two of you stood.

“God, how I missed this.”

“God, how I missed you.”

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @undeniableadrenaline @evyiione @qualitypudding @jmillerswife @mxtokko @randomstory56 @misshoneypaper @sloanexx @jbcalway

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mizusnose · 4 months

Text

Lay your hands on me

Part One

Mizu x Akemi

3.5k words

tags: Modern AU, Questioning Sexuality Akemi, Lesbian Mizu, Making Out, Smoking, Lesbian Porn, Sexual Tension, Mean Mizu, Hometown Trauma

Summary: Akemi experiences post-grad loneliness (and horniness) and starts questioning her sexuality. She goes to a local bar in her hometown to fix it. Mizu helps her out with her dilemma.

A/N: I just think it would be neat for Akemi to start questioning her sexuality while she’s back in her hometown. More specially her attraction towards hot butches 🥰

Post-grad life was treating Akemi pretty well. Granted, it had only been a week since she had graduated, the soft pane of her childhood window awash with snow and dirt from the wind. Her parents hadn’t turned her room into an office, workout room, or storage like most of her other friend’s parents had done. Instead, she got to look at all the k-pop posters she had hung up in her high school era. Splattered polaroids when that was a thing, marked by pink sparkly sharpie and stickers too cute and too childish for her now. The whisper of her childhood frozen and unfettered by time.

She’d fall asleep amongst the mountains of unpacked clothes and wake well into the day, drowsy and sticky from the space heater. Deciding to relax and rot only lasted a few days before her life started picking back up without her.

She had to get paperwork done for her job that would start at the tail end of January. Some local newspaper position that sounded exactly right on paper in every way. She didn’t want to talk about how long she took to accept her offer when it popped up in her email five whole days after graduation.

Her parents would scold her for taking showers daily, especially if she wasn’t going anywhere so she was left to rot in her pajamas bottoms since she got back home. The only real thing changing was her shirts and whether or not she decided to wear a bra that day—which was usually a no go.

She wondered if this is what post-grad life was really supposed to be. Late mornings and reheated coffee and pajama bottoms. Akemi didn’t want to think about how others her age were probably out with their friends, family, or significant others for the holiday break. All of her friends were still at university or had moved away. While her hometown friends were moms, engaged, or no longer in contact.

The glow-in-the-dark stars that shone a deep muted green for minutes after she turned off her light was her only company on cold nights. Her longtime business major boyfriend Taigen had broken up with her before he graduated in the spring six months ago. Something about moving to New York and making it big. Not like he was gonna be interning under his fathers company that already made millions.

Although, Akemi supposed she wasn’t too different from Taigen in that respect. Both her parents were realtors that ruled their hometown. It’s what paid Akemi’s way through undergrad. It’s what she was expecting to pay for her masters.

After all, she wasn’t staying here for long. The plan was always a gap year to start saving before going out into the world and conquering it, or whatever it was that was advertised most these days. This would be temporary.

But then again, a degree in English was never really a great option was it? Or at least, that’s what her parents would say when they thought she wasn’t around. To each other in the pantry that meets the lip of the kitchen. Or at their hosted neighborhood dinner parties, whispering and shaking their heads with other parents. It wasn’t a lifestyle choice they were proud of.

The fact that she had hauled all of her stuff from college back home was something that only proved their point further. Akemi felt like a child who wasn’t stopped when her imagination got too big, and now she was dealing with the consequences.

Feeling lonely and horny on top of it all felt like the icing on top. Her collection of dildos and vibrators tucked away at the bottom of her underwear drawer seemed crude and way too loud in her parents house. She would watch porn and work too long and too hard to orgasm. Taigen always used to marvel at how wet she would get. Now though, Akemi found herself reaching for lube every time she wanted to masturbate. It felt like an important part of her unraveling. A key turning point.

The first time that Akemi got off to lesbian porn, she felt guilt in a way. She’d watched it before back in the beginning parts of college when everyone was experimenting. Akemi herself had kissed a girl at her first house party at eighteen years old. However, this time felt different. She barely got halfway through the cringey teacher and student plot before Akemi had to shove her pajamas down and rub one off mean and messy. No lube required.

The second time it happened, Akemi used a dildo and was more prepared for the hunger that bloomed inside her gut. It was like a forest fire the way the desire burned into her. A kick to her gut and a shove to her clit and she was gone.

She didn’t understand. Taigen had always fucked her the way she wanted—slow and soft and with whispers and cuddles afterwards. It was fine. It was sex.

This was something entirely different. One that Akemi felt was important to note. She’d never fucked a girl. Never been fucked by one either. Her very limited experience of women started and ended with the porn she was starting to rely on to get off.

She texted her friends about it. Got a flurry of responses that ended up with Akemi self-reflecting and asking herself what she wanted.

It wasn’t an easy decision. She told her girlfriends as much. They suggested a night on the town, and Akemi figured why not? It had been ages since she had gone out. Been even longer since she had gone out in her hometown.

So that’s how she finds herself in a bar that doubles as a sports spot during the day. Billiard tables line the entryway and take up most of the place where groups of men and women alike play. It’s a Saturday night and a bit busy for a small town. The bartop is a long expanse of wood that juts out at a corner and extends to the other end of the room in an L shape. It’s a small place. One room with a connected outside patio with stringed lights.

The security guard has to double check her ID and even after that he eyes her closely as she enters. Akemi feels overdressed the second she gets in. Mostly everyone is wearing jeans. Akemi spots a tank top here and there, but flannels and long sleeves with a modest crop and cut are the majority. Every guy is a copy and paste of rough jackets and some snapbacks worse for wear.

She sets her jacket on a rack and wraps her arms around herself. The velvet of her shirt barely extends past her shoulders before it connects to lacy long sleeves that hide nothing. Her matching butterfly tattoos hover above her collarbones. The deep V-cut of the shirt leaves little to imagination, and the cropped cut accentuates her waist. The mini skirt and tights are just as out of place. Akemi feels herself turn hot and wonders if this is really the place she should’ve gone to.

But before she can second-guess herself, she swallows hard and marches to the bartop to order herself a drink. She’s already slightly tipsy from the wine she had with her dinner beforehand. Yet the liquid courage disperses once Akemi reaches the mess of bodies blocking the bartop. She squishes and politely tries to wiggle her way through but is met with less than friendly looks.

Just as she’s started to give up, a strong shoulder brushes up against her and nearly shoves her out of the way completely. Akemi feels the wine as she stumbles. Her face feels hot when she turns to see who it is, and feels it burn hotter when she realizes.

It’s a woman. Dressed in dark wash jeans and doc martens. She’s also wearing a long sleeve shirt. The waffle-knitted thermal pulls tight at her shoulders and back and neck. Her legs go on forever and Akemi watches allured as the woman moves with ease through the crowded bartop. Her profile is sharp and angular. The jut of her jaw, the peak of her cheekbones, the point of her chin. Her nose and soft curve of her forehead are the only distinguishing features that scream woman. Otherwise, the undercut and pulled back hair would’ve thrown Akemi off completely.

She watches as the woman gestures to order. Her two fingers long and pink from the cold drink in her hand. It’s half empty in her hold and Akemi wants.

It sits with her, then, how familiar the woman looks. It comes in flashes suddenly, the last couple of pornos she’s searched for and watched. Two women, bodies writhing, hot and panting. But beneath that, the difference between a taller, leaner and mean-looking woman and a smaller, bustier, whinier one. The crux of Akemi’s desire all along.

Akemi recalls the title of that first porn video she’d gotten off on. Hot Butch Professor Teaches Student A Lesson.

The woman waits for her drink and gets what she’s there for. As she leaves, Akemi feels that familiar punched-out feeling. The start of arousal. A spark catching.

She tracks the woman to the edge of the room. A billiard table observing the games going on. She’s as tall as the other men and her rounded tinted glasses reflect the low hanging lights. Akemi forces herself to look away. Her phone is dug out of her purse and she smashes a question into the group chat.

Guys, what’s a butch?

Her chat explodes instantly. Some gifs of eggplants, a picture of the blonde girl from atlantis, and one actual answer in a paragraph-length text.

She skims, looks at the woman, skims again, and nods, determined.

After managing to force herself through the crowd in a similar fashion to the woman, she gets a drink. Something fizzy and sweet. There’s a cherry floating on top.

Akemi wonders how this works. If there’s a method to flirting with other women. She shakes her head at that, there shouldn’t be. It’s attraction. Akemi knows attraction. Has been the center of it many times. So, with her resolve, she struts to the woman.

The height difference is apparent when Akemi meets the woman’s gaze. She’s wearing combat boots that have at least an inch on her usual height, yet she’s still looking up to grin at the woman.

“Hi.” Akemi says. She leans against the wall, tilting her head and showing off the stretch of skin on her neck.

“Hm.” The woman says. She regards Akemi carefully. Her eyes flicker to her matching butterfly tattoos. The action fizzles inside Akemi’s belly like the drink in her hand, “You are?” An eyebrow raises, and oh she’s mean, isn’t she?

“Akemi. And you are..?”

The woman meets her eyes again. This time over the tint of her glasses and Akemi is caught. Feels like a small creature fenced in by a predator. Like a fawn in a snare, bloody and vulnerable and raw.

“Mizu.” Her voice is deep and raspy. Akemi shudders at the sound. Mizu must notice because she takes a sip of her drink and works an ice cube into her mouth. It crushes against her canines. Akemi watches mesmerized, “You new to town?”

“Hah. No, back for the holidays.” Akemi lies. She figures it’s easier to have an escape, “That easy to tell?” Akemi jokes, getting closer and working with what Mizu seems to be giving.

“A bit.” Mizu drags her eyes down Akemi’s body as an answer. Akemi thinks she might combust.

“Yeah? How so?”

Mizu flicks her eyes around the bar and grins. She bends down to get to Akemi’s level. There’s a hand at her waist.

“Most girls wait until I’m tipsier to start flirting.” Akemi’s hip is gripped tightly by Mizu’s warm firm palm, “I can be mean.”

As quickly as Mizu is there she’s gone in the next instant. The lip of her cup against her mouth. Standing back up like nothing happened. Her hand is still on Akemi’s waist though. A warm firm heat.

“I’m eager.” Akemi replies. Makes her eyes wider and bites into her lip.

Mizu frowns then. Takes another sip of her drink and sets it on a nearby stool, “No. You’re confused.”

The hand disappears then. The cold shocks Akemi as she makes an aborted sound. A start to a sentence.

“But, I-“

“I don’t fuck straight girls.” Mizu states simply. She’s turned back to the room now, disinterested. No longer facing Akemi, the illusion of privacy is lost. The sounds of billiard games come back and Akemi startles.

“I’m not…not—“ not straight. Was that right? It didn’t feel completely right. Not completely wrong either. Akemi didn’t know exactly. Wasn’t meant to be thinking about it right now. She was here for an answer to a question, “I want to.” Akemi feels like it’s an okay response to her swirling thoughts.

Mizu doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even look at her. Rather, she chugs the rest of her drink and walks back to the bartop. Akemi feels the air brush by her and she stews in annoyance at the outcome. Doesn’t know why when she’s the one who is apparently walking around with a giant neon sign that says straight girl.

She finishes the rest of her fizzy sweet drink and eats the cherry. It tastes like her childhood and she chuckles at the irony. Wonders what young Akemi would think about her right now. Trying to get some in her hometown because she’s what? lonely? As if no one else in the existence of the world hadn’t been lonely.

She chats up some guys that buy her drinks for the rest of the night. It’s familiar and all the tricks work on them easily. There’s no fight about it. No pushing for more. No pulling for dominance. Cat and mouse be damned. Akemi convinces herself she likes it.

Mizu doesn’t linger inside long and soon enough she’s out of Akemi’s sight. Akemi tells herself she doesn’t care.

A couple drinks turn into more and suddenly Akemi’s drunk. It dawns on her that she’s had more than she thought when the guy she’s talking to grabs her waist as she stumbles. The touch is in the same place Mizu placed her hand earlier. It doesn’t feel nearly as intense.

Akemi promises she’s fine to walk when she leaves the bar with her purse and phone in hand. The December cold shocks some alcohol out of her, and makes her realize she’s left her coat inside.

“Urgh.” She’s turning around to head back inside when she notices a figure at the edge of the building. Plumes of smoke flow out of Mizu’s mouth and Akemi can smell the tabaco from where she stands.

Maybe it’s the alcohol or the cold realization that Mizu may have been right that Akemi stumbles over. A fight is what she wants, but what she gets is another pretty cocked eyebrow and lips that must taste like cigarette smoke.

“You smoke?”

Mizu seems surprised by her confidence but quickly recovers.

“Yes. Need a light?”

Akemi is upset for some reason. There’s been no success tonight and she’s determined to make it Mizu’s problem.

“I don’t smoke. Too bitter.”

“I have a vape too.” Mizu suggests, scooting over for Akemi to lean next to her, “‘ts sweeter.”

Akemi throws a glare at Mizu. She’s still beautiful under the combined glow of a nearby street lamp and the reflecting christmas lights that hang off the roof above them. The falling snow only makes Akemi’s heart thunder.

“Don’t do that either.” Akemi mumbles, pouts despite being the one who denied it, “My ex used to be addicted. I hate the smell.”

“Huh.” Mizu says inhaling another pull before exhaling away from Akemi. It’s gentle, the way she holds concern for Akemi, “Ex-boyfriend?”

“Ugh not this again.”

Mizu casts her a glance. A faraway knowing look that makes Akemi feel so young. Almost like she’s a kid again. Not like she’s just graduated. She pouts harder.

“I’m interested. I want to…I want to try it.” Akemi says. She’s shy now after all her big emotions have worn themselves out with the stretch of silence on Mizu’s end, “And you’re hot.”

Mizu chuckles, takes another drag and then flicks her cigarette into the snow. Turns towards Akemi and pushes into her space. There’s the touch on Akemi’s waist again. It feels colder than before. Akemi groans.

“You don’t know what you want.” Mizu says. Her voice has dropped and become deeper. She’s frowning down at Akemi. A wolf under the full moon. Akemi is trapped and her breath hitches. Her thighs squeeze together, “Don’t even know the first thing about being with a woman.”

“I-I..I do!” Akemi stutters. Determined to win this game she’s started.

“Oh yeah?” Mizu asks, pushing pushing pushing.

“Yeah..” Akemi didn’t notice earlier that Mizu had freckles. A smattering of them on the bridge of her nose and beauty marks on her chin, her cheekbone, the edge of her lips, “We make out first.”

Mizu smirks, gives Akemi room to wrap her arms around Mizu’s neck.

“Okay.”

It’s a clear go ahead and Akemi is pressing her lips to Mizu’s. There’s no finesse. Two lips touching. Akemi pulls away and is flushed from her own actions. She avoids Mizu’s eyes and looks at the expanse of forest that engulfs their tiny town instead.

Mizu is still close, her nose brushing Akemi’s own. Her breath is hot on Akemi’s face. She smells like cigarettes and suddenly Akemi doesn’t mind it at all.

“Cute. Now let me show you how. Properly.”

Mizu tilts Akemi’s chin up. They’re looking at one another now. The tinted glasses now gone from Mizu’s face. Akemi wants.

“Understood?” Mizu asks. Her hand has slipped to the back of Akemi’s back, brushing her tattooed collarbone with the movement. Her other hand has clamped down on the jut of exposed skin and Akemi whimpers.

“U-understood.”

And then Mizu is kissing her. It’s nothing like Akemi’s gentle kiss. This kiss is wet and hot. A pressing smear of heat against Akemi’s mouth. Her mouth is open and suddenly Mizu’s tongue is there licking and exploring. Mizu’s hand presses into Akemi’s hip and slips under the velvet and Akemi shakes despite herself. Pulls away to gasp at the cold press of Mizu’s palm against her ribs.

Mizu laughs, kissing her jaw and ear and chin as Akemi huffs out little whines.

“Pathetic. Can’t keep up at all.” Mizu growls. She grips the back of Akemi’s neck. Hard, “Not done. Take it.”

Mizu kisses her like they’re going to fuck.

Akemi realizes this when Mizu’s hand leaves the sensitive skin of her ribs and drifts under her skirt. Up the tights on her thigh and underneath the line of her ass. Her fingertips find her underwear and the wet of her cunt. It’s brief and gone before it’s even fully there, but Akemi whimpers and accidentally bites down on Mizu’s lip at the feeling.

“Hah.” Akemi’s lips feel puffy and swollen when they part. The sound alone makes Akemi wetter, pushing her thighs together tighter for friction, “Please..” She reaches up for more, and Mizu stands up fully then. The distance too great for Akemi to close by herself.

“No.” Mizu says. Her pupils are blown and the blue that Akemi was mesmerized with is now harder to make out.

Akemi shivers at Mizu’s blatant staring and is surprised to find Mizu’s own breathing is staggered. Clearly affected after all.

“You’re cold.” Mizu steps away then, hands coming undone around her. Akemi feels like a puppet with its strings cut, boneless against the wall. She shivers hard, proving Mizu’s point, “Here.”

Akemi’s bundled up in Mizu’s sweater when Mizu invites her over. It’s a clear indication of more and Akemi’s chest hammers with the implication. She nods shyly, shoving her hands into Mizu’s jacket pockets. Is surprised to be met with gum wrappers, coffee straws, and sticky notes.

“No sex tonight. You’re drunk. I have roommates.” Mizu explains just as Akemi is trying to discretely update the group chat with the recent events, “There aren’t any buses running now and I live nearby so..”

“But! you kissed me!” Akemi whines. Ah, she can hear the way the alcohol has made her voice more pitchy. She nearly misses the down step of the curb but Mizu catches her, hand strong around her waist, “Okay, fine. But, can we make out some more?”

Mizu nods sagely. She leads Akemi towards the sidewalk. The falling snow lands on her head and shoulders and Akemi wants to leave marks there if she’s allowed. Akemi distantly thinks that Mizu would be into that, being in charge.

I’ll find out tomorrow morning.. Akemi thinks, delighted at the loophole she’s found. She presses into Mizu’s side as they walk back together.

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #bes mizu #mizu x akemi #akemi blue eye samurai #fanfic #modern au #lesbian mizu

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deancasbigbang · 7 months

Text

Title: Salt and Rosemary

Author: tiamatv

Artist: galakitty

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Dean/Castiel

Length: 25000

Warnings: No Major Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergent; Curses; Dark Fairy Tale Elements; Enemies to Friends to Lovers; Dark Humor; Pre-Series; SPN Season 1

Posting Date: October 24, 2023

Summary: Sure, Dean’s cursed to die—cursed to have his breath stolen from him—on his twenty-fourth birthday. Uh-huh, thanks for that, Mom. Some real Rapunzel bullshit, there. But here’s the thing: Dean’s a hunter. He’s got iron around his neck, jade on his wrists, and Latin on his tongue. Ain’t no fucking curse gonna take him and then move on to Sammy after. He doesn’t expect that his curse has a name. But what kind of name is 'Castiel,' anyway?

Excerpt: When the curse writes KILL on the motel wall in big, spiky letters, the brown of it with the drip at the bottom really suspiciously like dried blood, though. Well, that incident gives Dean pause. Not for the reasons anyone else might, though. First of all, Dean’s—for once—glad that Dad’s off on his own again, chasing down some kind of lead while Dean’s here on a salt and burn. ‘Cause if he saw that nonsense, he would lose his shit and probably drag Dean off to Pastor Jim. Or shut him in Bobby’s basement. “Wonder where that blood comes from? Huh,” Dean muses. After all, the curse is tied to him, and it’s sure as hell not his blood. But something’s ticking at the back of his mind, something… He can’t see the curse right now, with all the lights on—his shadow just looks like a shadow—but… that makes Dean think. And ‘cause Dean’s just not that smart, it’s not until he’s working off the words with a scrubby and the kind of industrial soap used by crime scene cleaners (he's pretty sure he knows what it says about their lives that they keep this stuff in the trunk of the Impala) that what’s been bothering him really comes clear. He stops, his hand poised over the first L in KILL. “Hey!” Dean exclaims, and grins, slopping the sponge onto the wall again. “Waittasec. You can write! Y’know, I knew I heard you talk that first time. You got a name? I mean, I could call you ‘hey, you, cursey!’ but that doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.” There’s no answer. He doesn’t expect there to be, ‘cause, really, Dean’s just being an asshole. He’s more surprised than he should be when the next morning, in the exact same spot, is written another word in the same red-brown. This one’s smaller, though, and the curves of it are round and full: neat, not the drippy, spiky mess of yesterday. Castiel, it says. With lowercase letters included, this time. Heh. How polite. (But maybe Castiel is kind of an asshole, too, ‘cause now Dean has to scrub off even more bloody letters.)

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2023 #fic preview #2023 promo #deancas #destiel

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pinkskytwst · 1 year

Text

Of Princesses and Queens

Epel/Reader (not Prefect) Riddle/Reader (not Prefect)(End Pairing)

Reader gender is not specified but the term 'princess' is used the same way Riddle and Vil are called 'Queens'. It's not meant to be a term tied to their gender.

Warning: ANGST, near death experience with ice.

(I shamelessly stole Jack's death scene from Rise of the Guardians)

===================

It was inevitable that you and Epel would be friends.

You were literally the only two people under the age of forty in your entire village and for the sake of both your sanities, you clung to each other like lifelines.

Growing up in the country in a community centered around the prosperous but ultimately uninteresting apple orchard meant that the two of you had to create your own entertainment. Learning to climb trees together was one of your first clear memories – along with the subsequent fall that left you with a broken leg and Epel with a sprained shoulder from where he had tried to grab you.

The moment you healed up you were both at it again until playing tag among the branches was your go-to game.

With your mom’s and Epel’s grandfather’s help you were able to create what you both decided was the best tree house to ever exist. It had winding steps, a second story, a ‘look out’ post that was accessible by a hanging bridge, a trap door with a climbing rope, a swing big enough for two, enough pillows and blankets to create a nest more than big enough for the both of you, and best of all a sign that read in large letters ‘no old people aloud’.

Princes would be jealous of your treehouse.

Your dad nearly laughed himself sick when he saw the sign and Epel’s nana just sighed and insisted that you at least add a protective railing around the ledges.

Epel tried to argue that you weren’t babies but no one said ‘no’ to his nana and your mom was nice enough to help add what was needed for the woman’s approval.

The both of you practically lived in that treehouse.

When you weren’t in lessons or helping around the orchard, the two of you were having grand adventures high off the ground in imaginary worlds you created.

“Nah, pirates are lame.” You rolled your eyes as Epel gasped in utter offense. “We should be knights! They’re super cool and tha’ book I got from pop has all these neat facts about fighting dragons and saving princesses!”

“But we don’t have any dragons to fight!” Epel insisted in a huff, crossing his arms over his chest, wooden pirate sword clutched in his smaller fist.

“Well, we could go fight Silas’s turkey!” you argued back stubbornly, using your taller status to try and bully your friend into playing your game instead.

You had been playing pirates for weeks, you wanted to play something else! Besides, that turkey was a bloodthirsty monster!

“But pirates are cool!” Epel shot back, just as determined, his pout and scrunched up nose the same expression that your dad always cooed over whenever he saw it.

You inwardly scoffed, Epel wasn’t that cute.

Just a little.

“Oh, fine.” You huffed, throwing your hands into the air. “Then let’s at least go look for treasure.”

Instantly Epel lit up, nearly sparkling with his wide, beaming smile and gapped tooth.

Maybe a little more than a little.

“Yeah! Come on!” he said, snagging your hand and pulling you towards the trap door.

When the sun had finally set and his grandpa came out to call you in, you were both curled up in your nest and surrounded by your ‘loot’ of strangely shaped apples, a dried snakeskin, pile of acorns sorted into ones with and without ‘hats’, a stick in the shape of a corkscrew, and a particularly sparkly rock that you thought looked cool.

Epel grumbled as you trudged after the old man that was basically your grandpa, the smaller boy limp on your back and face smooshed into your hair.

Being country kids, you and Epel were no strangers to injuries. Scrapes and bruises were common, and you had lost two teeth after a particularly stupid stunt involving a prank gone wrong with a neighbor's stubborn mule. Thankfully one was still a baby tooth and was replaced naturally anyway, but the other had to be magically regrown and you STILL remembered the lecture your pop had given you about that.

The point was, that the both of you had a very skewed view regarding safety and were far too used to situations that would have caused city parents to grasp their pearls and balk.

That was why, during a normal winter day when you were thirteen and Epel had just turned fourteen, neither of you hesitated when you went out to your favorite hill to sled and caught sight of the creek frozen over.

Well, it was called ‘the creek’ but it was actually a small river that wound around the edges of the northern part of the forest, past his family’s orchard. It was a decently calm one and ice skating was normal when it froze over, so you both jumped on the idea.

Typically, an adult would check to make sure the ice was thick enough, but you weren’t babies anymore and Epel loved to ice skate. He was way too impatient to wait long enough for you to text your dad to come and check for you.

It was getting harder and harder to deny him anything, and so when he begged to be pushed around on the ice with the sleds you agreed.

Everything was fine at first, walking on the ice wasn’t exactly easy so you didn’t get very far from the edge as you tried to push him. As you re-adjusted to the skill, though, you were able to push him farther.

Epel was laughing and climbing off his sled to switch places with you when he slipped.

The sled glided away from him and he hit the ice hard.

A crack of ice spiderwebbed out from under where your friend was on his hands and knees and your laugh died in your throat.

The world stilled to a terrifying silence as your gazes met, his filled with sudden panic and yours with something so sharp and grasping you couldn’t begin to name it.

“It’s okay…” you whispered, somehow afraid if you spoke too loudly everything would fall apart.

Epel swallowed thickly, tears beading at the corner of his eyes as he tried to control his breathing, tried not to move as each tiny shift drew more snaps and tiny breaks to shoot across the ice.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

The words were tumbling out of your lips desperately like a mantra, not sure if you were trying to calm Epel, yourself, or beg whatever deity was watching to not let your friend fall.

“I’m going to save you. I’m the hero this time, remember? Heroes save the princesses. You’re pretty like a princess, so it’ll be fine. You’re safe.”

You honestly weren’t even sure what you were saying at this point as you tried desperately to figure out a way to get to the lavender haired boy without putting more weight on the ice and causing it to break.

“I’m not a princess.” Epel managed weakly, voice warbling unevenly.

“Sure, you are. You’re a princess and I’m the manly hero.” You said firmly, spying a fallen branch that looked just long enough. “And manly heroes always save the princesses, right? That’s how the stories always go. Princesses never get hurt.”

You darted over and snatched up the branch before hurrying back to the ice and carefully stepping out as close as you could. You needed to be able to reach him.

The ice began to creak ominously under your boots, but it didn’t crack so you continued to slide yourself over until you could hold out the branch close enough for Epel to reach it.

Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“Hold onto it, ya got it? See, see it’s going to be okay.”

Epel wrapped his mitten covered fingers around the branch and clung to its rough surface desperately as he eased up on his knees.

“Come on, I’ll pull you. It’s okay. I’ll save you-“

You felt it more than heard it. A shutter through the ice below your boots.

You swung as hard as you could manage, putting all your weight against slinging Epel to the riverbank.

You felt the world drop out from beneath you, felt the freezing water engulf you to your very bones, stealing your breath.

You thought you heard your name being screamed but then you were being dragged down and only knew darkness.

It was sheer luck that one of your neighbors had been out hunting and heard Epel’s screams.

It was sheer luck she was able to use her weak water magic to drag you from the depths of the river and onto the snow-covered shore while also holding back the small boy from simply leaping in after you. It was luck that you hadn’t been under more than a minute or two.

It was luck that she was able to get you breathing again.

Your stay at the hospital lasted only a couple of days but Epel refused to leave your side for weeks.

He clung to you, large blue eyes swimming with guilt and tears he refused to let fall.

All he could think of was the determination and terror that had washed over your face when you yanked him towards the safety of the snow.

Of that instant of relief, he had seen in your eyes even as the ice gave way beneath you.

You were the bravest person he knew and neither of you had ever shied away from adventure or danger. He had walked proudly at your side knowing that you were best friends, and you could trust him to have your back. You never looked at him any different for being shorter or ‘cute’ as some of the other residents cooed. You never doubted that he could handle himself just as well as you could. He never doubted he could protect you if you needed it.

You were both wrong.

If he had been better, if he had been more like you – fearless and determined and strong – you wouldn’t have had to save him.

He wouldn’t have had to watch your still body with too-blue lips be dragged from the ice.

Wouldn’t have felt his world disappear beneath him with the earth-shattering terror that had sent him to his knees.

Wouldn’t have realized what it felt like for his heart to shatter while it still beat in his chest and know that the only possible way it would heal was if your own started beating again as well.

Wouldn’t have suffered the agonizing moments that dragged on like an eternity that clawed at his lungs and prevented him from breathing until you gave a sputtering gasp and clung to him as you coughed up lungful’s of water and mucus.

He wouldn’t have realized how weak and useless he was.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He whispered one night while you were both bundled up in your bed, fireplace crackling and more blankets than normal layered over you.

You couldn’t handle the cold as well as you used to.

He made sure never to go anywhere – no matter the weather – without a thick sweater tied around his waist or tucked in a bag. Just in case.

You gave a small snort and pinched his cheek.

“What are you talking about, of course a hero saves the-“

“I’M NOT A PRINCESS!” he snapped, voice hissed and full of disgust.

His chest heaved, arms trembling, but his eyes were dry.

He had sworn on the day in the hospital – when your first words were asking about his safety – that he was never going to cry again.

He would never make you worry about him again.

“I’m not a princess, ya got that!? I don’t need you protecting me! I don’t need you saving me! I’m not weak! Call me that again and I’ll punch ya!”

You blinked up at your best friend and could only manage a small nod.

“Okay.” you agreed with a whisper.

Epel glared at you like he was expecting you to say more, argue, or something, but when he saw that you didn’t plan on it, he relaxed somewhat. The tension easing from his shoulders as he flopped down and tugged the blankets over your heads again. He created a cocoon to trap in the warmth and fight off the small shivers he could feel starting to work down your spine again.

He tugged you against him so that your head was tucked under his chin, despite you still being taller.

“Good. I’m the hero from now on so don’t you forget it.” He snapped, burying his face into your hair, and tightening his hold around you, determined to fight off any chill you might get.

Determined to not let you wake up cold or alone.

“I won’t. Promise.” You whispered softly against his neck, arms wrapping around his waist and holding him back just as tightly.

You never doubted him. Even after he failed you, you never doubted him.

He was going to become a man that could live up to your trust.

The kind of man you deserved to have protecting you instead of the other way around.

He failed you once.

He’d never fail you again.

It was a relief to Epel that he had magic. Oh, he knew he had some, you both wouldn’t be able to fly brooms without a little bit of magic at least. But to have enough to be accepted into Night Raven College was something he had silently worried over.

If he wasn’t powerful enough to go with you – because, of course, you would be amazing enough to be accepted – how could he get strong enough to protect you?

Your matching letters on thick, ebony parchment and written in silver ink appeared at your houses on the same morning.

Epel hadn’t even bothered to put on shoes as he raced out the back door and sprinted across the fields and the orchards to the treehouse. He scampered up the rope, through the trap door and hurled himself inside but he was the first one there.

Nearly vibrating he scrambled up to the lookout and paced around the small balcony until he saw your figure sprinting through the knee length grass. He let out a whoop of excitement as he could see something dark in your hand and began wave his arms around wildly to show off his own.

He could hear your delighted laughter and wasted no time darting back down to the main ‘base’ room. By the time you had pulled yourself up the rope he was helping to yank you up through the trap door and causing the both of you to go tumbling into the nest together.

“Wediditwediditwedidit!” you babbled, throwing your arms around him.

“Night Raven here we come! Whoooo!” Epel crowed, kicking his feet in the air as he felt you laughing into his shoulder. “We’re gonna be the most powerful mages Twisted Wonderland has ever seen!”

When you had both tired yourself from the flood of excitement and adrenaline, you were both sprawled out on the blankets with your still messy bedhead resting on his stomach as you both stared up at the ceiling of your sanctuary. You knew every board and knot of wood, had watched it darken with age but not weaken over the years. Had worked together to repair the shingles that had been blown off by a particularly bad storm.

He began running his fingers through your hair, easing the tangles out absently as a warm sort of quiet settled around you both.

“…Pel?” your voice drew him from his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Are you nervous?”

“’Course not! I’m not afraid of anything!” he replied habitually.

There was a small pause.

“I am.” You whispered, so soft he almost missed it completely.

He blinked widely, propping himself up on his hands and looking down at you as you flushed darkly and looked away.

Epel opened his mouth to insist there was nothing for you to be worried over but something about the look in your eyes made him hesitate. He watched you for a moment before laying back down again and returning to untangling your hair.

“Why are ya nervous?” he finally asked.

You didn’t answer at first, shifting better so it was easier for him to continue running his fingers through your hair.

“…What if I’m not good enough?”

Epel didn’t understand. The thought was ludicrous to him and the mere idea that you would actually believe something like that just didn’t compute in his mind.

You were amazing. You were…you were…you. He didn’t have words to explain how wrong it was for those words to leave your lips.

“I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who tries to say you aren’t.” he all but growled, his hackles raising at the mere thought of someone saying something like that to you.

You gave a small laugh, and it warmed his chest knowing you weren’t doubting him in the slightest.

“Try not to get us expelled on the first day.” You teased.

“Oi! You say that like I’d get caught!”

“You always get us caught! What about when we tried to hide in Carroway’s truck to-“

“Hey! We agreed not to talk about that again!”

Your laughter sounded better than the pensive tone from before, so he didn’t protest too much. He did tug on a piece of your hair though, playfully.

“Seriously, if someone messes with you just tell me and I’ll take care of it.” He said.

You tilted your head faintly to smile up at him.

“I know you will.”

Because you trusted him.

And he wasn’t going to let you down.

When you were placed into Heartslabyul while Epel was sent to Pomefiore you were disappointed.

When Epel stormed over to you the next morning at the breakfast table you were saving a seat for him at, you could only stare.

You friend was…he looked…

“I’m joining your house.” He snarled as he dropped down beside you, painted lips pulled back and narrowed eyes lined in indigo.

You blinked, unable to form words for a moment before clearing your throat and managing a weak sort of smile.

“I-I don’t know if that’s a good-“

“I am not staying there! I can't!” he ranted, slamming his fists – nails painted the same shade as his eyeshadow – on the table.

“Our Housewarden is really strict and I don’t think you can just-“

“Epel! What did I tell you about running!” a smooth, cultured voice said sharply, making you turn to look up at one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen.

“I’m not staying in Pomefiore!” Epel spat back stubbornly, spine straight as he glared daggers at the tall blonde looming over the two of you.

The blonde heaved a sigh like he was suffering the start of a migraine, lightly rubbing at his temple before his gaze flickered down to you.

You in your vibrant – garish - Heartslabyul uniform and the crooked heart you had painted on the corner of your mouth with uncertain hands. His expression shifted minutely and the tilt of his lips with the rise of a perfectly sculpted eyebrow spoke volumes of just what he thought of you.

Or rather how little he thought of you.

As in not at all.

You swallowed and quickly stood, offering what you hoped was a polite smile and bow of your head.

“Hello, I’m-“

“I do not care.”

Your words died as his attention returned to Epel and he wrote you off completely, forgetting your very existence as unnecessary and unsightly.

“I certainly won’t be allowing you to leave for a house with such low standards.” He replied coolly. “Now come, you’re better off making friends with your fellow-“

But Epel snarled and was suddenly in front of you, glaring up at who you could only assume was his Housewarden.

“Don't talk about them like that.” He growled, hands clenched, and you could smell the flowery shampoo from his soft curls.

His eyes sparked and even though you could see over his head – he never did quite catch up to your height – you were absolutely certain he was ready to throw himself at the guy.

The blonde eyed him carefully and must have seen something in his expression or determination because he simply gave another tired sigh.

“Oh, very well, I will allow you to remain friends but you won’t get out of the skin care routine and if you’re going to be seen around this…potato then you should at least bring them with you. Perhaps I can make something of them so they won’t be a complete embarrassment to your reputation and our dorm.” He said, waving his hand slightly before spinning on his heels and sauntering off.

You could only blink, too stunned to really respond, and watched your best friend turn to face you.

“We’re going to the headmaster and I don’t care what I have to do but I’m not staying there.”

Epel was staying in Pomefiore.

The headmaster said that he had to have at least two weeks where the mirror had placed him before he was given the chance to go through the time consuming process of switching dorms.

Every time you were able to see each other he complained non-stop about his Housewarden and his overbearing nagging while you shared your laments about the red headed tyrant that ran yours.

“Maybe we can move to Scarabia…” you muttered with a weak smile during one of the evenings you were allowed to spend with Epel in his dorm room – with the caveat that you went through his skin care routine and makeup practice along with him. “Their Housewarden seems nice.”

Epel readily nodded, reaching out for the liner he had chosen specifically for you, to match the color of the heart you painted on the corner of your mouth every day.

“And they have cool uniforms, I’ll look way more manly in those than these.” He glared, reaching out to your face.

You had been close since you could learn to walk and touch was nothing new to you, but somehow, suddenly, sitting there with your -maybe too pretty – friend holding your chin felt different. The way his large eyes focused on you, leaned in a little closer than normal and began sketching out the shape of the heart on your skin and over your lips. The way his thumb brushed over them absently to fix a mistake. The way he smirked proudly when he was done and looked up to you to throw in your face how much better he was at this than you-

You both froze.

It wasn’t that you thought your friend was any more beautiful with the makeup than he had always been, or that the luxurious uniform accentuated it more than the work clothes when you would both swing around branches to harvest apples.

It was that shadow that had been there since the ice broke beneath your feet was pushed back. His chin held a little higher. His gaze fiery and more determined than you had ever seen him except for that night where he refused to be a Princess.

A bit of the confidence that you had always loved about Epel was starting to bloom again, despite his rantings about his annoying Housewarden. Vil Schoenheit had the highest standards for his students and especially the one that he was grooming as his protégé. Self-assuredness was a requirement and he certainly wasn’t about to let Epel have a weakness so easily exploited.

It stole your breath away and suddenly you had a very strong suspicion about why your heart fluttered every time he touched you now.

“I-I should go.” You stammered, scrambling to your feet and snagging your backpack from where you had dropped it by his bed. “Housewarden Rosehearts will be calling curfew soon and I don’t want to be collared.”

You fled before Epel could answer.

Epel did not end up leaving Pomefiore.

You didn’t end up leaving Heartslabyul.

Or rather, you weren’t allowed.

Vil had firmly declared Epel as his successor for Housewarden and with everything that happened in Heartslabyul…well you didn’t exactly get a chance to try. And then, you really didn’t want to anymore.

After the strange magicless student and their monster ‘saved’ your Housewarden somehow, it was like your dorm changed overnight. The rules remained but they were more flexible, your fellow students more quick to laugh, and the overall atmosphere lighter.

You liked your dorm mates and Housewarden now.

You enjoyed the movie nights in the lounge and the tea parties in the afternoon. You liked taking care of the hedgehogs and flamingos. You liked doing homework with your dormmates and helping Trey-senpai bake and doing makeup tutorials with Cater-senpai. Spending an afternoon painting the roses with the other first years and trying to keep Ace and Deuce from wreaking havoc in the gardens.

It was so different than your life back home but it wasn’t bad.

The etiquette was strange at first but it was also kind of fun, like rules to a game, and you really looked up to Riddle-senpai after he had apologized to you and the rest of the dorm. He was so confident and always knew what to do and what to say. He didn’t let anyone speak down to him because of what he looked like.

He reminded you of Epel, but lately you had been doing your best not to think about your best friend and so focusing on being the best Heartslabyul student you could be was easier.

You had even started experimenting with adding a little more makeup to your ‘look’ the way Cater-senpai suggested.

Not a whole lot but he made sure to point out that your eyes were ‘way viral’ – whatever that meant – so he showed you how to use liners and eyeshadow along with the heart that you had perfected on the corner of your lips.

You even worked up the courage to ask Vil-senpai for his suggestion on colors and he had sat you down for more than an hour and walked you through color matching and seasonal shades while Rook-senpai waxed poetic in the background.

He was strict and straight to the point about what he suggested you work on, but it wasn’t the cruelness that you had felt from Riddle-senpai before and so it was easy to brush off any hurt that might have come from it. Epel had always been blunt too so you were hardly a stranger to such words. You knew how to listen to what was behind them.

You knew he never meant to hurt your feelings and you were beginning to think that Vil-senpai was the same way. Or maybe, at least, that he didn’t always mean the acerbic insults he could come up with at a moment’s notice.

You could ignore it.

What wasn't easy to brush off was the look Epel shot you when he found you in his Housewarden’s room. Chin in his hand and eyeshadow being carefully applied.

“Epel! Look, we-“ you started excitedly when you noticed the lavender haired boy in the doorway.

You were having a particularly good day so far, had done well in class, gotten a head pat from Trey-senpai, and Vil-senpai had given you some good tips that you wanted to share with your friend. You thought, maybe, you could work up the courage to do HIS makeup this time. And maybe if you asked Rook-senpai he could give you help on how to tell Epel how you felt about him.

It was a terrifying thought but also electrifying.

How would it feel to hold his hand, not just as a friend? How would it feel to kiss him? Would he blush like he did when he was flustered, or would he smile at you? Would he let you wear his extra jersey to the Magift games? Would he let you take him on a date to Mostro Lounge?

“Would you just STOP, Vil!?” your friend cut you off, glaring daggers at the taller blonde and grabbing your wrist to pull you away from the vanity you had been sitting at. “No one likes your stupid makeup! They look ridiculous!”

You froze, the warm bubble in your chest disappearing as if it was never there.

“Epel, lower your voice and watch your manners.” The blonde glared, looking actually, honestly angry for the first time as his violet eyes flickered to you and then back to your best friend.

“No! You don’t get to force what you want on them! They don’t need your girly makeup or the stupid outfits!”

You liked the outfits that Vil had made him.

“Epel stop.”

“Monsieur pomme sauvage, perhaps you should-“

“Not everyone’s like you Vil.” He spat, derision dripping from his lips. “And you’re not going to drag them into all this useless shit you keep pushing on me! I’m not going to let you turn them into some kind of pathetic princess for one of your stupid shows! They’re not weak like that! I’M not weak like that! So FUCK OFF!”

Epel spun to face you, to drag you out of the room away from his now eerily silent Housewarden.

He froze when saw your expression.

You don’t know what he saw but you suspected it had something to do with the hollow feeling in your chest.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

You saw something in his eyes that you were too hurt to understand at the moment.

You silently pulled your wrist from his hold and without a word, left the room. Left the dorm.

He didn’t come after you.

You had known Epel as long as you could remember.

You knew he hadn’t meant what he said.

You knew he didn’t think you were weak or silly or ridiculous.

But things had started to change while you were at NRC. You had started to change, grow and experience things you never had before. Cultures and habits so different from your small country home. A home you still loved, still wanted to return to, but one that you could now see wasn’t the whole world as you had once thought it to be.

You didn’t like everything here. You didn’t like how certain foods were restricted to certain days in Heartslabyul – that did seem silly to you – and you could agree that Vil-senpai was a little too strict on what he expected of his housemates’ presentation to be at all hours of the day.

But there was so much that you did like.

You liked being creative with makeup and trying clothes that had certainly never been available in the stores near your town. You liked learning dances and practicing with the other first years and Riddle-senpai. He was stern but kind, now, and never degraded you for not knowing the different waltzes and ballroom dancing that were so common in his Queendom. You liked how pretty things could be with lace tablecloths and polished tea sets.

It was new and interesting and lovely.

But Epel hated it.

Epel hated all of it and while he had regained a lot of his stubborn determination that he once held, he didn’t see what you saw. He didn’t want to be anything like Pomefiore or Heartslabyul. He wanted to be in Savanaclaw where he could prove how strong he was.

You didn’t think he needed to prove anything.

But he still hated it.

You realized there had never been a chance to see him where he hadn't complained about something he didn’t like about Pomefiore or his Housewarden.

Complained about his love of makeup.

Complained that he was vapid and shallow, only caring about looks.

Complained that Vil was hardly a man at all with how he dressed.

So many things that he hated.

So many things that you were starting to like.

But then…did that mean he wouldn’t like you anymore?

If you admitted to liking the makeup and enjoying tea parties where you laughed with friends over pastries…

Would he hate you too?

“Sometimes,” Cater-senpai had said as he patted your head. “People change. Sometimes that change brings people together…sometimes it pushes them apart.” He glanced over to where Trey-senpai was helping their housewarden with the hedgehog pens. “There’s not much you can do about that but stay true to yourself.”

“But I…I don’t know who I am without Epel.”

“Then maybe you should find out.”

Epel didn’t text you.

For a week neither of you called or texted or interacted with each other at all.

It was…it hurt.

You hated it.

The other Heartslabyul boys didn’t miss your dispirited mood and did their best to spend time with you. Ace, Deuce, Jaq, Kai, Hachi, and Sei dragged you into every ‘first years only’ get together they had. Trey always seemed to need an extra pair of hands in the kitchen whenever he saw you. Cater would insist that you were the only one that could help him with his Magicam videos.

And Riddle-senpai decided that you needed extra tutoring and so would spend evenings going over homework with you – sometimes with the other first years or Trey and sometimes just the two of you.

It left you with little chance to miss Epel except when you were alone in bed, shivering as you couldn’t quite warm up despite the heavy velvet blankets.

But…you started to have fun again.

It was nice having friends, so many friends that were there to tease and support you. To urge you into what you liked and to try new things but also didn’t hold back from playfully insisting that you were the ‘Heartslabyul Princess’ now.

The one time Riddle-senpai heard that he blushed such a dark shade of crimson that you were afraid he would pass out.

You wished you could share it with Epel. You wished he could see all the great things you saw.

“Then you should show him.”

You glanced up to see Riddle watching you from across the table, expression serious and thoughtful.

“Tell him how you feel and what makes you happy. If he does not accept that…then he is not good enough for you.”

Those words didn’t make sense at all to you. Epel was the best. He was amazing in so many ways, he was…he was Epel.

If anything, you weren’t good enough for him.

“If he cannot see you as you are and respect that, love you for it, then he is a fool.”

“Ah, there you are little potato.”

You looked up from where you had been wandering down the halls in the direction of the library. Vil and Rook stood before you, perfect as always. You thought you saw a flash of something in the Housewarden’s eyes, but it was gone too quickly to understand.

“Vil-senpai, Rook-senpai, it’s nice to see you. Did you need my help with something?” you asked, uncertain why they would approach you when you hadn’t been around their little ‘apple’ for weeks.

“Nothing of consequence.” Vil assured as he pulled a liner from his pocket.

It was the exact shade of crimson that he had decided was best for your complexion before Epel had interrupted you.

You blinked as he held it out and then placed it in your hand.

“I simply noticed that your lines are not as smooth. Your old one must have started to dry out so you this one instead and be sure to put the cap back on securely after each use.”

Your eyes widened as you looked up at the gorgeous upper-classman and stammered what you hoped was a ‘thank you’. It must have at least been passable since the Housewarden’s glossy lips pulled into a bemused smile before he moved to continue on past you.

“W-wait!” you said suddenly, not really sure why you were doing this.

You could just text.

You could call.

But you were terrified.

Vil paused to glance back at you, an elegant eyebrow arched in question.

“Vil-senpai, is….I-I mean…” you swallowed thickly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “H-how is…”

When it was obvious you couldn’t manage to finish what you were trying to say, he simply gave a soft huff of a sigh.

“Seeing as how you are not nearly as troublesome as your fellow dormmates, I suppose I will allow you to continue to visit Pomefiore. So long as you act accordingly, of course.”

Your heart leaped in year chest and Rook flashed a cheeky smile your way.

“Oui, we have quite missed your lovely visits, petit coeur.” He winked. “Our talented magift team will be practicing this afternoon but I’m sure a treat of the apple pie you baked last time would be greatly enjoyed.”

A bright smile bloomed on your face and you quickly nodded.

“Y-yes! Yes, I’ll be there!” you said quickly before spinning on your heels and darting back the way you came.

You had some baking to do after all and not very long to make it perfect.

Maybe you could talk to Epel and figure this all out.

It would be okay.

Epel didn’t know if he hated Vil more…or himself.

He tried so many times. Opened your text thread so often and typed out so many different apologies he had stopped keeping count.

And each time he had frozen.

Each time his thumb had hovered over the ‘send’ but been unable to gather the courage to press it.

The expression on your face would flash through his memory and he would desperately erase whatever he had been trying to say, knowing none of it would be good enough.

Growing up together you had squabbled before, of course. It was what kids did.

With it just being the two of you, though, there had been no other choice but to make up if you didn’t want to be friendless for the rest of your lives.

And none of the fights had been like…this.

Nothing he had ever said or did had caused you to look…had hurt you so deeply.

Like he had grabbed one of Rook’s hunting knives and stabbed it into your chest with his own two hands.

What could he say, what could he do to make up for that?

He didn’t even really get it.

He didn’t understand why you were warming up to Vil or Rook. He didn’t get why you were so willing to eat lunch with the other Heartslabyul boys when he was right there. Why you let Cater paint you up and then plaster your picture all over his Magicam page with tags like #Heastlabyulprincess or #twocuteiestoocute for everyone to see. Why you didn’t mind when your Housewarden would stand so close to you while fixing your uniform.

Why did he have to fight everyone else off just to enjoy some time alone with you now?

You were his best friend!

He was your best friend!

Wasn't he?

Why did you care about these other guys now over him?

Couldn’t you see how much he loved you? How much he wanted to be the perfect guy for you? Wanted to make you proud to be with him and hang on his arm. Wanted you to know that he would protect you like you had protected him?

Did you not think he could?

Did you not think he was good enough?

Had watching Vil paint him and dress him up like a doll make you think that he wouldn’t be able to keep you safe? That he would leave you to go with Vil into some celebrity fantasy that his annoying Housewarden kept blabbering on about? As if he could possibly be happy with all this frilly shit instead of a small cottage with you near the orchard that he would inherit, and you would both care for together?

Clearly, he had to prove to you that you were what he wanted. That no matter what stupid house he had been put into or the stifling rules that the tyrant was strangling you with, he would be the same. He wouldn’t let it change who he was. He would always be the boy you had grown up with and held against nightmares and picked leaves out of your hair when you would both jump into piles of them during the fall.

He would be the anchor for you in this ridiculous school that obviously didn’t see how amazing you were just as you always had been.

He would prove it to you.

He just needed to make himself better first. He needed to learn what he could from the strong students at NRC and prove to them all that he wasn’t the delicate little flower that Vil was trying to turn him into.

He tried talking with Rook first, of course, since he was the most easily accessible – and really the guy was rather terrifying despite that ridiculous haircut and personality – but he could only understand about a third of the weirdness he spouted off so Epel gave up on that avenue quickly.

Leona was the second person he tried attaching himself to. The prince was everything he wished he could be. Tall, strong, fearsome. No one would dare try to say he was weak and even if they did they would regret it.

Unfortunately, the Savanaclaw Housewarden wasn’t the mentoring type and even though he was the magift captain all of his ‘training’ and help revolved around the game and that was it. He barely gave Epel the time of day outside of the field. He even tried bugging Ruggie for hints of what the lion might suggest but the hyena just rolled his eyes and brushed him off like all the rest.

It was only when he stubbornly attached himself to Jack’s side and refused to let go of the wolf’s track jersey until he agreed to give him pointers, that he was able to make progress.

“I don’t get what you’re trying to do.” The therianthrope admitted as he ran his hand through his hair exasperated. “I’m not trying to be ‘manly’ or whatever. I’m just being me. If you’re trying to get stronger, though, I guess working out more and doing weights might help.” He shrugged. “I jog with Vil-senpai in the mornings. You’re welcome to joi-“

“No!” Epel snapped angrily, not wanting to have to spend even more time around the older teen than he already did.

Jack rolled his eyes.

“Fine, whatever, I weight lift every other day and there’s a gym in Savanaclaw. If you want to join me it shouldn’t be a problem as long as you don’t keep trying to pick fights with my housemates. Leona-senpai is getting annoyed at all the noise.”

Epel beamed up at his new friend, nearly bouncing on his toes.

“Great! I’ll be there!”

You might not be talking with him at the moment but just wait, he’ll be super manly when you did and he’ll sweep you off your feet!

“So who is it that you’re trying to impress? Not that I care or anything.” Jack said after one of their now regular workouts together, running a towel over his face.

Epel sputtered, face flaming as he quickly hid it in his own towel with the excuse of wiping off the sweat that had gathered.

“N-no one! Why would you think I’m trying to impress anyone!? I just want to get stronger!” he said, though the unusual pitch of his voice gave his lie away easily even if Jack couldn’t practically smell it on him already.

The wolf raised an eyebrow down at the shorter boy and Epel stubbornly looked away, draping the towel around his neck and busying himself with fixing the short ponytail he had pulled his hair into.

“Sure.” The wolf snorted under his breath. “Then who are you not trying to impress? Your Housewarden? That Heartslabyul friend of yours?”

“Why would I want to impress Vil!?” he hissed instantly, ruffling at the very idea.

It only made him look like an angry little kitten.

“So it’s the little heart princess?”

“Princess!? Don’t call them that!” he snapped back. “They’re not like Vil, okay! They’re strong and brave! They wouldn’t be a princess.”

Jack just wrinkled his nose at him.

“What are you talking about? Vil isn’t weak and what in the Seven’s kind of fairytales have you been reading?” he asked dryly. “More than half of our school’s founders were fierce Queens that no one could stand up against.”

He gave a derisive snort.

“That’s different, Jack. Besides, it’s not going to matter because I’m going to get stronger and then join Savanaclaw with you. Then I won’t have to worry about Vil or whatever stupid play or modeling practice he comes up with.”

“I thought you said the Headmage said you couldn’t change houses.” The wolf asked as they exited the Savanaclaw mirror and started towards Pomefiore.

He usually followed him to at least give a hello to Vil before he started on his afternoon run.

“Yeah, well I’ll change his mind.” Epel said firmly, tilting his chin up stubbornly as they stepped through the mirror and started up the perfectly manicured walk to the elegant castle.

“Right, well, when you join Savanaclaw you’d better be ready for initiation. They’re not going to go easy on someone with a face like yours.” He warned.

“Oh yeah, well they’ll just find out what I can do!” Epel grinned viciously, already imagining himself in the leather and yellow uniform.

How cool he would look and how he could impress you by taking down all the therianthrope and taller humans that wanted to bully him for his face. The same ones that he knew would try to tease you for the Heartslabyul tea parties and makeup. He’d show them how cool you were too and then you could come with him! You’d look great in leather!

He just had to figure out the best way to words things so that you’d know how sorry he was for not being able to make Vil leave you alone.

Epel’s day dreams were cut off, though, when he started towards the grand staircase up to the dorm room floors and heard your voice call out to him. He froze, not having expected to see you so suddenly and definitely not at his dorm around the other Pomefiore students.

He looked over to see you coming from one of the side parlours. Your smile was small and unsure but warm as always. Clearly awkward but at least not with that hollow look in your eyes anymore.

“Hi, Pel.” You said, your gaze flicking over to Jack for a moment before back to him. “I…uh, Vil-senpai said you would be out of practice but then Stefan said you had gone to Savanaclaw to meet a friend. I’m not…interrupting, right?”

“N-no, not at all! This is Jack, Jack meet my best friend.” He said quickly, telling him your name before focusing on you again. “I just wasn’t expecting you. It’s…nice to see you.” He admitted, something in his chest settling as he hadn’t seen you in so long and it felt like a breath of fresh air having you beside him again.

Warmth flooded your eyes and he watched the little heart on the corner of your mouth dimple that made him wonder why people thought he was cute when you were right there.

Still, he saw the clear signs that his Housewarden had gotten his hands on you. Your eyes were lined even more elaborately than usual with a mix of crimson and gold. Your heart was shimmery as if an extra layer had been added to your normal design. Your hair was even up in a style that he had seen Cater post on his Magicam.

Epel had watched the video of the older teen’s hands brush through and fix your hair while narrating what exactly he was doing and what kinds of hair types the style would go with until he had it memorized. The only reason he hadn’t watched it on mute was every now and then you’d make a comment or laugh at one of Cater’s jokes and he had missed the sound of your laugh so much it physically hurt.

He remembered how Cater’s fingers had lingered along your neck or tucked accessories into place so gently and he couldn’t help but scrunch his nose.

“Come on, you can come up to my room and get all that mess off you.”

He saw Jack wince out of the corner of his eye and quickly make an exit, but he was focused on you. He reached for your hand but you wouldn’t let him pull you up the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, glancing into the parlour where he could see his Housewarden and Rook chatting quietly around an overly decorated table with tea and what he thought was apple pie.

He was surprised that Vil actually allowed such an unhealthy food in his dorm.

“Epel…I wanted to talk with you.” You finally said, pulling his gaze back, though your smile was a little more uncertain before.

“Sure, come on, you can spend the night. Nan sent me some of our normal soap so you wash off that flowery shit.” He said, hoping to entice you to stay with him.

It’d be like back home. He could hold you close and keep you warm like a real boyfriend would.

He could ask you to let him be your boyfriend.

He didn’t understand why your smile kept fading.

“Epel…I know you don’t like Pomefiore. I know you don’t agree with what Vil-senpai is trying to teach-“

“Force.” He interceded.

“…force you to do. I talked with him. He said maybe we can try different things. You don’t have to do everything exactly like him. We can find our own styles together and-“

“I have a style!” he pointed out, feeling a bit defensive now.

Why had you been talking with Vil and not him?

Why did you seem to want to be around everyone else except him?

“I know you do, Epel, and I like you the way you are. That doesn’t mean we can’t try things though, right? It’s like the lemon crisps Trey-senpai made. Riddle-senpai said it’s best to try it so you can find out what you like and don’t like. I didn’t like it but I’m glad I tried it at least. I tried the treacletarts even though I didn’t think they looked good and I ended up really liking them. Maybe if you tried different things you could find some things you do like. Things that we can do together and-“

“Is Vil forcing you into this? Hm?” he finally snapped, gripping onto your hand tighter. “You shouldn’t listen to him, you know. He wants to turn you into one of his little dolls. He wants to use you as an accessory and then throw you away. You don’t need any of that stuff! You don’t need to stay in Heartslabyul. We can go to Savanaclaw together and-“

“But I like it!”

He blinked.

“What?”

Your fingers trembled in his.

“I like learning about makeup, Epel.” You said softly, eyes hurt and unsure but also not backing down. “I like baking with Trey-senpai and trying different hairstyles. I like seeing the different kinds of clothes that Vil-senpai designs even if I don’t want to wear them all. I like dancing and reading and tea parties. I like magift and flying. I like climbing trees. I like playing croquet with the flamingos and hedgehogs. I like it and I don’t want to stop or leave.”

Epel’s chest was tightening, and he didn’t understand why you were saying this.

“But you look better without it.” He said desperately, trying to make you understand.

Wishing you would see what he saw. How people were changing you.

He just wanted his best friend back.

He wanted things how they used to be.

“Then why are you trying to change?” you finally ask in a small voice. “You keep saying how you’re going to get ‘stronger’ and ‘manlier’. What if I like you the way you are too?”

Epel’s nose wrinkled again in disgust.

“Stop teasing me. Don’t you think I know what others say about me? How even people from our town still call me ‘cute’ when I’m already sixteen!? I’m not a kid! I’m not some pretty princess that’s going to dress up and smile for a camera! I’m not going to let them talk about me like-“

“THEN STOP CARING ABOUT WHAT OTHERS THINK!” your voice broke, wobbling as Epel just didn’t understand.

“I never thought you were weak or less ‘manly’ than anyone else!” you added, neither of you noticing that the other Pomefiore students had been quickly ushered out of the foyer by their Housewarden and Vice-Housewarden. “You're the one that thinks that! You are the one that’s trying to force me to do what you want, not Vil-senpai!”

Epel’s eyes widened as you pulled your hand away again.

He felt your fingers slipping from his grasp and his breath went with it.

You were shivering.

“I don’t want you to change into something you don’t want to be…I don’t want you to force yourself to be something you’re not.” You whispered, lip trembling. “But I’m not going to let you force me to be something you want, either.”

“I…wait, stop, it’s okay. I don’t mind you liking that stuff! Really!” he said desperately, grabbing at your shoulders to prevent you from leaving. “I think you’re cute with or without makeup! It’s fine! And if you want to stay at Heartslabyul that’s okay too! You-…you could spend the night over in Savanaclaw with me sometimes! And you can try all the stuff you want before we go home! I don’t mind! Really! We can tell nana and your pop and I bet they’ll all laugh about it! It’ll be great and it’s okay if you’re a princess, right? You’d make a much better princess than me anyway and-“

“So…it’s okay to be a princess?”

“Yes! Yes definitely!” Epel said, trying to figure out what the right thing to say was.

What he needed to say to make you stay.

To not lose his best friend.

“But it’s only okay if I’m the princess.” Your tone was…he wasn’t sure.

Something was wrong and he could tell but he didn’t know why he was suddenly so terrified. Why it felt like you were already out of his reach.

“I-…”

“Because you don’t want to be a princess because they’re weak. They’re silly and shallow. It’s okay if I’m one though. It’s okay if I’m silly and shallow and weak.”

“That’s not…that’s not what I meant.” He swallowed thickly, realizing that maybe…maybe he should have listened more to Rook and watched how he said things…

“I know what you meant.”

No. No you didn’t understand. You didn’t understand how much he needed you to be with him. How he just wanted you back. How he wished neither of you had come to NRC at all.

You could have stayed at his orchard for your entire lives. You could have gotten married and grown old together and maybe even had kids someday or adopted. He would have made you so happy. You would have been so much happier than the hurt and resigned state you were now.

He wouldn’t have had to feel you letting go.

“Wait…” he whispered as you took a step back and out of his grasp. “You can’t leave…please, you can’t…”

“You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do, Epel.” You said sadly. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll forget about me soon…it’s not like you seem to like who I am anymore, anyway.”

Epel couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe.

Just like he had been on the riverbank years ago, he could only watch as you disappeared from view.

But this time there was no one there to drag you back to him.

Because he was the one who pushed you away.

That winter break he slipped wordlessly out the back door, ducking his head away from the worried looks his grandparents sent him.

The trudge to the treehouse was unusually silent with a fresh blanket of snow heavy on the ground with only the crunch of it under his boots breaking it.

He climbed up the rope and pushed open the trapdoor, hearing it creak in protest after being unused for so long.

He would need to oil the hinges.

Things were exactly as they had been left. The blankets still rumpled in the corner, a couple of books you had been reading stacked on the small end table, the sparkly rock that you had found while treasure hunting still decorating the shelf above the window.

But you weren’t there.

After the argument you had had, the other Heartslabyul boys had apparently named him enemy of the state and done everything they could to keep him from being able to talk to you. To apologize. To do something to make you see just how sorry he was and how much he missed you.

He even tried talking to Rook about how to get you to understand how much he needed you.

The hunter just gave him a sad, almost disappointed look.

“Aa, but that is the thing, pomme sauvage.” He said gently, patting his shoulder. “Have you asked them what they need?”

He hadn’t been able to answer.

He put in the request to move to Savanaclaw again, and this time Vil did not refuse it.

He was glad about that. It made it easier. And Savanaclaw was great! Really! He loved how free it was and hanging out with the others and he could focus on training for magift and working out with Jack. The uniform was way more comfortable and so cool!

It didn’t seem to matter anymore when he watched the Heartslabyul Housewarden slide off his uniform jacket to drape around your shoulders.

He suddenly didn’t care that no one forced him to fix his hair in the mornings before class when he watched the red head escort you with all the chivalry of a knight.

It was all pointless as he watched you smile and laugh, bringing a softness to your Housewarden’s face that only you seemed to be able to cause. Listen to you chatter about random things the way you used to with him, only for it to be directed at Riddle now instead.

Watched as he treated you so kindly but with so much respect, like an actual princess.

Watched as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

You had gotten permission from your parents to stay with some of the other Heartslabyul boys over the break.

He only learned about this because they had told his grandparents.

Epel crawled over to the blankets and didn’t even bother shaking them out before wrapping them around himself and trying to block out the world.

You should have just let him fall through the ice.

It would have been less painful.

==================

Whelp I did not mean for this to become so long and rambly but it just kept going and getting angstier. (Blame Ciel, they supported the angst brainrot) This really was supposed to be a cute fluffy Childhoodfriend! AU but turned into kind of a character analysis-ish on Epel's views on masculinity and such. I don't hate Epel but he's a dumb teenage boy with a complex and he doesn't always know how to see past his own views. Hopefully he'll grow!

Tell me what you think <3

#pinkskytwst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #disney twst #twst fanfic #twst vil #twst rook #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #twst epel #epel felmier #epel x reader #twst riddle #riddle/reader #epel/reader #riddle rosehearts

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