#she was v appreciative lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inklore · 1 year

Text

code breaker

premise: there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.

pairing: joel miller x (f)reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).

note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and i’m actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is i’m sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so don’t be an ass and steal it tysm <3

There’s words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for me…

But they just can’t seem to come out. The speech part of your brain—and your heart—aching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joel’s name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joel’s weight off of the bloodied body below it.

The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesn’t state it—show it as he grips the steering wheel. You’ve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.

You know for certain your ex's face is.

Good.

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the bar, your job. Hadn’t expected him to start in on the possessive act—coincidently the local patrons were less than surprised at the all-too-cliché behavior. The town having labeled him as bad news ages ago. Something you had to learn the hard way, when you finally took off those rose colored glasses.

Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.

"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another.

"Yeah, he’s not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."

"Can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."

"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. I’ve seen her make jocks cry."

"That’s my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlish—and foolish—spark in your stomach.

Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days.

A girl can dream.

And she has. Embarrassingly.

The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.

An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadn’t taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God.

And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of air—when Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyes—that adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity.

Gratefulness.

Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you?

When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings.

He’s worried he’s upset you. As if he's done something wrong.

When he insists on driving you home you don’t argue. Wouldn’t dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.

That’s the thing about Joel.

He was always there.

If you needed help, he always seemed to find time.

Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadn’t sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasn’t gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before.

And after he’s pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, it’s Joel who finally speaks.

Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over.

"I’m sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped."

And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"

"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ain’t ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone."

"Hey! I could punch someone."

"Could and would are two different things."

"You sayin I couldn’t?"

"I’m sayin' you wouldn’t."

"Not tough enough?"

"Your heart's too big."

"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, you’d think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because he’s grinning at you. "You’re lucky you’re injured."

"I’m shaking in my boots."

"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn. On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But he’s a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.

There’s a list you’ve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.

"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didn’t hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."

He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word you’re saying, even if you know he hates the fact that you’re thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.

Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his hand—the one spot the blood didn’t cake on to. "Does it hurt?"

"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, it’s nothing more than a cat scratch."

"You should still get it looked at."

"You’re looking at it, aren’t ya?"

Your eyes roll. "I’m not a doctor, Joel."

"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."

"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didn’t get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."

"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and you’re tellin me you make that in tips?"

"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out.

A hiss—and a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown men—has Joel’s hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red.

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt?" You smirk playfully.

"Whiskey’s wearin' off," he grunts.

"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution you’ve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "You’re human after all," his eyes roll.

"Don’t alert the press."

"Oh, they’ve already been informed."

His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aids—the only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insisted—from falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness he’s never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldn’t be making you feel feverish and cheeky.

When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing you’d worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isn’t written all over your face when you look over at Joel and he’s staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion he’s feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting.

After the band-aids have been stuck and you’ve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink.

"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."

"She’s with a friend tonight."

"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joel’s outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him.

He snorts, "don’t know about all that."

"I’m sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin.

"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "She’ll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"

"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."

"It’s deadly."

"Truly."

"I’m sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money."

You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be.

But to you—and those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked on—you knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say.

"You’re a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasn’t?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like they’ve seen better days—is in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.

No one had acted as quick as Joel had.

Joel Miller was a good man.

"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know.

Couldn’t answer that question with the full truth because you didn’t know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldn’t kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.

Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldn’t take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma.

So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind.

"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because it’s not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and they’ve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least you’re not lonely, and your house smells really good."

The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joel’s face. See that he’s finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle.

"Or maybe it’s as cliché as saying I haven’t found the right one yet." You try to save, nervously chuckling under your breath. In hopes that he forgets everything you’ve just said and clings to this one shitty joke.

"Look at me."

You do, and you wish you hadn’t. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadn’t imagined this being in your future when you’d walked into work. But you’re looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks.

There’s a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and you’ll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.

What you don’t expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now.

When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldn’t speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything you’re feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?"

"A what—pity kiss?"

"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?"

Joel’s breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone who’d pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didn’t just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, I’m either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."

"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?"

"Exactly."

There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.

"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was you…flirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please don’t say Tommy."

"No. If I had listened to him we’d be–" he doesn’t finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath.

And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasn’t your forte, maybe you couldn’t do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didn’t hesitate.

"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.

An agreement.

"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know you’ll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks.

"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his.

"Yes, ma’am." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so you’re grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders.

Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.

Your heart feels as if it’s beating a hole through your chest, like it’ll fall into Joel’s hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. He’s taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one.

His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him.

The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you can’t stand not having him inside of you.

He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beard—scalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl.

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until it’s pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.

If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.

The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers.

You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks he’s leaving on your inner thigh—all a certain type of torture you don’t think you’re strong enough to put up with right now.

You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but he’s speaking before you can.

"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.

The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth.

It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didn’t think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs.

Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands you’ve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until you’re panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joel–fuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence.

Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joel’s fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until he’s reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.

The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked.

"You’re overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.

"Do you wanna change that?"

The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously." There’s a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that he’s fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.

It can be all about you.

It is all about you.

You deserve nothing less.

His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken.

Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless you’d rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."

"I caused?" His brows shoot up.

"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl away—a problem you foresee in the near future.

The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis.

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure first—to taste—and take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.

He wasn’t thinking about himself after the fact. Wasn’t rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.

You really did date assholes.

Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until you’ve reached where he’s hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging.

"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth.

He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesn’t actually want to push it past the points you’ve already reached. Maybe it’s too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendship—even if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center.

He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because he’s scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like I’m some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I don’t have-"

And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.

"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection.

"Glad I’m amusin’ to you."

Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far you’ve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "I’m good if you are."

I’m clean.

I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I don’t want any surprises.

We’re protected.

Now take me already.

The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lip—speaks for you.

It’s all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until he’s completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag.

And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when he’s grunting and you’re begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where he’s pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until there’s no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.

"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way you’re learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you need—more, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back.

There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight.

When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel.

"Sound s’pretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice he’s already pushed you from. "Can’t believe I held myself back from you."

"Joel."

"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, t’not love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock.

"That’s it, sweetheart." He’s encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swish—bit into your skin as Joel comes not long after.

And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spine—there’s cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommy’s going to have a heyday."

"He owes me fifty bucks."

There’s faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"

"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though."

"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully.

"I ain’t soft." He grumbles.

"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so you’re on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."

"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.

"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fluff #the last of us smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fic #pedro pascal fics #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction

5K notes · View notes

redstarwriting · 11 months

Text

the clash | v. ever fallen in love

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses

a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)

previous chapter: iv. london calling

now reading: v. ever fallen in love

next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

───────────────────────────────────

It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”

“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.

“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”

“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.

He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.

Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.

“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”

“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”

“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”

“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”

“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”

“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”

“I fuckin’ don’t!”

“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”

The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.

Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”

“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.

“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”

“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.

He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”

Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.

“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”

“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”

“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?

This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.

He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”

You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”

“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”

“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”

“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”

“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”

“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.

And you could tell his.

“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”

“How could you even tell?”

You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”

He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.

“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”

“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”

“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah… it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“Let me see.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”

“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”

“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”

“I can’t reach back there myself.”

“Then ask someone else to do it.”

“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”

“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.

“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”

“I guess.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno.”

“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”

“But–”

“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”

“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.

He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

@444neapolitain @afraidofshrimp @arianalovescatss* @aroaceg @astrok1dz @baefy3764 @casmosmoon* @chill-guy-but-cooler @d1nne @dotheyevenknowmars @f1shb0nez @faerieluuv @fisshil @fukingsad @fushiguropleasesteponme* @friendly-reject @hisdarlingabsurdity @idk-i-draw @imarealfungi @imobsessedreader* @ineedsomeconfidence @inkthgoat @iwillrisefromthefire @j3st3r-13 @jingliuu @jjkclub @katiebug0603 @kenqki @khaleesihavilliard @kittekat420 @lacunaanonymoused @localbeidousimp @marshallowy @mistpx* @miwagila @naarra* @nikabearr @pookiesnatcher @queen-of-the-bored @queen-of-the-grapefruits @sadbitchhours400* @scoliobean @sillylittleguyinc @simplefools* @siriusly1 @sparklyphantom @stevenknightmarc @sxftiebee @thatweirdgirlsposts @valee1xoxo* @weyrrii* @wheeeelys @woahrin* @xoxobabe* @zero-boxes

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

if you asked to be on the taglist and i forgot, i’m sorry :( feel free to leave a comment on this or message me separately and i’ll get you right onto it!

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #hobie #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

2K notes · View notes

wwinterwitch · 2 years

Text

SEX, DRUGS, ETC - s.h., e.m.

summary: just steve, eddie and reader having a threesome after smoking together. that's it (part two HERE)

relationship: steve harrington x eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5,514

warnings/what to expect: SMUT 18+ (MINORS DNI), this is the filthiest thing i've written and i'm proud, poly dynamics, weed, flirting, threesome, dirty talk, sex while high, i guess you can say eddie is kind of a dom?, and maybe steve is slightly a sub and the reader is low-key a switcher?, thigh-riding, masturbation (m receiving), face sitting, oral (m receiving), multiple orgasms, steve has a praise kink, mentions of spitting(?), p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!!), visiting paris, kinda fluffly at the end idk, i wrote this while high so sorry about any grammar mistake lmao

a reblog and/or comment is always appreciated!

**gif is not mine!! if you know who it belongs to please let me know to credit them

masterlist | AO3

"So how does this work exactly?"

Both you and Eddie chuckled at Steve's question, which immediately made him feel like a complete idiot, frowning slightly as he mentally cursed himself for such a stupid question. In his defense, he really had no idea what he was doing, like...at all.

"Well, you put this in between your lips and when I light it, you inhale as deep as you can, hold it for a sec, and then exhale," Eddie explained. "It's okay if your throat burns a little. It means you're doing it correctly."

"And you always hang out here to smoke?" he asked the two of you just to change the conversation, wanting to avoid even thinking about his previous question.

You and Eddie exchanged a look before you replied, "Mostly."

Steve didn't really understand what that meant but didn't ask any further about it, watching as you leaned to take the joint from Eddie's hand to begin smoking it.

"She only uses me to get free weed," Eddie jokes, earning a playful smack on his arm from you. He smiles, happy to have the response he was expecting. "For a moment I thought she actually liked me."

"Shut up," you laughed it off before taking the first smoke.

Both guys just stared at you as you took a long inhale, taking the joint away from your lips only to let the smoke out a few seconds later. Steve couldn't deny that at this very moment, you looked incredibly hot. There was something about the way you smoked that just made his breath catch in his throat.

In his eyes, you are without a doubt the most attractive girl in Hawkins, and he was surprised when he found out you were so close to Eddie Munson, the freak everyone thought had no friends. How he managed to get you to be inside his trailer every week to smoke with him was beyond Steve's comprehension.

So, as hopelessly romantic as he claims to be, he was willing to join you and Eddie today as an excuse to hang out with you.

He watched as you passed the joint to Eddie and just when he thought it was Eddie's turn to smoke, the long-haired guy turned to look at him with a smirk. "Wanna give it a try, Harrington?" he teased.

Steve wasn't so sure. He has smoked maybe once or twice in his life but he never understood what was so great about it. Maybe that's because he didn't get high when he tried it. Either way, he was thinking his next move very carefully because he didn't want to make a bad impression with you. What if he chokes? What if he gets so high that you and Eddie have to drive him back home? It'll be humiliating.

But despite that, he decided to agree. Eddie looked beyond excited, turning all his attention to Steve now.

The three of you were chilling in Eddie's room, you and him sitting on his bed and Steve sitting by Eddie's desk. He stood up from the bed and walked towards Steve, kneeling down to be at his height. You couldn't help but stare at the two of them as Eddie put the joint in between Steve's lips, never breaking eye contact.

From where you were sitting, it was evident Steve was surprised by the way Eddie would lean close– too close to him, but he doesn't look like he's going to complain about it any time soon. That seemed to encourage Eddie, resting one of his hands on Steve's thigh and using the other to light the joint.

Steve did as Eddie instructed, the smoke making his throat burn before he quickly put the joint out of his mouth, couching uncontrollably as he let out all the smoke. Humiliating. But he felt reassured when Eddie begins running his hand up and down his thigh in a comforting manner, something Steve wasn't expecting to enjoy so much.

He's in Eddie's trailer for you, sure, but he'd be lying if he acts like being here is such a sacrifice. Eddie Munson could be lots of things. A freak, a nerd, a metalhead with no friends, a weirdo who sell drugs and failed senior year twice. But he's also insanely good looking. Steve can't deny he's rather pretty, especially when he's looking up at him with a half-smile and his hand keeps going up and down his thigh.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, earning a nod from Steve. "You did good, Harrington."

He did good. Shit, what is happening? Why is that compliment suddenly so ground breaking? And why does he already misses Eddie's touch when the guy stood up to walk back to the bed?

You noticed the way Steve looked at Eddie as he walked away, and you could tell exactly what was going on. The way Steve looked at Eddie up and down while he shifts uncomfortably in his chair, perhaps struggling with the sensation still present in his leg where Eddie's hand used to be...it was evident. You've been in his place far too many times not to realize he's as flustered as you've been in the past.

You lost count of the times you'd find yourself sitting in that very same chair, Eddie doing exactly the same thing he just did to Steve. The silent testing. A grip of the shoulder, a gentle touch of the leg, any seemingly innocent gesture that would help him read someone else's body language. Eddie just knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew he got from Steve a very similar reaction he always managed to get from you.

Though Steve was much more evident, and being the one witnessing rather that being subjected to it, you could see what Eddie sees. Perhaps not even Steve realized the effects Eddie had on him. Maybe that's why he wasn't trying to hide in the slightest how flustered he was.

Smirking his way, you patted the empty side on the bed next to you. "Why don't you join us, Steve?"

The invitation seemed innocent, or at least Steve wanted to think that. However, he couldn't shake the idea that you were quite literally inviting him to join you and Eddie on the bed. His thoughts were drifting to a much more darker context, and he tried very hard to act casual as he walked towards you.

That made you realize you also had an effect on him. Not just Eddie.

Lucky for him (or maybe not so much) nothing else happened as the three of you continued to smoke. At some point Eddie turned his record player on, Metallica echoing across every inch of the trailer. Steve was evidently the first one who got high, taking you and Eddie a few more inhales before you joined Steve.

"This feels great," Steve muttered, completely lost in his thoughts. He was laying on the bed now, looking up at the ceiling. A giggle escaped his lips, "I feel great!"

Eddie, still sitting, turned to look at him. "I can't believe I'm smoking weed with the Steve Harrington."

"What does that mean?" he asks, still all giggly.

"Oh, c'mon!" you exclaimed like it was obvious. "The coolest, most attractive, unreachable guy in Hawkins," you added sarcastically, repeating what everyone your age would say about Steve. Not like you thought those statements were false, tho. "We're not the type of people you'd expect Steve Harrington to hang out with."

"Well, then you don't know Steve Harrington at all," he replied, returning to a sitting position. "You forget one of my best friends is literally a fourteen year-old."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at what he said. "I was very wrong about you," he commented.

Steve, feeling bolder now that he was super high, leaned closer to you and therefore closer to Eddie. "And I was very wrong about you."

"Really? And what do you think of me now, Harrington?" Eddie replied, also leaning closer.

You laughed at their clearly flirtatious exchange, standing up from your seat in between them. "Maybe I should give you two more space."

"No. Why? We're all having fun here," Steve protested.

"Yeah, we can all have fun," Eddie agreed, failing to hide the way he was looking at you up and down.

You stood in front of the two guys as they were staring back at you and the image was just...great. The look of need in his eyes, silently begging you to sit back down with them. Oh, this was getting interesting. So interesting, that you couldn't miss your chance to say, "And what are you willing to do for me if I sit back down with you?"

Steve didn't think twice before replying, "Whatever you want us to do."

A smirk formed on your face almost immediately. "Well in that case...I want you to kiss."

Both of them stared at you as if waiting for you to reveal you were joking. When they finally realized you were serious, they exchanged a look before looking back at you.

"What?" Steve asks, visibly nervous.

"You said you'd do whatever I want, and I really want to see you two kiss."

Eddie wasn't complaining at all, so it was only Steve the one that needed more convincing. He looked at you again, trying to figure out if you were joking or not until he came to the realization that you were very serious about this.

To your amusement, Steve turned to look at Eddie and just sat there...as if he was waiting for him to make the first move. Eddie seemed to understand relatively quick, one of his hands moving up to Steve's face, a finger gently tracing his jawline. Steve didn't seem to need any more convincing after that, leaning closer to Eddie until their lips met. As soon as the kiss begin, you could see Steve relax into it, moving his body a little bit closer to Eddie's. Since his hand was still holding Steve's face, Eddie used his thumb to gently pull his chin down, making Steve slightly part his mouth. It was the perfect opportunity for Eddie to put his tongue inside his mouth, turning what was a fairly calmed kiss into a much heated make out session.

Steve let out a barely audible groan at the action, gladly accepting the kiss. Eddie seemed to get encouraged by that reaction, gently pushing Steve so he could be laying on the bed, giving him the perfect opportunity to lay on top of him, legs at each side of Steve's body, straddling him.

The scene in front of you was just perfect. You practically had to close your legs shut to avoid moving on your spot, trying to get even the tiniest bit of friction to release some of your frustration. You continued to watch them intensely make out until Eddie moved back from Steve to look at you. The guy still laying on the bed looked up at Eddie almost mesmerized before looking your way. "Do you wanna join us, baby?" Eddie asks.

"Yes, please," you replied, completely desperate to calm your needs right now.

Eddie grinned, turning to look at Steve now. "What do you think, Harrington? Should we let her join?"

"Uh...y-yeah," Steve quickly agreed.

Both of them got back into a sitting position before Eddie stood up from the bed to grab your hand and gently guide you towards them. When you two reached the edge of the bed, he sat down and opened his legs so you could sit on top of one of them, his arms wrapping around you to keep you in place.

Before he did anything else, he tells Steve, "Your turn to pick the next move."

"What do you mean?" he asks, visibly intrigued to see where this was going.

"You get to choose what we do next."

You and Eddie waited for Steve to give you any sort of instructions, an idea Steve went absolutely crazy about. He couldn't believe the position he was in right now. In a good way, obviously. He was here just to get an excuse to hang out with you and now he's about to have a threesome with you and Eddie Munson. It really couldn't get any better than that.

"I'd love to see her cum on your leg," he confessed, his mouth almost watering at the mere idea of it.

"Shit, Harrington," Eddie hisses, smirking. "I like your thinking."

"You want me to move fast or slow?" you asked.

Steve gulped. "Uh...slow."

You smiled innocently in Steve's direction, putting your hands on Eddie's shoulders as you began to slowly move your hips back and forth. "Like this?"

"Uh-huh," was all he was able to say, almost hypnotized by the sight.

Eddie's hands moved to the side of your hips to pull you impossibly close to his leg, fully rubbing against him. "What do you want to see next?"

This has got to be the best thing that has ever happened in Steve's life. No. It's not an exaggeration.

"Take her clothes off."

Eddie's smile widened, biting his lip when you rocked your hips at a faster speed, eager to have his hands all over you. The fact that you were still very much high made you feel everything just a hundred times more intensely. He took your jacket off before removing your t-shirt, leaving you only with your bra, skirt and panties. His mouth begin attacking your neck, too desperate to get more of you to wait for Steve's further instructions. As he kissed and bite your skin, a hand gently massaged one of your tits.

You turned to look at Steve, "You like watching us, huh?" you teased, eyeing the bulge in his pants. Steve looked back at you, embarrassed. An answer from his part wasn't necessary. "Would you like me to help with that?"

Steve nodded almost immediately after your question, allowing you to palm him over his pants, making him let out a sound that let you know he was surprise but very much aroused by your action. Eddie smirked against your neck, realizing what you were doing.

"Take your pants off, Harrington," Eddie mutters against your neck, as if it was the obvious thing to do.

Steve was still blushing a dark shade of red, but regardless of his embarrassment he stood up and unbuckled his belt, both his jeans and boxers gone. Your mouth almost watered at the sight, not expecting him to be this big.

One of your hands wrapped around his fully erect cock and he lets out a loud groan at the sensation of your soft hand moving up and down so perfectly. Eddie noticed you were getting distracted with jerking Steve off, moving his hands to his ass so it was him the one making you grind against his leg.

Eddie showed you no mercy whatsoever, the slower pace you carried just seconds ago immediately went faster and faster. Your available hand tangled in his hair as you hold him close, trying to keep your balance. He only stopped to remove your bra before his hands returned to your hips.

He would leave tiny kisses all around your tits before putting them inside his mouth, taking his time with each of them. He'd make sure to tease you with his tongue, circling it around your sensitive nipples.

As seconds passed, your orgasm began building at the very pit of your stomach, making your hand around Steve's cock become sloppy and the rhythm you had got lost, masturbating him at any pace your brain could manage to instruct you, so close to cum on top of Eddie's leg to care about anything else.

You moved back to find Eddie's lips, smashing your lips against him as you were so incredibly close to your orgasm, your moans muffled against his mouth as he continued to make you grind against him at a painfully fast pace. You felt a kiss on your bare shoulder, "Cum for us, baby," Steve mutters, sounding more like a plead than an order.

That seemed to be what completely threw you over the age, pulling away from Eddie's kiss to let out your loudest moan yet, reaching your orgasm. Steve continued to leave tiny kisses all around your shoulder blade while Eddie let go of your ass, allowing you to move at your own speed as you climb down from the high of it all.

"You're fucking amazing, you know that?" Eddie says to you once you're a lot calmer. "Can't wait to bent you over and fuck you with my cock. Would you like that, princess?" All you could do was nod before Eddie helped you stand up. "Look at the mess you made," he commented, staring down at the stain on his jeans.

"It's your turn to decide what we do now," Steve said towards him, earning an ear-to-ear smile from Eddie as he quickly began taking his vest and jacket off.

"Oh, I know exactly what we can do next," he says excitedly. "How about you sit on that pretty face of his while I suck him off?"

The image on your head alone was enough to turn you even more– if that was even possible at this point. You watched as Eddie stood in between Steve's legs, who was still sitting on the bed, helping him take his long-sleeved yellow shirt off, throwing it to the ground. After that, he gently pushed him back to the bed so he would be with his back against the mattress, but his legs still hanging on the side of the bed.

Steve laid there absolutely mesmerized by everything that was happening around him. You taking off your panties and your skirt while Eddie kneeled in between his legs. "Look my way when you sit," Eddie instructed you, sending a smile your way.

Again, Steve had no idea how he got so lucky.

Both of your knees pressed against the mattress before gently lowering closer to Steve's face. The gentleness of the gesture only lasted a few seconds because he quickly grabbed your hips and practically buried his face in between your legs, almost making you scream at the sudden sensation of his wet tongue quite literally devouring you. Eddie still wasn't doing anything, simply watching your face as Steve did his job.

"You like what he's doing to you, sweetheart?" he asked. "Do you like having Steve's tongue all over your pussy?"

"Y-yes," you were able to reply.

Steve was just too good at this, not like you were expecting any different. He was an absolute expert with his tongue, knowing exactly what to do and when to do it. This has got to be the best oral sex you've ever had.

He would lick up and down your slick, making sure to take his extra seconds pleasing your clit, twirling his tongue all around it at just the right speed and sucking on it so incredibly good you couldn't hold all the moans escaping your lips. And then he would go back down, focusing on licking your hole. At one point, he stuck his tongue out and began fucking you with it.

"Fuck, keep doing that! Keep doing that!" you mumble over and over, your own hips moving with him. "You're so good at this, baby. You're doing amazing...oh shit, you're making me feel amazing."

Steve was definitely a sucker for praise, quickly pulling you back down again to resume his attack on your clit, this time licking and sucking twice as intensely as before, making your moans increase in volume.

And as if Steve eating you out so incredibly good wasn't enough, you had a whole show in front of you. Eddie was kneeling in between Steve's legs, ringed fingers holding him by the base of his dick while he sucked him off. And he was taunting you, looking directly your way with doe eyes as he slowly licked him from the base to the tip, as if he didn't know what a scene like that would make you feel.

With the sensation of your pussy getting absolutely devoured and the image of Eddie's nose rubbing against Steve's happy trail because he has his entire dick inside his mouth quickly got you to your second orgasm. Steve made sure to keep you in place so you wouldn't colapse on top of him, slowing his pace as he tastes your orgasm, your whole body involuntarily spasming every time his tongue would touch you, too sensitive and stimulated not to.

"Holy shit," you muttered, trying to catch your breath. As soon as your body recovered from the orgasm, you climbed down from Steve and laid next to him. His hair was a complete mess and his lips were covered in your juices, some coating his chin and all around his jaw too. He looked beautiful.

You waisted no time to lean over to capture his lips in a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue. One of your hands traveled from his lower belly all the way up to his neck, holding him in place as you two made out.

Steve's groans were almost entirely muffled by your lips as Eddie continued to suck him off. At one point you pulled away just enough to look at him, your faces just inches away. He wanted to continue the kiss, but your hand on his neck kept him from getting closer to you.

"You were so fucking good to me," you muttered, watching Steve whine as your grip of his neck tighten. "Could spend hours riding that gorgeous face of yours."

"I– fuck..." he sighs, back slightly arching as he pressed his head even harder on the mattress. "Can I– shit, is it okay if I cum in your mouth?" he asks, looking down at Eddie who continued to mercilessly suck him off.

Eddie didn't reply, continuing to bop his head up and down at the speed he has been carrying so far. That seemed to be enough answer.

"You want to cum, Steve?" you asked, watching him nod eagerly.

"Yes, please...please, I can't..."

You noticed his desperation and growing need as his orgasm approached. And he looked so hot like this, practically pleading with you to cum. He wanted you to allow him that. You leaned back down to give him a quick peck on the lips before smiling. "You can't cum just yet, baby. Can you hold it back for me?"

"I...I don't..." he manages to let out, a complete mess underneath your grip. "Can try..."

"It'll be worth it, I promise," you reassured him, giving him one last kiss before moving away from him entirely.

Eddie, intrigued by what you had in mind, stopped what he was doing to look at you. You crawled to the edge of the bed where he was kneeling, quickly grabbing his Hellfire Club t-shirt to take it off. Your hands would trail from his shoulders all the way down his chest and abdomen before your fingers found his black belt.

Eager for you to remove the remaining clothing, he stood up, looking down at you as he licked his lips in anticipation of your movements. You easily unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, removing both his jeans and boxers at the same time.

You looked up at him with innocent eyes and it took everything he had to hold back the urge to grab your hair and force his dick down your throat. While this exchange was happening, Steve watched the two of you while he gently traced patterns all across your naked back.

Eddie's dick was already impossibly hard and throbbing, the tip leaking with pre cum. He has been so neglected during this entire time, choosing to please you and Steve before pleasing himself. You had to do something about that.

Your thumb rubbed against his tip incredibly slow, too slow for his liking. A low grunt escaped his lips as he leaned his head back. He looked back down just in time to see you stretch your arm back towards Steve, who quickly grabbed your wrist to suck on your cum-coated thumb.

"You two will be the death of me," Eddie mutters, visibly frustrated, earning a chuckle from you and Steve.

You turned back to look at Eddie, your face once again just inches from his dick but still not touching him, which was driving him insane. He knows you're teasing him.

"I want to take both of you," you say as if it was nothing. As if that wouldn't make the two guys you were with almost lose their minds.

Eddie couldn't hold himself back any longer, pushing you back to the bed to lay on top of you, his lips instantly crashing against yours. His hips would involuntarily rock, his dick rubbing against your lower belly as you continued to kiss. He hold you so close to his body, he was practically jerking himself off in between your bodies.

He only moved back so his hand would guide his dick to your entrance, not penetrating you, just rubbing his tip against you. The sensation made you pull away from the kiss, moaning against his shoulder as you waited for him to fuck you.

But since you teased him before, he wanted his revenge. That meant he didn't move to enter you fully, simply using the tip of his cock to stimulate you.

"Eddie, please..." you whimper, too desperate to think of anything else. You tried to wrap your legs around him as an attempt to force him inside of you, but he grabbed one of your legs to roughly pull it aside, the movement making you spread wider.

"You want us to fuck you, baby?" he asked, ignoring your pleas. His tip continued to rub against you as he looked at you whimper. "Want me to take you from behind while Steve fucks your mouth?"

"Please, please..." you repeated, getting extremely frustrated from not getting what you wanted.

Steve was absolutely amazed by what he was witnessing. The fact that you used to be on top of him, your hand tightly gripping his neck, feeling so confident about yourself, yet now your nothing but a mess of moans underneath Eddie. So vulnerable, completely at their mercy. They could do whatever he wanted and you'd comply because you were just so desperate for them to give you something– anything.

"What do you think, Harrington?" he turned to look at Steve now. "Should we give this needy slut what she wants?"

"She's been good, I think she deserves it," Steve replied, much to your relief.

You practically gasped when Eddie flip you over, making you lay and your knees and hands. Eddie positioned himself behind you while Steve moved to be in front of you.

"Help me out here, would you?" Eddie quickly asks to Steve, extending his open palm for him. Steve seemed to understand almost immediately, spitting on his hand so he could use that to stroke himself before he would enter you.

You were dying for them to do something. While Eddie stoke himself, Steve gathered all your hair in an effort to take as much of it out of your face.

It was Steve the first one to show you mercy, pulling closer to you so his dick would be right in front of your face. You licked a single strap across his length before putting him inside your mouth.

"You're so pretty," he would compliment you, making you increase your speed just enough as he enjoyed your mouth on him.

You bop your head at a comfortable speed before you pulled away. "Please, fuck me. I don't care, just...just fuck my mouth," you said.

"Are you sure?" he asked, not really wanting to hurt you if he was too rough.

"Yes! Fuck my mouth as hard as you want," you replied eagerly, wanting both of them to absolutely wreck you.

Steve didn't seem so sure at first but begin moving his hips to go in and out your mouth. He let out a louder grunt when he felt you moan against him, the sound erupting from you when you felt Eddie entering you from behind.

Both guys were beginning to fuck you, Eddie showing you absolutely no mercy as he rocked in and out of you like his life depended on it. He would bury himself deep inside you before quickly moving back, only to repeat that process over and over at a fast pace. You could feel him stretching you out so good and feeling you up so exquisitely, you knew you wouldn't last long.

Meanwhile, Steve fucked your mouth at a slower pace that Eddie, but said pace was by no means a slow one. He would go deep down your throat as you tried your very best not to gag around him. The tip of your nose occasionally meeting with his lower belly because he was just that deep inside you. The moans you would let out made it just ten times better for him.

Your body was on full ecstasy at the sensation of both guys filling you up and getting off thanks to you. Using you however they wanted to please themselves and, of course, to please you.

It was definitely quite the show the three of you were making. You in the centre of the bed in all fours, one of them fucking your pussy while the other fucks your mouth. All at the same time.

It was a matter of time before Eddie hit a spot inside you that made your eyes roll to the back of your head, wanting him to do it again. And he did just that– again, and again, and again. And all you could do is moan against Steve's cock as you lost yourself in pleasure. One of Eddie's hands found its way to your clit, one of fingers beginning to rub circles on top of it at a painfully fast rhythm.

The sight in front of Steve made him almost subconsciously speed up his pace, entirely focused on the way Eddie was fucking you. A few tears began rolling down your cheeks due to the intensity of it all.

You couldn't take it anymore. You wish you could, but the way they were fucking you was just too good to handle, and you could feel your third orgasm rapidly approaching. You couldn’t say anything, you couldn't let them know what was going on, you couldn't scream their name over and over as you cum, because your mouth was completely full with Steve's cock.

But Eddie seemed to know you were close because on of his hands grabbed your hip hard, probably leaving a bruise later, continuing to rub circles on your clit at an ever faster pace and repeatedly hitting that spot inside you.

"Shit," you heard Steve grunt, looking down at you with a desperate look on his face. "I'm gonna–"

With whatever strength you were able to find, you begin to bop your head again to meet him halfway as he trusts in and out of you. You were looking up at him, practically begging for him to cum in your mouth.

And only after a few seconds, Steve cum hard inside your mouth, his seed filling you as you did your best to take it all, swallowing what you could as more of his semen was poured inside your mouth.

The show seemed to encourage Eddie, and you can practically feel him twitching inside of you while he continued to fuck you.

He took a few moments to recover, his dick still inside your mouth as you finished swallowing what he gave you. When he managed to calm his breathing just enough, he pulled out of your mouth and quickly begin cleaning the tears that still fell from your eyes and fix the mess your hair had become.

Now that you could talk, you managed to let out a series of "just like that", "fuck" and other series of profanities as Eddie repeatedly went in and out of you. You arched your back and leaned down on the bed, the slight change managing to somehow make him go even deeper inside of you.

Just a few rock of his hips were enough to make you cum impossibly hard around him, holding onto Steve's arm as you screamed out Eddie's name, feeling your entire body on fire.

Eddie reached his orgasm just a few moments after you, the sensation of your spasms against him, your cunt contracting all around him, making it impossibly tight as he gave his final thrusts. You let of a tired sigh when you feel him filling you up, ropes of hot cum spilling inside you, partially slipping out and dripping down your leg once Eddie was out of you.

You practically collapsed next to Steve on the bed, Eddie joining the two of you not long after. You removed the hair falling of Steve's forehead affectionately before kissing his cheek.

The three of you got under the covers of Eddie's bed, you in-between the two guys, snuggling closer to Eddie's chest as Steve cuddled you from behind, his arm over your body and his hand landing on Eddie's upper arm, tracing his fingers up and down his skin.

"We can, uh...it's fine if we crash here tonight?" Steve suddenly asked, feeling way too comfortable with the two of you and too exhausted to go back to his house.

"You can stay as long as you want, baby," Eddie replied, grinning at him.

"And you're more than welcome to smoke with us again," you joked, feeling so tired that your eyes practically closed by themselves.

"Can't wait," Steve replied, snuggling his face against your neck to slowly drift into a much needed sleep.

#eddie munson #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #female reader #stranger things x reader #steddie x reader #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #stranger things smut

13K notes · View notes

gracieheartspedro · 7 months

Text

Somewhere With You

Part 4 of How Long

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

FIND Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 HERE!!

description: sleeping with your exes brother is one thing, but envisioning a whole life with him? that's a dangerous game. but you did it. now you're here, and tommy is fucking pissed.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! fear of being caught by sarah?, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING, dirty talk, overstimulation, titty fucking (yw caly), light violence, tommy is literally evil.

author's note: jesus christ i'm so glad I am finally here with this. I feel like finishing this is my greatest success in life lmao. I will probably continue this series but this is the last part for a while. I appreciate everyone's love on it and I can't wait to get more stuff out to y'all!

“Are we going to have a celebration when we get home?”

Joel laughs, “Yeah, we can. What did you wanna do?”

You just listen to Sarah list off all the possible ways to celebrate winning the tournament. The movies, going to the mall for new jeans, going to the local ice cream parlor every night of the week. Joel shakes his head at that one as he turns the truck onto the highway. You have your knees up to your chest, the zip up Joel let you borrow hanging off your shoulders. You had complained about how cold you were all weekend, so Joel shut you up by tossing you his zip up. You haven’t taken it off since.

The sun was setting over the horizon, drawing the Sunday to a close. You had to work in the morning and you were dreading concluding the weekend you spent with Joel and Sarah.

Everything with them seems natural. It felt like family.

You did not want to face tomorrow, especially when there was no set plans as to when you would be hanging out with them again.

Luckily, Sarah has not mentioned much of anything about what she saw early Saturday morning, so there was no awkward tension. The only time it came up was when you all were tired from Saturday’s events and you arrived back to the hotel room.

“You two sleeping together tonight, too?” She asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She wasn’t even trying to be rude or demeaning, she just wanted to know if she could fall asleep in one of the beds without being stirred.

“Yeah, you can have that bed hun.” Joel answered.

Sitting on those horribly uncomfortable bleachers and cheering Sarah on had taken a lot out of you, so you were ready to throw yourself into the plush mattress, too.

You watched Sarah throw herself onto of the comforter, sinking into the pillows face first. It makes you giggle while you grab your pajamas to change.

Joel nudges you while you dig through your duffle, “No funny business tonight, ma’am.”

You shake your head, his comment making your stomach turn upside down with nerves. You smack his chest with the back of your hand, “No duh, asshole.”

Sarah puts her headphones on, drowning out Joel’s humming to an old country song. You just stare ahead, watching him speed pass car after car. His truck revs every time he does it which makes you clench your knees a bit tighter.

“In a rush, dear?”

The nickname makes his heart race.

He taps his fingers, trying to act like that nickname doesn’t drive him insane. “Want to make sure to get you home so you can be rested up for work in the morning.”

“That’s mighty sweet of you, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”

He eases off the gas a bit, taking your advice.

“You talk to your Mama lately? She still likin’ Maine?”

It wasn’t a question you were expecting coming from Joel. You had told him about your mom around the time that she moved away, however long ago that was. You truly didn’t expect him to even remember.

“We talk every week, she likes it there. Wants me to come experience a winter there, so I may go up for Christmas,” You explain, remembering back to conversation you two just had last week. She wanted you to feel what fluffy snow felt like and maybe go skiing with her.

It makes Joel’s heart sink a bit. Not because you would be visiting your mother, but instead you would not be here to spend Christmas with him and Sarah. He had already planned on making a spot for you at the dining table.

“That’d be nice,” He licks his lips, contemplating if he should say what he really wants to say, “‘M bettin’ she misses seein’ your beautiful face everyday.”

You smile, your cheeks burning hot at Joel calling you beautiful. You knew you had to throw him off and give him a sarcastic response to keep him on his toes.

“Gonna freeze my ass off there. May have to borrow some of your flannels.”

He chuckles, tilting his head towards you, “You already havta’ have about four of my t-shirts, now that hoodie. You wanna raid me some more?”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you said I just had to “get with you” to get clothes,” You’re whispering, leaning into him. You don’t want Sarah to hear the words you’re speaking to her father, “How many times do we need to go at it before I get one of those denim jackets you own?”

He peers over at you. You smirk, quirking one eyebrow up.

“You with me to get my clothes or somethin’?”

“That and other things,” You tease, pulling away, leaning your back against the seat again.

Joel peers into the rear view mirror. Sarah is asleep, her headphones blasting her favorite pop album. He tilts his head towards you, his eyes not leaving the road, “You’ll havta remind me of those other things when we get home.”

He could get used to always having you in his passenger seat.

Sarah was dead asleep in the backseat, so you both decided to get all the stuff from the back inside before nudging her awake. You quietly shut the door, grabbing Joel’s one bag from the driveway and slinging it over your shoulder.

You follow close behind him as he unlocks the front door and places Sarah’s stuff on the staircase.

The idea of having to leave made you want to scream. You didn’t feel like driving home and laying lonely in your own bed. You didn’t want to resume your boring life at work. You just wanted him.

This weekend made you realize that you really couldn’t live without him. You’re not only comfortable around him, but he’s exciting. He cracks jokes and compliments you when you don’t expect it. Those couple of months without him were still months he was plaguing your mind, even though he wasn’t physically around you.

You snap out of your thoughts quickly. You start watching Joel’s muscles restrict over his gray t-shirt and it’s enough to send you to your knees. You didn’t even realize how crazy he was driving you. His messy curls that were trapped under a hat most of the weekend are finally loose and curling up his neck. And the way his jeans hugged his ass while he walked away from you? You didn’t know how long to could refrain from telling him you needed him, right this second.

“I may call out tomorrow. Too tired to sit on my computer all day and run reports,” You say while he wonders back to you from his bedroom down the hall. You’re hoping it leads to an offer.

He nods, tossing his keys on the entry table next to you,“Yeah, I am off tomorrow. Have to get this house in order and make sure Sarah actually wakes up for school in the morning.”

No offer. Maybe you could propose it?

“Maybe I could just spend the night.”

The air is thick instantly with tension. You can hear the hitch in his throat. Once you say it, you realize how desperate you must sound. But you want to be able to lay next to him again. You want and need him.

“If that’s what you wanna do, sweetheart. I don’t mind none. Love havin’ you here.”

He grabs your waist lazily, pulling you into his chest. The connection sends chills down your arms.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to you to think I’m being needy.”

He doesn’t even hesitate, he just bows his head to capture your lips with his, giving you a slow sensual kiss. You move your hands up to his neck, pulling him down further into you, eager to be close to him.

When he realizes that’s where it’s going, he pulls up for air.

“Lemme go get the last couple bags and get Sarah inside.”

As he says that, the door flings open behind you. A sleepy Sarah blinks at both of you, shaking her head instantly when she sees her Dad’s arms wrapped around you. You push back, flinging yourself backwards and away from Joel.

“Can you lovebirds do that somewhere else,” She groans, while rubbing her eyes, “Don’t need another sibling created right in front of m-”

“Sarah Jane!”

You smile when Joel drops onto his mattress with a huff.

“So…” You drift off, crawling onto Joel’s lap, “You come here often?”

He chuckles, his hands beginning to trail your waist.

“Come here quite often, actually,” He jokes, his hands resting right under your shirt and on your hips. “How about you?”

You hum, “Not really. Maybe a couple times. Would love to come around, more though.”

“That so?”

You lean down, using your fingers to pull back his brown locks and pivot his head upward. You kiss him gingerly, smiling at his small groan.

You pull away, “I’d love to come to your bed every night, Joel Miller.”

The guttural moan he makes sends a rush to your core. He grabs the nape of your neck and brings you back down to his lips. He takes control of your movements, switching positions by gently laying you back. He leans over your body, his lips carrying the weight of his emotion. You’re scrambling though, tugging at his shirt, trying to rid it off his body. He pulls away to throw it off his body, motioning you to do the same. Soon, you two are completely naked.

“I never get sick of this view,” He rasps, his eyes raking your body.

You smirk, “Back atcha, babe.”

He positions himself on top of you, his lips lingering on your neck and collarbones.

Joel’s kisses are always intentional. It’s like he knows every pressure point on your body. His lips are always wet and supple, dragging across your soft skin.

When his mouth reaches the skin around your breast, you start to arch up for more contact. He grabs your stomach, pushing it softly down onto the bed.

“Patience, baby,” He mumbles, kissing the same area on the other breast. You jerk up again, absentmindedly.

“Can’t help it,” You whine, trying not to sound so desperate.

He clicks his tongue, “You can and you will.”

His lips wrap around your nipple and you just watch with hooded lids. His eyes are closed, so focus on teasing every inch of your body. You can feel the slick pool between your legs at the sight.

“Joel, please.”

He releases the pink nub, “What, baby? Use those words.”

“I want you all over, Joel.”

“Yeah? Where? Here?”

He grabs your breast roughly, making you mewl.

You finally gesture down. Your hand slides between your legs, dragging up and down your own slit. You gather as much slick as you can, bringing it up to Joel’s surprised expression.

“I see…” He brings your fingers up to his lips. You gape at his next actions, amazed that he’s so filthy. He takes your two fingers and licks them like a popsicle. You audible sigh as he sucks on your fingers like a man starved.

“You goin’ to be extra good for me?” He asks when your digits escape his mouth.

“Always am.”

Your voice is shaky when you say it. It makes Joel smirk. He loves when you sound ruined.

“Love hearing those words come out of your pretty little mouth.”

He crawls down your body, peppering kisses from your stomach down to your thighs. You watch him closely as he props your thighs over his shoulders. He does not waste time, diving straight into your divine center. You try to refrain from screaming his name, knowing Sarah may not be asleep yet. You clap your hand over your mouth while he licks your sensitive clit. He lays his tongue flat, pressing into you as he shakes his head back and forth. When he does that, you yelp into your palm.

“Mmm, baby girl wants to be loud so bad,” He chuckles darkly, using his fingers to spread your lips, “You wanna be loud for me huh?”

“Yes, please, God,” You pant, “Need you in me, Joel.”

“Yeah? Lets stretch you out a bit,” He doesn’t even give any warning when he sinks his fingers inside your pussy. “Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready, baby girl. Want you to cum before I stick this cock in ya.”

You swallow, letting him take the lead like usual. You liked it this way, when he ravishes you with his abilities and you get to cum several times. You never had sex like this in your life, especially consistently.

His fingers curl inside you, pumping in and out. You can hear how wet you are, the wetness sequelching against Joel’s fingers. Your pussy is graced with his tongue again while he fucks you with his digits. It’s like it’s pulled out of you. The orgasm sends white hot flashes to your vision. You know you’re saying something, but it’s no word in the English language.

When you come back down from euphoria, Joel’s ontop of you again. He’s kissing your cheeks, mumbling something about how beautiful you are when you cum.

“Joel, please,” Your hands grab onto his biceps, “Want you inside me.”

His cock drags along your navel, as he situates himself between your legs.

“Yeah? Always so eager,” He grabs his cock with his free hand, “Wanna try something a little different?”

Your stomach drops, “Like what?”

He toys with your nipple with his pointer and thumb, “Always wanted to fuck these.”

You smirk at the thought, your stomach finally at ease.

“You want to fuck my titties, Joel?”

“If you’ll let me,” He squeezes your boob gently, “Think these things are perfect. Want my cock right between them.”

You nod, “Fuck ‘em then, baby.”

He pulls you up, practically shoving you on the ground beside his bed. He wasn’t being aggressive, just guiding you to follow his lead. You sit on your knees, watching up at him as he pumps his cock over you. You use both hands to push your tits together. He grins as he touches the head of his cock to your hard nipples.

“So good for me,” He groans, slipping his cock between your cleavage, “Obeyin’ me and doin’ everythin’ I want. My fuckin’ dream girl.”

He starts to fuck your squeezed together tits as you stare up at him with a completely spent expression. You dribble some spit down between the break in your breast to lube up the area. Your pupils are blown and you feel the wetness of you slit soaking the skin of your legs. You can tell by the look on Joel’s face that he could cum at the sight of you.

But he stops and instead, grabs your bicep and tosses you back on the bed. You watch him crawl up between your legs, his face untamed and filled with anticipation.

“Need to cum in that pussy,” He pumps it a couple times before slipping in between your pussy lips, “Do you need me to put on a condom or anything? I don’t have to fuck you raw every time.”

You bite your lip, “I like feeling every part of you, Joel. I promise.”

“Mmm,” He hums, sinking his cock head inside you, “Love to hear that, baby.”

You circle your hips, practically fiening for him to sink all the way into you. He takes the hint, plunging into you with one snap. Once he’s finally sheathed in you, you groan out which only instigates him. He draws out and back in, his pace painstakingly slow. You grip onto his forearms, digging your nails into them. Maybe he will take the hint that you need it faster.

But, no.

“Words, darlin’. Tell me what you need.”

You choke out the words, “Faster. Harder.”

He kisses your lips, shushing you as his tempo picks up. He wants to feel the vibrations of your moans. He knows if you’re too loud there may be listening ears, so kissing you will hush the sounds of pleasure. He sits up and repositions, grabbing the back of both of your legs, practically folding you in half. You smirk in delight, watching his furrowed expression focus on your body’s reactions.

“This pussy is mine,” He huffs, watching himself plow into you, “All fuckin’ mine. Ya know that?”

“Yes,” You manage to peep out, “It’s yours, Joel.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He spreads your legs, opening you up nice and wide. His thumb finds your responsive clit, circling it with the momentum of his hips, “Cum for me, baby. Soak this fuckin’ cock.”

Your body reacts in the way he finds so satisfying. Your hips lift up as the climax takes over, your whole body shaking at the ecstasy he brings you. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own bliss. You are so overstimulated, you are just gasping for air. He starts to falter, his pace slowing as he coats your insides with his cum.

You start to chuckle when his body practically collapses onto you. His sweaty curls stick to your perspiring cheek. You find yourself kissing his temple, practically thanking him for fucking you so good every time.

He stands up, his half-hard dick slipping out of you pain-stakingly slow. You whimper at the feeling, still a mess from your orgasm.

“God, you are perfect,” He mumbles, his hand slipping down your bare thigh, “Could fuck you every day for the rest of my life.”

You are still awestruck by the interaction, you don’t even know you’re saying it, “Why don’t you?”

He smiles while he helps you sit up, “I will. Now let’s get you all showered and ready for bed, huh?”

“Yes, please.”

Luckily for you, your body naturally wakes up at 5:30AM. You creep out of the bedroom, making sure not to stir Joel awake. You find the house phone and call your boss, letting her know you were “sick” and needed to use a sick day. She just mumbled a “whatever” and you hung up, heading back to the warmth of Joel’s bed.

Joel wakes up as soon as you crawl back into bed, but he knew he had to get up and make sure Sarah got ready and off to school, anway. He cuddles you for a bit, watching you nod back off to sleep. He let you sleep in while he cleaned up the house a bit. He tries his best not to much too much noise, not wanting to rattle you awake.

You did wake back up when you heard the vacuum. You pull yourself together, putting your hair up into a bun as you stumble out of the bedroom. Joel stands in the living room, not even aware you’re behind him. He jumps when he notices you in the threshold, turning off the vacuum.

“Mornin’ sleepin’ beauty,” He laughs as he wraps up the vacuum cord.

“Mornin’ handsome.”

You watch him roll the machine back into the hall closet before taking note to how nice and clean the house looked.

“Looks good in here,” You mumble, noting how every surface looks dusted, “It’s missing one thing. You have a vase?”

He silently nods, looking at you confused.

“Go fill it with water, I’ll be back.”

You walk towards the front door, swinging it open as you begin tip toeing to Joel’s side garden. He had started it with Sarah years ago, and for the most part, it was completely overgrown. Some flowers still bloom in the Texas sun, so you pick the prettiest from the dirt. Once you have a bundle, you practically jog inside to show Joel your bouquet.

“Hmm,” He smirks, “Didn’t think we needed flowers.”

“Well, you do.”

He shows you the vase on the coffee table, letting you take on the responsibility to make it pretty. He watches you carefully, your tired eyes trained on the task.

You were his dream girl, truly.

Once you’re satisfied with your arrangement, you make a grand gesture.

“Beautiful, baby,” He beams, wrapping his arms around your waist. He drops down onto the couch, pulling you into his lap.

“Who me or the flowers?” You joke.

“Both.”

You give him a lazy kiss, smirking into it.

This part of life with Joel is so domestic and perfect. You two could create this little world and live in it forever. He appreciated your silly antics, knowing how neglected this side of you must have been with Tommy. He didn’t care about the small gestures like Joel did.

It was so reassuring being with Joel. He praised you like you had never been before.

As you pull away from his lips, you hear a door slam outside. Before you could even react, the front door swings open into the house. You sit on Joel’s lap, turned away from the front door, completely dumbfounded.

“What is going on here?”

His voice scares you. You don’t even want to turn around in Joel’s lap to face him. Joel slowly helps you out of his lap, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s.

When you finally turn to face Tommy, his eyes are wild and bright red. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days, his longer hair greasy and standing in all sorts of directions. It’s not his appearance that scares you, it’s the energy he’s brought into Joel’s living room. It’s the same scary tension you experienced when he lashed out on you before.

Joel finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “What do you mean?”

But Tommy isn’t talking to Joel. He’s looking at you.

“Are you fuckin’ my brother?”

He’s pointing at you, his finger waving at you like an adult who’s scolding a child. You open your mouth, but you can’t say anything. Your throat is dry, the shock and terror taking ahold of your vocal chords.

“Tommy, we aren’t doing this.”

Joel puts himself in between Tommy and you, ensuring he doesn’t creep closer to you. You want to believe Tommy would never get physical with you, but the way he looks now, you’re not one hundred percent positive.

“That’s not what I fuckin’ asking, Joel. Are you two sleepin’ together?”

His voice is booming, bouncing off every corner of the room. It makes you shrink three sizes.

Joel places his head up, warning him silently not to get any closer, “Tommy-”

“Answer the fuckin’ question!”

You want to curl into a ball. You knew this would fucking happen. You knew he’d go insane.

You look at Joel finally. You realize your eyes were trained on Tommy in terror, unsure on how to console him. Joel licks his lips, rolling his eyes a bit. You just nod, trying to answer Tommy’s question without saying anything. You didn’t want him to realize how shaky your voice was.

Once he gets confirmation, all hell breaks loose. He’s pushing on Joel with his chest, screaming expletives at him. You stand in the corner of the living room, your body practically wedged between a lamp and the couch. You want to become one of the dustbunnies on the floor boards, not wanting to be apart of this situation.

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole! You fucked my girl-“

Before he can even finish the statement, Joel becomes a brick wall. He’s staring down at Tommy now, all the while snot is running down at his little brother’s face. He looked pathetic. As he nudges Joel’s chest, he hardly moves a milimeter. Joel doesn’t even hesitate when he says the next words.

“Not your girl.”

You truly cannot believe the words coming out of Joel’s mouth. You knew what he was insinuating and it brought chills up your back. Tommy’s movements completely halt and he stands there in a stunned silence. Joel’s jaw is slack, his eyes trained down at Tommy. It’s a stand-off.

Tommy crooks his head to the side, like he’s stretching it. “You want to pull that shit now, Joel? I knew you wanted my sloppy seconds the moment you told me she was at your house that night.”

Being referred as “sloppy seconds” makes your blood boil. It’s so dehumanizing.

“Stop talking about her like that,” Joel warns, his voice a whole octave lower.

“No,” Tommy growls, his gaze finally falling on you again, “You’re a whore. Just like your stupid sister.”

You swallow hard. It’s finally your moment to shine. The burst of adrenaline chorusing through your veins finally propels you forward, pushing Joel out of your way.

“You’re the town whore, Tommy Miller. You fucked your way around Austin and then came home to me every night,” You are shaking. Luckily, your voice isn’t wavering, “You lie. You cheat. You are a decietiful little shit. And I’m so glad you are because if you hadn’t slept with my sister and told me, I would have never realized how terrible you were to me all these years. I wasted so much time on babying you.”

The vein in his forehead is bulging and it makes you smile a bit.

“If I could go back in time, I would’ve saved my fucking tears and ran the other direction.”

He has the audacity to giggle, “Instead you ran right into Joel’s arms.”

You don’t hesitate, “You never gave a damn about me, he actually did. I should’ve taken the hint the moment he brought me flowers for my graduation, and you showed up with a flask.”

“You graduated college! Big fuckin’ deal! Get over yourself!”

Now you’re laughing.

“Bite me, Tommy,” You reach out and grab his t-shirt, pulling him into you. It makes Joel super nervous how close he is to you. He knows Tommy’s temper and how easily he will snap. He doesn’t know the next words about to come out of your mouth.

“You cheated on me, you fucking loser. I told you then we were done that night, did I not? What I did after that point is not your business. I’m not yours anymore. And your brother, he treats me real good. Way better than you ever did. He can actually last, unlike you,” You smack your lips together, “He can fuck me better than you, that’s for sure.”

Joel’s eyes widen at the words. Tommy looks completely dazed, but as soon as the last line leaves your mouth, he pushes you backward, right into Joel. You squeak at the contact, your brain registering that he actually put his hands on you. Joel quickly grabs you from tripping over him, and places you behind him quickly. Tommy reaches out for you, but Joel stops him meer inches from your face.

“Fuck you!”

Tommy tries to throw his hand at Joel’s head next but it’s quickly stopped by Joel’s forearm. Instead of Tommy continuing the fight with you two, he takes it out on the new flowers and vase you just put out on Joel’s coffee table. He uses all his force, grabbing the vase and launching it towards the wall. The glasses shatters, water splashes on the wall, and pieces of flowers litter the floor.

The action sends Joel pushing Tommy backward and against the wall. You want to yell out for them to stop, but all that comes out his Joel’s name.

When he pins Tommy to the wall, he finally turns to you.

“Don’t.”

It’s the only word you can say. You’re shaking, your eyes welling with tears. Joel knows you don’t want to see him demolish Tommy with his fists, so he thinks quick. He grabs Tommy’s collar, dragging him out the front door.

You follow far behind, not sure what Joel’s gameplan is.

Tommy is yelling, telling Joel to unhand him. Joel just tightens his grip.

“Coming into my house, talking to my girl like that. Fuckin’ disrespectful little shit.”

“Fuck you, Joel,” Tommy yells, his voice probably waking the neighbors. Joel launches Tommy’s body into the front yard, right near the flower bed. You watch from the doorway, wanting to keep your distance from the confrontation.

“Remember when you had temper tantrums when Momma told you no as a boy? Nothings changed. You’re an immature little brat.”

Joel reaches down into the flower bed, grabbing the hose. Tommy is still on the ground, scrambling to get up. Joel does something so unexpected, it makes you yelp. He starts soaking Tommy with the hose.

“Yeah, like the girl said before,” He aims towards Tommy’s face, “bite me.”

Tommy starts to spit up water, jumping up and away from the stream of water. Instead of tackling Joel like you anticipate, he just shakingly wipes his hair out of his eyes.

“You two are sick. Fuckin’ sick. And everyone will know about this.”

It makes your heart sink to your stomach. You don’t really care if anyone knows anymore. You knew this was going to be the worst part, but its the way he makes it sound like a threat.

“I bet they will, I just don’t give a damn.”

Joel sprays him while he stands up, making Tommy groan and yell out in annoyance. Joel just smiles, sickly.

Tommy storms off to his truck, dripping wet from the shower Joel just gave him on his front lawn. Joel tosses the hose back into the garden, satisfied with his work. You two stand there, watching Tommy do a burn out and speed off down the road. You breathe out loud, your hands finding your face. Joel glances between his neighbour’s houses, ensuring there is no one outside watching the events unfold. He did not care if they did watch, but he knew you would probably care.

He grabs ahold of your shoulders, guiding you back inside the house. Your eyes instantly fall on all the shattered glass and flowers as you walk inside. Joel ignores it and brings you into the kitchen.

Your mind is racing. You knew every word you said to Tommy was right deep down. But the girl you were, she wouldn’t have instigated his rage. She would’ve sat there and took every word he said to heart and believed them.

But the girl you are now, that girl is completely ruthless. You are petty. You are harsh. You are angry.

You kind of scared yourself.

“Joel-”

“No baby,” he mutters, “You better not say what I think you’re gonna say.”

“Joel, we can’t d-”

“We can. Because fuck Tommy. Fuck everyone,” He grabs your hips, letting his hands settle softly on your curves, “I want you. I want you so bad. I am not lettin’ you get away. Tommy can tell everyone in the fuckin’ world about us, and I won’t fuckin’ care. What he says doesn’t reflect you. You did nothin’ wrong. Okay?”

You swallow. You know he’s right, but you’re so scared of all this fallout. You don’t want it to scare you away from Joel, but it’s nervewracking to wait around and anticipate all of the chaos that will follow this incident. You did not want to tear apart a family. It’s the same feeling you had the morning after you first slept with Joel.

You’re scared to have him because of what it means for him. It means weird holidays and weird stares at grocery stores. It means you will be known as his brother’s ex girlfriend never just his girl.

You don’t realize it, but you’re staring past Joel. He tilts your head towards him, making your eyes connect.

“I love you, okay?”

His words make your heart flutter with relief. Maybe that’s what you needed. You needed him to finally say those words. Because those words were hanging in the back of your mind, simmering, waiting to be said.

“I love you, too, Joel.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #gracieheartspedro

756 notes · View notes

chryblossomjjk · 1 year

Text

the weekend | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: dilf!jk x babysitter reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | fwb, sm*t, angst

⇢ WC: 13.8k

⇢ WARNINGS: alright boyz strap in bc it's a doozy lmao, protected s*x, multiple org*sms (m & f), or*l s*x (m receiving), face f*ck, f*ngering, rough s*x, face slapping, sp*nking, exh*bitionism, sir k*nk, t*tty f*ck, t*tty sucking (duh), body piercings (n*pples), age gap (reader is 23 and jk is like 30), infid*lity (reader is the other woman), ch*king, overst*mulation, sp*tting, man handling, finger s*cking, d*m jk, brief mentions of past add*ction, implied passing of a bby (mainly subtext w no details given), maybe unrequited love, maybe not (EVIL CACKLE), some dark thoughts discussed (nothing too graphic or detailed), fighting n yelling n crying yikes, all of these characters are v flawed (except for yul duh), cute bby moments!!, oc is v immature n naive n contradicts herself a lot, she maybe has a thing for older guys bc of that, some bl*od (just a scrape on the knee but ik bl*od can be triggering), this relationship is extremely toxic and not meant to be desired!!!, one homage to trixie mattel lmao

⇢ SUMMARY: every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.

⇢ NOTES: so after months and months of planning this fic (i literally posted the teaser in JANUARY UM??), it's finally here. i think this is my fav thing i've written thus far and i worked v hard on this! would love to know ur thoughts, feedback is always appreciated!! ty @/taegularities for betaing!! (for whatever reason, this fic refuses to show up in tags n it sucks n nothing i do fixes it so i shall leave it be lol)

You can't tell what’s louder—the crunch of dewy, end-of-summer grass pricking the soft skin of your thighs like angry thorns, or the cracking of bones as your body thumps to the ground from your bedroom window.

“Ah-” the whine is quickly stifled by a sharp hiss as you remember your dad’s sleeping figure is just behind the wall next to you. “Ouch,” you whimper, praying that the crash hasn’t reached his watchful ears. Carefully, you climb to your feet, brushing the dirt off your bare legs. You spot a fresh crimson scrape on your knee.

Fucking great.

Finally, after days of longing and waiting, the weekend has arrived. Today, in particular, is a fantastic day. You were trying to look sexy, and blood isn't exactly the sexiest accessory. Bringing your wrist up to your nose, you inhale the candy-scented liquid you had doused yourself in before leaving.

Perfume still in check, thank fuck.

Goosebumps form on your skin as you take long, dutiful strides, cool night mist gliding through the thin material of your long silk shirt. You’ve committed this path to memory—out the window, usually in a more graceful manner, through the neighbor’s yard, and then straight down the sidewalk to the black Mercedes Benz waiting for you at the end of the road.

If you hadn’t done this a million and one times already, you might’ve missed the vehicle, so dark that it blends into the night seamlessly. You can’t help but wonder if that’s his goal entirely.

Still, the excitement of it all makes you walk a little faster.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you smile as you slide into his black leather passenger seat, leaning over the center console to give his cheek a gentle peck. Maybe you’ve overstepped a boundary and muddied the lines in the sand of your… relationship, but you can’t help yourself. Seeing Jungkook was always a treat, one you looked forward to every Friday night for the past five months.

“Hi,” he says impassively, eyes darting over your figure. A loose strand of hair dangles in front of his eyes, teasing you. “You’re wearing makeup?”

“Oh, um…” You’re at a loss for words; surprised he noticed such a slight change in your appearance. Although his perceptiveness was something you noted shortly after you began working for him, you can’t help but feel flustered. “Yeah, I… wanted to look nice tonight. Totally busted my ass climbing out the window,” you laugh.

“Did you get hurt?” His straight brows furrow slightly, silver piercing reflecting the moonlight.

“Just a scratch.” You lift your leg to show him the red mark on your knee. “Didn’t break anything, though, so that’s a plus.”

Wordlessly, Jungkook reaches over, popping open the glove compartment before you and pulling out the first aid kit he keeps there for emergencies. The scent of clean linen wafts over you from his daily cologne. His scent. Only his. You try your best to subdue the possessive smirk forming. “You should be more careful.”

“I’m okay.”

“Be more careful,” he commands, peering up at you with an icy gaze. “Got it?”

Whether it’s the seven-year age gap between the two of you or the tone of his voice, you know better than to argue. “Yes,” you wince as he rubs Neosporin onto the open wound. “Besides, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt if my dad wasn’t so… overprotective.”

“Well,” he continues, sticking a pink Baby Shark bandaid to your skin before putting the box back, “as a father, I understand.”

“Yul is two, though,” you laugh, “I’m in my twenties.”

“Being in your early twenties hardly makes you an adult,” he mutters. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The need to protect your children always stays the same.”

“Poor Bunny,” you pout jokingly as you click your seatbelt on. “She’s going to be just like me when she’s older. Sneaking out of a window to see a boy because her daddy is a big grizzly bear.”

The comment has his nose twitching in irritation. “I’m done with this conversation, __.”

You freeze. Have you struck a nerve?

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you peep. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop.” His voice is flat, but your heart thumps. “It’s fine.”

All the excitement you feel suddenly morphs into an uncomfortable ache as you slump into your seat. It’s different than it was last weekend, positioned much closer to the dashboard than you would ever put it. There’s a claustrophobic sting in your chest as you realize someone else has been in this very spot.

You know they have, and you know who.

The deafening sound of the bulky silver band on his finger, tapping against the steering wheel as he begins driving to the hotel you frequent, is a sick reminder.

You swear there’s even a musky floral scent lingering in the air. Deeper and more mature than yours. It could be paranoia, or guilt, making you imagine things. Still, you hope your perfume finds its way into every fiber of his leather seats.

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks, interrupting any rational thought or doubt, luring you back into the vicious cycle.

“A bit stressful,” you sigh. “I applied for school today.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, pretty sure I messed up on the financial aid paperwork, though. It was super confusing; I didn’t understand any of it.”

“You should’ve brought it over. I could’ve helped you.”

Jungkook does have a master’s degree in finance. He could’ve been your Rosetta Stone, helping you decipher convoluted questions about taxes and deductions. However, you weren’t sure how he would’ve reacted to you pulling out your laptop post-sex, asking for assistance on something completely unrelated to your normal routine. “That’s not the type of thing we usually do when we’re together,” you shrug, “you know?”

Your response has him shifting in his spot, pierced bottom lip curling inwards like the words made him queasy. He was the one who encouraged you to go back to school in the first place. “I wouldn’t have minded,” Jungkook mumbles before quickly redirecting the dialogue, something he does whenever he’s frustrated or uncomfortable. “So, what’s the special occasion?”

“Huh?”

“What’s got you all dolled up?”

Oh, right. That special occasion. The one you’ve been anticipating since you were made aware of its existence.

“Happy three years sober!” You announce with a cheesy smile, throwing your arms up eagerly.

“Ah,” he huffs in recognition. His eyes are fixed on the road, but there’s the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face. Success. It takes everything in you not to physically rejoice. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

“What do you mean?” You ask with a pout. “How could I forget?”

“I don’t know.” Just like that, the flicker of happiness wisps away like a flame in the wind as his expression turns emotionless and stoic again. “It’s not really a big deal.”

You frown. Must he always be so… cold?

‘It’s okay to smile; you deserve it,’ is what you want to tell him. It's not your place, though. You opt for: “It’s a huge deal, Jungkook,” instead. Reaching over, you gently tuck the stray strand of hair behind his decorated ear.

A somber aura hangs around him like a dark, dreary rain cloud, and in moments like this, when it’s so visible, you just… need to touch him.

It’s stupid to think that you’re the special one; that you’ll be the girl to turn the rain into a rainbow and save him from himself, but you can’t refrain from trying.

“Did you celebrate?”

He shakes his head. “Went to work.”

You can tell from his outfit—a sleek black blazer resting neatly on top of an even darker button-up and tie. His long hair is slicked back, but gravity, and his ten-hour long shift took their toll, making the strands hang slack, short undercut peaking through. He looks so incredibly sexy. Maybe, you can comfort him in the only way you know how…

“Well, there’s still time.” You point to the clock on his touchscreen stereo: 11:12 p.m. You throw your hair over your shoulder before slowly undoing the top two buttons of your shirt, revealing the skimpy black lingerie set you splurged on just for tonight. Just for him. “We can celebrate…”

“Yeah?” His cheek bubbles, tongue poking at the inside of his mouth, eyebrow jumping at your suggestion. “How so?”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over the center console. It’s reckless, but so is being with a man like Jungkook. When you finally get to have him the way you want, you’re incapable of rationality.

One night of him isn’t enough. What kind of tease is that? You need at least six more to be satisfied…

“__,” he warns, arching his head away from your sneaky lips. “Put your seatbelt on. Wait until we get to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” You pout, cupping his cheek in your hand and batting your eyelashes innocently. Jungkook doesn’t take the bait, giving the desolate road ahead his unwavering attention. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, you can tell you’re getting to him. Below you, his slacks tighten around his thick, tensed thighs. He’s playing right into your hands. Needily, you tongue the little silver hoops dangling from his ear.

“If I have to pull over, you’re in trouble.”

“Maybe I-”

A hushed ‘fuck’ cuts you off as the car comes to a screeching halt. Jungkook slams on the brakes, coming too close to the slower vehicle in front of you for comfort. Luckily, his dad reflexes kick in. His strong hand grips your waist tightly, preventing you from barreling forward. You brace yourself by clutching his shoulders, and when the adrenaline rush fades, you finally look at him. His nostrils are flared, and his jaw is clenched painfully tight. He’s pissed.

You know you should apologize, or be a little shaken up, but the blinking of the turn signal as he pulls to the side of the dark highway has your mouth watering. This is just what you wanted.

Jungkook sighs in frustration, tilting his head back against the headrest. The movement is counterintuitive, exposing the inked canvas of his neck that you’re desperate to paint red and purple.

A hand fists your tangled hair, pulling you off with a harsh yank before you have the chance to sink your teeth in. The silver ring on his finger digs into your scalp like a knife. “Do not fucking mark me.”

The feeling of the frigid metal is agonizing. Not physically—his grip loosens immediately after the initial tug—but emotionally. You know why he doesn’t want you to mark him. Any evidence of you, other than your weekly babysitting duties, would unravel the entire life he’s built for himself.

Jungkook is an intelligent man, though. You don’t have to tell him that it’s all a façade, and everything’s already been undone.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out frail and shaky. “I just want you.”

And like some cruel joke, his phone rings.

The contact image would typically make you swoon. It’s a picture of him and his daughter from her first birthday party; her sticky, strawberry ice cream covered hands holding his cheeks as he stares at her with scrunched eyes and a big smile. You think that picture is the only time you’ve ever seen him genuinely happy.

The bold, white font at the top of the screen makes you sick to your stomach.

‘Wife.’

Jungkook releases your hair and places a finger over his mouth, signaling you to shut up, before answering.

“Yes, Seulgi?”

“Your daughter would like to speak to you.”

Her voice makes you want to curl into yourself. Whenever you talk to Seulgi regarding Yul, you’re able to compartmentalize and detach that part of yourself from this one. The one that’s sleeping with her husband. Hearing her in this compromised setting makes you feel absolutely repulsive.

After some rustling and tiny sniffles, Yul answers. “Da-” She only manages a syllable before breaking into a cry-induced coughing fit. You cringe, poor Bunny. “Daddy!”

“What’s wrong with my baby?”

You don’t mean to giggle, especially when the little girl you’ve grown to love so much is clearly distressed, but the intimidating, grumpy, tattooed businessman beside you, talking in full-on pout, tickles your brain just right.

“I don’t wanna sleep alone!” Yul screeches in the most anguished, high-pitched tone.

“Bunny…” With the way his hands scrub down his face, you can tell the tears on the other end are physically affecting him. “Take a deep breath, please.”

There’s a shaky inhale, and a sad whine of an exhale as she tries to steady her respirations.

“Thank you, good job,” he affirms. “Yul, daddy is…” Dark pupils flicker over to you, his face scowled to match. He eyes you like you’re an annoying stain on his leather seat. A dirty little secret that’s keeping him from his daughter. The gesture sends a dagger through your chest. Usually, Jungkook tells his wife he’s working overtime, but he can’t bring himself to lie to his only daughter. “Busy.”

“B-B-But.” The wails have simmered down to a blubber. “Scared.”

“You have mommy, though, don’t you?” He counters exasperatedly, cogs turning at maximum speed to conjure up a solution. “And Ruru?”

Yul is a persistent girl. You’ve seen the two-and-a-half-year-old deadpan Jungkook with a ‘you can have them, then,’ when he tried to convince her that vegetables were delicious and totally not an abomination to tastebuds. “Jeon Ruru is scared, too.”

After a few months of dedication and trust building, Yul finally initiated you into her inner circle of squishmallows, all of which shared the surname, Jeon, followed by whatever random title her baby brain bestowed them. Jeon Ruru, a glass of strawberry milk, was her favorite. You coo in remembrance.

“What about Ado?” Jungkook suggests, exhausting all his options.

“Ado?” She peeps curiously, and you can almost see her doe eyes scanning the room for her runner-up, an avocado squishmallow you gifted her. “Ado’s sleepin’.”

“Can you go get him?”

There’s a long pause of contemplation before the pitter-patter of tiny feet on wood fills the speakers. “Jeon Ado!” She calls out, voice becoming distant as she runs to her bedroom, “daddy wantsa’ talk to you!” You make out a quiet ‘I’ll tuck you in’ when Seulgi helps her to bed. “Okay,” Yul huffs, breathless from her scurry down the long corridor, “he’s here.”

“Jeon Ado.” You rarely see this side of him, and it takes all of your strength to suppress the smile that’s creeping up. “Can you keep Yul safe while I’m away?” He even leans forward a bit, turning his ear towards the speaker as if he’s actually waiting for the stuffed avocado to answer, subconsciously playing along with his daughter despite being miles apart. The scene puts your overwhelmingly sweet perfume to shame. “Uh, Yul, he said yes. So can you sleep in your big girl bed tonight?”

Reluctantly, Yul grumbles in agreement.

“Alright baby, goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

Again, she answers with a little grunt and a yawn.

“I love you.”

“Love youuu!” She extends the vowel for emphasis.

“I love you more.”

There’s a beat of silence before the sleepy girl simply responds ‘yep,’ not even attempting to argue. He glances at you, this time with a wholesome smile, eyes warm with burning stars. It’s moments like this that keep you hooked, you think. Like always, the feeling is short-lived. When Seulgi mumbles a sweet goodnight to her daughter, their daughter, you’re reminded that you shouldn’t even be observing this domestic interaction.

“You know,” the man begins, turning his attention to his wife, “if you had given her a warm bottle, she would’ve gone down without a hitch.”

“Jungkook, she’s too old for a bottle.” And just like that, the fire between them ignites. You’ve never actually witnessed the pair fighting, only felt the uncomfortable heat between them in passing. “And she’s too old to be co-sleeping. She never had an issue sleeping alone beforehand.”

“Alright,” he asserts, “if Yul’s okay, then we’re done here.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” Despite his warning, she continues. “Getting her used to sleeping with you and then not being here?”

There were many things about having a daughter that Jungkook wasn’t prepared for.

It’s not that he didn’t do his research, and Yul certainly wasn’t an accident. He had wanted her more than anything. Especially after the…

Incident.

A baby-sized hole was left in Jungkook’s chest. Every day, it grew bigger and bigger until, eventually, that bitter emptiness would’ve swallowed him alive.

Jungkook needed Yul.

Still, there were certain things that parenting books and videos hadn’t warned him about, like the worry in his stomach whenever his daughter refuses her lunch, or the ache in his heart when he drops her off at daycare and she watches him leave through the window with a sad wave and tears rolling down her cheeks as if he’s just abandoned her forever. As if he or his wife aren’t going to pick her up in a mere four hours like they do every Tuesday and Thursday. His readings haven’t prepared him for the even stronger ache that consumes his entire body whenever he leaves for work too early and comes home too late, with barely any time to spend with his favorite person in the world.

Before Yul was even born, Jungkook and Seulgi had decided that co-sleeping was out of the question. Their room was for them, and he stood firm on that principle for a while. However, as time passed, their room became Seulgi’s, and the empty bedroom downstairs became his.

Jungkook couldn’t stand that room.

One night, after a particularly grueling shift, Jungkook trudges up the stairs for a late shower. Without finance talk or Yul’s babbles, he’s left to his own thoughts. Usually, under the scalding water, he wondered how his life turned out this way, or more so, why? This time, Jungkook wonders if there is even a reason to keep going at all.

He catches his reflection while brushing his teeth. His eyes are dark, cold, distant. Those same eyes belong to his daughter, but all he sees when looking into hers is love, innocence, and everything good in life.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s hope for him.

Taking a detour to Yul’s room, Jungkook does his best to quietly tip-toe around squishmallows and discarded markers. Underneath the pink blanket is a little ball of fluffy black hair. She’s got her thumb in her mouth—a bad habit he and Seulgi had been trying to nip in the bud—with her chubby cheeks squished against her pillow. There were few things he hated more than waking her up, especially when she was sleeping so peacefully, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t stop himself.

Tiny, confused cries fill the room as Jungkook scoops her up.

“Shh,” he hushes, smoothing his palm over her onesie-clad back. “It’s just me.”

“Da- ddy?” Immediately, she relaxes at the familiar sound of his voice, words slurred as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes with a little fist before peering up at him with big marble eyes.

“How was daycare, Bunny?”

“Scared,” she whimpers, slumping into his chest for comfort. “Scaredy cat.”

“Scaredy cat?” Jungkook repeats, trying to make sense of the phrase. “Who’s a scaredy cat?”

“Jeon Yul.”

Typically, Jungkook finds it adorable when Yul refers to herself in the third person. The way she says it this time makes him frown. “Jeon Yul is not a scaredy cat. Jeon Yul is a baby, that’s all.” Realizing that she’d probably heard the unfavorable title at daycare, his chest tightens. With a heavy sigh, he rests his chin on top of her round head, swaying back and forth. Her hair smells like green apples from her baby soap. “Why were you scared, sweetheart?”

“No color…”

On his lunch break, Seulgi informed him that she was picking Yul up early. In an attempt to encourage her to engage with other children, the teacher took away Yul’s crayons, sending her into a full-blown tantrum. Jungkook knew his daughter well, a spitting image of him in every capacity. The crayons weren’t the problem; it was that crippling shyness that made her afraid of socializing with nearly anyone other than you and her parents.

Her back ripples with tiny hiccups as she recounts the events. Jungkook decides it’s best to change the subject, not wanting to upset his two-year-old anymore—especially this late at night.

“Guess what?”

Yul grunts an inquisitive noise.

“Daddy got you Baby Shark coloring books.”

Her wispy bedhead bounces as she glances side to side, inspecting her room for any sign of new Pinkfong merchandise. Jungkook was genuinely amazed at her ability to keep track of it all, considering how much he and his wife loved to spoil her rotten. However, the word ‘rotten’ doesn’t even come close to describing his baby. “Where?”

“In my car,” he laughs, slicking her choppy bangs out of her eyes. “We’ll color tomorrow., okay?”

“I like Baby Shark,” Yul says, completely ignoring his question. The teeniest, tiniest, most precious yawn slips out, two little front teeth on full display before her lips smack together sleepily. Truly living up to her nickname.

“I know you do.” He’s still rocking her gently, buying some time before she falls back into sleep’s arms and out of his. “I missed you so much today.”

“Why?”

As of late, ‘why’ seems to be Yul’s favorite word.

Why is the sky blue?

Why do vegetables taste yucky?

Why is daddy’s nose so big?

He’d be lying if he said that last, brutally honest question hadn’t caught him off guard when she first uttered it on his hip at the grocery store.

“Because I love you.” It’s the most effortless sentence he’s ever spoken. The most natural feeling he’s ever felt.

“Why?”

“Because,” his eye roll is disconnected from his growing smile, “you’re so cute!” If they weren’t enclosed by the four pink walls of Yul’s bedroom, Jungkook would be embarrassed at the squeakiness of his usual monotone voice. Leaning down, Jungkook blows a raspberry against her doughy cheek, a tried and true method of making her laugh. “Do you want to sleep in my room?”

It’s against his better judgment and the ground rules he had agreed to, but he just… really needs to spend time with her tonight. The small nod against his chest seals the deal. Before he gets to the door, Yul stops him with an exaggerated gasp.

“Daddy, Ruru!”

“Ruru?”

She grunts, frustrated at her father’s confusion, frantically pointing at her partner in crime, the strawberry milk squishmallow lying neatly underneath her comforter. Just how she left it.

“Yul,” Jungkook starts, taking a few steps backward and bending at the waist, allowing her to take the oversized stuffie into her arms. “Isn’t this Mimi?” As far as Jungkook knows, the pink milk carton with a face had always been Mimi; a name Yul had dubbed it since he brought it home a couple months back.

“Ruru,” she states affirmatively.

And ever since then, Yul’s been a co-sleeper.

Jungkook prided himself on knowing his daughter like the back of his tattooed hand. Whether it’s a sixth sense, some innate father’s instinct that the parenting videos mentioned, or his own attention to detail, he could read her like a book. However, sharing a bed with the tiny human taught him something he had been blissfully unaware of:

Yul sleeps wild.

More often than not, Jungkook was awoken by a tiny foot kicking his back, or by his own reflexes as he was somehow pushed to the very corner of the bed by his twenty-pound baby. There were even a few times when a harsh tug on his hair acted as an alarm clock. When he turned around to confront the culprit, however, she was fast asleep, arm slung over one of the many squishmallows that had worked their way into his room.

Having her with him was worth all bald spots and bruises, though. It’s bad, he knows it, and night by night, Yul becomes more attached. Getting her acclimated to daycare had been hell, to say the least. He knows co-sleeping has possibly made her more reluctant to socialize than she already was.

Still, Jungkook can’t help but wonder who’s more dependent on the other. When he thinks about it, undoubtedly, the answer is him. Because as long as he wakes up to a little foot in his back, a fist in his hair, and the smell of green apple baby soap, he has a reason to keep going.

“Don’t you think she deserves better?”

Her sharp words swipe through the air like a blade. Even you feel the cut, cautiously eyeing Jungkook. You can’t read his expression, but something about it makes you rub a comforting hand over his shoulder. He doesn’t react to your touch at all.

There’s a sullen pause before he finally answers. “I think Yul deserves everything.”

“Right… Goodnight, Jungkook.” She hangs up before he has the chance to respond. Seulgi always struck you as a level-headed person, albeit a bit aloof, but never unfair or cruel. You assume she’s just being spiteful, because anyone who knows Jungkook would never question his dedication to his daughter. That ugly, bitter, jealous side of you thinks maybe she just doesn’t know him the way you do.

“Are you okay?” You whisper as if approaching a wounded animal, ready to attack.

“On Fridays,” he starts, eyes shamefully dropping to his fidgeting hands. “Yul spends the day with my parents.”

His incessant need to defend his parenting makes your heart ache. “Hey, I-”

“She’s usually asleep by the time I leave work.”

“Kook,” you interrupt his rambling. “You don’t have to explain; I understand... I think you’re an amazing father.”

Lifting his head, Jungkook looks you directly in the eyes. His are glassy and gentle now, but the fingers that hook into your lace bra, right between the cups, are rough and abrasive. “C’mere,” he gruffs, pulling you over the center console until you’re uncomfortably sandwiched between his solid chest and the steering wheel. There’s no effort to make room for you; he doesn’t slide his seat back. He doesn’t compromise any of his space for you. You accept it, steadying yourself on his shoulders with a grunt.

Sometimes, you question what your presence in his life truly is. Are you an escape or a punching bag? Are you merely something he can sink his nails and teeth into when angry? Something he can break without consequence? The sound of thread ripping and buttons popping fills the car as he slides the silk off your shoulders, letting the delicate material fall to the floor without a care in the world.

“You wore this for me?” A fingertip lightly traces the petite swell of your breasts, barely bulging over the frilly black cups of your push-up. The sensation sets your skin ablaze.

“Mhm,” you confirm, “I wanted today to be special.”

“You care about me?” Moonlight cuts through the dewy window, beaming against the side of his face, highlighting the taut pull in his features. His question seems genuine, but the answer is obvious, isn’t it? Simply being here with him makes the entire foundation of your soul, all of your morals and beliefs, crumble to pieces. Against your better judgment, you’re still here.

Yearning. Trying. Fighting.

You swipe a thumb over his thick brows, trying to ease the angry crinkle that’s become a permanent fixture on his beautiful face. You comb through his hair. It’s a little knotted, a little crunchy from old gel.

The answer should be obvious, but you don’t think Jungkook could internalize love if it was right in front of him.

“I care about you,” you say truthfully, “a lot.”

The stars in his eyes gleam for a moment, glowing bright and vibrant, before they’re engulfed by the suffocating blackness of his pupils.

“You poor thing,” Jungkook tuts, trailing his fingers up your neck before grasping your jaw with a single hand. The baby fat of your cheeks mushes together from the force. “You're gonna let me do whatever I want to you, aren't you?”

The tone of his voice has your heart fluttering and your stomach churning with thick hot desire. Gripping his wrist with both hands, you moan out a ‘yes,’ unconsciously grinding down onto his slack-covered bulge. He’s barely touched you yet and your cunt is leaking, making a mess of your itty bitty thong and his work suit.

“Right, of course.” With the same hand holding you, Jungkook taps his index finger against your glossy pout, “open.” Just barely parting your lips, you let the thick digit slide between them. Immediately, he presses down against your tongue, trying to coax a gag out of you. “What if I want to fuck this pretty little mouth until you cry? How does that sound? Would you like that?”

Inhaling deeply, you nod. That sounds absolutely perfect.

“I don’t know if you can handle it, though,” he lulls, retracting his finger before plunging it back in, all the up to his inked knuckle. You squint in defiance. He’s teasing, but you can’t fight the tinge of anger in your chest. If there’s one thing you can do, it’s suck a mean dick. Looking him directly in the eyes, you swirl your tongue against his palm with ease, not choking once. You feel his cock twitch against the supple flesh of your inner thigh.

Unamused by your antics, Jungkook yanks his hand back angrily, making a string of saliva drip down your chin. Maybe a full face of makeup wasn’t the best idea. “Get in the backseat,” he orders huskily, wiping the damp skin on his blazer. Biting back a smirk, you climb off his lap and wriggle over the center console. You situate yourself on the cool leather, laying down and assuming face-fuck position.

The yellow glow of headlights swims across the ceiling as a passing car drifts down the misty highway. This is the first time in five months that you and Jungkook are out in the open, blissfully oblivious to the possibility of getting caught. It’s childish, but you hope someone sees. For a moment in time—in a wandering eye’s glimpse of reality—you’re his and he's yours.

“Couldn’t wait until we got to the hotel, huh?” Jungkook huffs when he opens the door. Giddily, you lean your head back over the edge of the seat, coming face to face with the tent in his pants. His hands frantically work to unbuckle his belt, desperate to bury himself inside of you. His favorite escape. “Well, since you want to act like a fucking whore-” his pants fall to his knees with a clang when he unbuttons them, “-I’ll treat you like one.”

“Please,” you whimper, noting the wet spot on his gray Calvin Kleins. Reaching up, you lightly drag your nails across it, teasingly pinching the head of his cock before he tugs his boxers down. A big greedy smile spreads across your face as his semi springs out.

The sight makes your lips part. It’s so pretty. Something about how the moonlight catches the glowy pink tip, peeking out from under his foreskin. The light accentuates every ridge and vein on his girthy shaft. So yummy it has you drooling-

Jungkook’s right. You’re a complete and utter whore.

“Is this what you wanted?” He peers down at you over his prominent nose, one hand clutching the roof of his Mercedes. The other wraps around his thick shaft, giving it a few languid pumps, getting himself fully erect for you. Teasingly, he taps the head against your plump lips. Unable to resist, you press a sweet peck and a kitten lick to his silky frenulum. “Uh-uh,” he chuckles, raising his delicious cock just beyond your reach. “You know better than that. Ask for permission.”

“Wanna suck it,” you pout, squirming impatiently. “Please?”

Suddenly, his heavy cock slaps your cheek with a wet thud.

“Please, what?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl.” The praise is contradicted by another light smack to your face, this time with an open palm. Taking the hint, you open your mouth wide, tongue sticking out in anticipation. Jungkook watches you intently with furrowed brows and a slack jaw as he feeds you the first few inches. As soon as the salty flavor of his arousal hits your tastebuds, you moan obnoxiously, back arching off the leather beneath you.

He starts slowly, using your breathing to guide his movements—pausing on the exhales and giving you a bit more on the inhales. He does this until the entirety of his length is shoved down your warm, wet mouth.

The hem of his black dress shirt flows over you, obstructing his view. He places it between his teeth with an annoyed groan, wanting to watch the swell in your neck as you swallow him like a snake. “You take it so well,” he grunts over the material, “the best I’ve ever had.”

Tears clinging to your lashes finally lose grip, trickling down your skin until they get lost in the thick, dark swoops of your dangling hair. For once, you mean something more to him than she does. It’s insignificant and shameful, but at least it's something.

“Are you okay, __?” Jungkook asks, sensing the shift as your soul splays before him like your half-naked body. Stepping back, he gives you some reprieve.

With red eyes and drool bubbling at the corners of your lips, you moan out an implied ‘yes.’ His confession has you on cloud nine.

“Do you remember the sign?”

Again, you hum.

“Can you show me?”

Lazily, you tap his outer thigh three times, a hard ‘stop’ symbol you had agreed upon months ago while hanging off the edge of a hotel bed, preparing for Jungkook to fuck your mouth for the very first time.

“Good girl,” he says before rutting his entire length into you again. He’s so deep that the soft skin of his scrotum nudges against the tip of your nose, and the dense patch of trimmed hair on his pubic bone tickles your chin. Reaching down, Jungkook grips your neck, reveling in the feeling of it stretching against his palm as he moves in and out steadily.

Eventually, he hunches over, hands wandering down and holding your temples for better leverage. Despite the harsh digs of his hips, his delicate fingers brush away a few strands of hair stuck to your damp cheeks. The sweet gesture makes you whimper around him in pure ecstasy, moving your head to meet his thrusts for extra stimulation, circling your flat tongue around the base.

The whistles of the midnight breeze and the murmur of passing cars fade, and all you hear is Jungkook. The melodic, venomous praises pouring out of him poison your mind with optimism. He takes one last plunge, so powerful it sends you sliding back against the seat. To steady yourself, you grip his legs, attempting to ease your triggered gag reflex. He holds you there, cock stuffed to the brim as he slams a hand against the black steel of his car, shirt falling from his teeth as he moans ardently. You gasp when he finally pulls out, leaking tip still connected to you by a bridge of spit and precum.

“Why-” Cough. “Why did you stop?”

Your question is met with only the sound of rustling fabric and the chime of his hanging belt buckle as he removes his suit jacket and throws it into the passenger seat. Grabbing you by the band of your lingerie, Jungkook hauls your frame closer.

He snaps your taut bra strap against your shoulder with a single finger. “Take this off.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter, still trying to catch your breath as you sit up at the waist and unclip your bra. A shiver runs down your spine as the cool night air licks your exposed chest. This time when you lie down, you’re positioned under his spread legs. He stands over you with such authority and dominance. The underside view of his hard cock looks absolutely menacing.

“These,” Jungkook’s large palms grab at your tits, jiggling them, “I wanna fuck ‘em.”

“There isn’t anything for you to fuck,” you giggle.

After years of insecurity, and crying over vengeful comments from dumb boys you had broken things off with, you finally came to terms with your appearance. Your tits are small, and that’s okay. Plus, the cute little nipple piercings you had gotten a while back were definitely a confidence booster. There wasn’t an ounce of self-hatred in your comment.

Jungkook doesn’t take it that way, though.

“Shut up.” With a huff, he steps back and hunches, reaching down to deliver a harsh swat to your cheek. It was a little rougher than usual, and you wince upon impact. Instantly, he soothes the skin with a gentle pet. “Your tits are… perfect.”

Perfect? Your cheeks and aching pussy heat up at the compliment.

Squeezing your chest, Jungkook brushes his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. He pays extra attention to the silver barbells, decorated with little sparkly peaches at the ends. “These are new,” he notes, tugging on the jewelry. You let out a breathy moan, legs clenching together, inner thighs embarrassingly wet. “Sheesh,” he laughs, “someone’s sensitive.”

“Yeah… keep going.”

“I like them. They’re cute on you.”

Throughout your acquaintances, Jungkook was rarely this vocal. Maybe some praise sprinkled in here and there, but seldom anything substantial. Tonight, however, he’s been dishing out sweet talk like candy. You can’t pinpoint precisely what, but something’s changed.

Whatever it is, it fills you with awful, wishful hope.

Jungkook shuffles closer, teasing the teat of your pierced bud with his sticky tip. The dreamy sensation has your eyes rolling back into your skull. A glob of spit drops between the valley of your breasts before he spreads the wetness over your skin with his shaft. He has to use a death grip to force your tits into a soft plushness, perfect for him to slot himself into. Again, you feel that fucking ring embedding itself into your skin like a nasty tick.

Cautiously, he guides his pulsing cock between your constrained breasts. A beautiful symphony of groans lulls out as he throws his head back in pleasure, long locks dancing along his clammy neck.

“You like that?” You hum, taunting him. “Tell me how it feels.”

It takes him a minute to collect his thoughts, eyes trained on your tits pillowing around him, focusing on the dewy sheen of your nipples and chest as his oozing cock spills onto your skin. “It feels-” his hips stutter, “-so fucking good.”

The way his teeth snarl around the hushed curse makes you smile, eyes closing as you relish in his pleasure. Maybe you’re too horny, or perhaps the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is making you crazy, but you wish you could live in this moment forever. Wallowing in the darkness, frozen in time with him. Yeah, you think, that would be wonderful.

“You can touch yourself,” he comments, spotting your clenched legs, desperate for some pressure.

“S’okay,” you mumble, reaching around to caress his balls. His thighs tremble a bit against your arms. “Just wanna make you feel good.”

“Can you-” he grunts, stomach clenching as he begins to feel that familiar pooling in the base of his thick shaft. “Hold them for me. I’ll take care of you after, just- let me cum.”

Obliging, you replace his hands with your own, squishing your tits together for him. The visual of you lying under him, complacent and willing, sends him spiraling. A guttural roar echoes throughout the empty road as he speeds up. “Tighter,” he orders; you listen. The saliva and precum are beginning to rub off, making the friction of his chaotic thrusts sting your skin. He notices, letting another string of spit fall from his mouth onto your flesh. “Be good and take it. I’m almost there.”

By now, Jungkook should know you’d endure any pain to be with him.

The darkest parts of your brain tell you he’s well aware of that fact.

After a few more humps and lulled words of encouragement, he’s bursting at the seams. Just before he blows, Jungkook steps back, tight fist jerking himself frantically as he spills his seed onto your chest. Your eyes dart from his angry cock to his fucked out expressions. The moonlight shines behind him like a glowing aura as he finishes with a scrunched nose and his tongue between his teeth. He looks angelic. You moan under him, flinching when a stray spurt lands on your chin.

Fucked out and dazed, he laughs softly, running a hand through his hair as his chest heaves. Collecting the liquid with his finger, he brings it to your giggling lips. The taste makes you hum as you lazily begin rubbing his cum all over your tits.

“Really?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. “You’re already starting?”

“Starting what?” You pout, batting your lashes at him and circling your nipple lightly with the tip of your nail, trying your best to look oblivious and innocent. Well, as innocent as you possibly can while literally covered in sperm.

“Don’t play dumb. You know what you’re doing.”

See, in many ways, Jungkook is different from any other guy you’ve been with prior. For one, you didn’t meet via horny messages on Tinder at 1 a.m. For two, he’s older, meaning he’s much more intelligent and much more experienced. After years and years of honing in on his craft, he just knows how to fuck. Jungkook is one of the rare few penis-havers in the world who can orgasm back to back; no refractory period necessary. Truly a hidden gem.

To put it simply, the man is a fucking faucet—one that you can turn off and on whenever you want.

As if on cue, Jungkook twirls his inked finger, indicating for you to turn around. The other hand squeezes his cock just below the crown to cut off circulation, keeping himself erect. With that, your white converses are planted flat onto the sparse grass as you bend over the back seat, leaning your weight on your elbows.

It's like whiplash when Jungkook's aggressive persona drops, and he's running his hands all over your body. Up your thighs, over your back, down your arms. He blooms petal-soft kisses on your bare shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Can I go in like this? Or do you need some foreplay?”

“This is fine,” you murmur, jarred by his sudden tenderness. “Perfect, actually.”

With a hushed ‘alright,’ Jungkook reaches over you to rummage through the pocket of his discarded blazer. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as he pulls out a square foil packet. Condoms were an unwavering constant in your weekend escapades. Jungkook always wears condoms. Normally, that would be a great thing; however, in this situation, it’s like a stab to the heart…

Because if he’s adamant about using protection with you, then that means he’s still sleeping with her, doesn’t it? And it’s not like you can even ask or scold him about it. She’s his wife, after all. You’re the outsider.

Jungkook hooks his thumb into your panties and pulls them aside. Your glistening folds are on full display, waiting to get pounded mercilessly right on the side of the road. He shoves three digits into your mouth, letting your drool on them a bit before pressing them to your wet cunt. Opening your folds with his index and ring fingers, he lightly dips the middle inside you. He collects some arousal and spreads it to your clit in feathery flicking motions. You cry out, feeling the shocks of a blossoming orgasm.

“Already dripping, I see.” You can practically hear his cocky, satisfied grin as he stands straight and rolls the condom down his length. “Always so sensitive.”

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, “I always get like this with you.”

“I know you do.” Pulling a cheek to the side, Jungkook cards his sheathed tip through your entrance, making sure to nudge under your clitoral hood with every swipe. Lewd wet sounds ring in your ears as he tortures your hole relentlessly.

“Kook,” you huff, reaching back to dig your manicured, almond-shaped nails into his skin. “Just put it in!”

Suddenly, Jungkook slams your torso onto the leather. In one swift motion, he’s catching your wrists, pinning them both to your lower back with a single hand.

“I’ll give you what you want just-” releasing the back of your neck, he spanks you so hard you recoil, “be patient.”

Despite his words, you wait no longer than a minute before he’s guiding his dreamy member right where you want it. Jungkook always gives in quickly. How could he not when you’re ass up, face down, and practically begging? As he sinks into you, and you feel that familiar burn from the initial stretch, your eyes roll back, mouth opening around a silent scream.

Usually, Jungkook likes to overwhelm you with his entire length all at once. There’s some hesitation this time as he slides in only halfway before stopping. Too much hesitation for your liking. You’re confident he’s testing you. Your assumption is verified when he speaks in that annoying, condescending voice.

“If you want it so bad, come get it.”

“You’re so,” breaking free from his grasp, you press your palms into the seat and lift yourself up with a grumble, “infuriating.”

He hums halfheartedly, head dropping to watch you work yourself onto him. Only a single stroke in, and he can already see you coating him in a shiny, milky dew. “So fucking wet…”

“Can’t help it,” you peep, taking him to the hilt and circling your hips, trying to savor the feeling. You’re no stranger to his cock; how good it makes you feel. You spend every Friday night bathing in that pleasure, forgoing parties and hangouts with your best friends for a romp in the five-star hotel sheets with Jungkook. Still, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to commit his touch to memory. Perhaps, despite your denial, you recognize that this is temporary. Deep down, you know that someday, all you’ll have left of him is a tragic echo. “I love the way you make me feel.”

“Me too,” he gasps, guiding your movements as his fingers dig into your hips. Clearly interpreting your admission differently than you had meant it. “Your pussy’s like heaven.”

High on praise and drunk on the sounds you’re coaxing out of him, you whine, dragging your cunt up every inch of his throbbing length before slamming back. Hopefully, the dense forest behind you is enough to insulate the pornographic wails ripping through you. Even if someone somewhere hears, you can’t bring yourself to give a damn. Not when heady pleasure and adrenaline course through your veins like blood.

Just when you’re about to collapse, arms giving out underneath you, Jungkook grabs you by the neck and holds you flush against his toned chest. “Don’t you run,” he chuckles. The low baritone rumble goes straight to your clit. His warm breath gusts over your skin, contrasting the chilly night air. “Don’t give up on me.”

He’s pounding into you now, choking you tighter than he ever has, but he pecks you so delicately. Lips barely ghosting over the shell of your ear. So gentle and tender. As tears stream down your cheeks for the second time tonight, you can’t help but feel there’s a hidden meaning behind his words.

“What’s wrong?” He smirks, tilting your face, wanting you to look him in the eye as you fall apart. The visual nearly makes you combust. His stringy hair is sticking to his cheeks, flushed from exertion. Even the tattoos littering the expanse of his neck are splotched pink and red. Twisting in his hold, you grab a fistful of his damp waves, fingers tickling his short undercut. “What do you want, baby?”

“Cum…”

“You wanna cum?”

“Please, please, please.” Weak whimpers punch out of you in tandem with his brutal thrusts.

“What do you say?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl,” he rewards you with a smack to your sensitive clit, “you can cum. I’ve got you.”

And with his permission, you’re cumming. Your legs shake violently as you’re overcome with blinding, electric gratification. If it wasn’t for Jungkook’s strong arms supporting you, you would’ve toppled face-first into the seat. He fucks you through the height of your orgasm; hips never ceasing, even when everything becomes so intense and sensitive that your body instinctively tries to push him away. He watches your face intently, reading your expressions to ensure he’s milked every last drop of your orgasm before he lets you fall onto the leather.

Even in your hazy state, you catch the breathy string of curses, a telltale sign of his own impending orgasm. “Fuck!” He groans, removing the condom to paint your ass and lower back in hot, white ropes.

It’s funny, really.

He refuses to cum with you or inside you, something so intimate and special, but he has no qualms cumming on you. It’s almost like he’s marking you, burning himself into your flesh. Consuming a piece of you every time your bodies come together as one.

And all the while, his mind is somewhere else as his body swallows you alive.

“Look at you,” Jungkook laughs, smoothing a palm up and down your spine, rubbing his semen into your skin the same way you had earlier. “I’ve made a mess out of you.”

That’s true in more ways than one…

Lost in post-nut clarity, your brain barely registers Jungkook maneuvering you both into the car. Closing the door behind him, he moves you onto his lap, your back pressed against his sweaty button-up. Peering down, you see his slacks and boxers still around his ankles, black dress shoes poking out underneath. You’re in only a thong and sneakers, and your makeup is definitely melted. The two of you must look like the biggest sluts ever.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook mutters, noticing your delirious giggles.

“Oh, nothing,” you hum, leaning into him. Habitually, he wraps both of his inked arms around your middle. You despise how incredibly natural and serendipitous it feels, almost like you’re meant to be in them.

God __, get your head out of the clouds and return to Earth.

Life isn’t a romance novel, and you’re not a child anymore. You shouldn’t see the world as quartz-colored and magical. The man is seven years older than you. He has a wife and child. Logistically, it could never, ever work…

But if soulmates exist as they do in the books, you wish on every falling star that Jungkook is yours.

“What are you thinking about?” You coo softly, turning your head to stare into the abyss of his infinite eyes.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he can’t resist lowering his sinful hand to your most private area, cupping your sex unabashedly. “I want more.”

“You always want more.”

“So do you,” he laughs, pointing out the way you grind into his touch. Nuzzling into your shoulder, he nips your skin and then soothes his tongue over it like an insincere apology. “Just one more time, okay?”

You nod, head leaning back on his shoulder as you succumb to his skilled fingers, rubbing your clit in tight circles. Jungkook pauses in contemplation before popping his glistening fingers into his mouth. When the taste hits his tongue, his face contorts. He even moans dreamily like you’re the most delicious dessert he’s experienced. The scene has your own brows furrowing, lips parting at just how hot and bothered he’s got you.

Sensually, he trails the wet pads down, ghosting over a nipple, teasing you on their treacherous journey to your waiting core. He slides them in your wet cunt seamlessly, curling right into your g-spot. They move in a dip and wave that drives you wild, a wet suction noise sounding in the enclosed space. Turned on by your purrs and mewls, Jungkook subtly ruts against you, his plumping cock sliding between your cheeks.

“You’re already close, aren’t you?” He tuts patronizingly. “Gonna cum around my fingers, sweetheart?”

“No…”

“No?”

“Wanna cum with you…”

He stops, realizing what you’re alluding to, before pulling his fingers out and tapping your clit gently. “There’s another condom in my pocket. Can you hand it to me?”

“We don’t need it.”

“Yes, we do. Don’t be foolish.”

“... I’m on the pill,” you suggest hesitantly. Once again, you’re nothing but stupid and irresponsible when it comes to Jungkook. You just want to be with him, that’s all.

“__,” he starts, voice shadowed with sternness, “give me the condom.”

Realizing he won’t budge, you do as he asks and fish it from his blazer, watching idly as he goes through all the steps—stroking himself to full mass, rolling on a barrier, and then positioning you between his spread legs as he guides you down onto his length with a hand on your hip.

Cyclical.

Like clockwork, your jaw drops, eyes screwing shut as you let him invade your space and infiltrate your mind. You don’t believe the two of you have ever tried this position before, but it feels so fucking good. His cock is so deep you can feel it in your fucking stomach. It’s obvious from his groaning and the aggressive spank he gives you that the unexplored angle is affecting him too.

Outside, light rain begins chiming against the steel roof of his car as you take the first shallow rise of your hips.

Scratch everything you’ve said about this not being a romance novel.

Distracted by the calming sound, you thoroughly miscalculate how much space you have in his sleek Mercedes Benz and bonk your head on the ceiling.

“Ow,” you wince with an embarrassed giggle.

Hissing at the impact, Jungkook clutches your head, massaging the area gently. “Are you okay?” His voice is muffled, and you can tell he’s trying his best not to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” You shout playfully, slapping his knee.

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.” Chuckling, he moves your hair and places a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. “You’re cute, that's all.”

Cute? You swoon.

“Alright baby, keep going. Don’t stop,” Jungkook orders, the heel of his calloused palms pushing at your ass, encouraging you to bounce on his needy cock. A fucked-out sigh escapes him, head falling back for a split second before it jerks back up again, not wanting to miss the view of your perky cheeks rippling as they collide with his solid pelvis. “This position is so sexy.” Overwhelmed, he doesn’t know where to put his hands. He chokes you for a moment, plays with your tits, swats them, grabs your hips, and then finally settles on your clit, flicking it like a light switch.

“Jungkook!” You wail, knees knocking together as you brace yourself. Men you’ve dated in the past struggled to get you off. Sure, they made you feel good, but they couldn’t quite bring you to the edge. It only ever took Jungkook a matter of minutes to have you whimpering and shaking, begging for release. “I can’t take so much! I can’t!”

Ignoring your pleas, Jungkook pilots your right arm around his shoulder, sending you flush against his frame once more. Dipping his head, he sucks the closest nipple into his mouth. Caught off guard, you’re so overstimulated that your hips come to a grinding halt.

“Move,” he commands with his lips sealed around your piercing, sending dizzying vibrations to your sensitive bud.

“I can’t,” you whimper, back arching off his chest as you try to calm all five tingling senses.

“Yes, you can.”

“No…”

Jeon Jungkook was never one to take no for an answer.

Scooting further down the seat, his large hands clasp behind your knees. He lifts your legs until the heels of your white sneakers are on either side of the driver’s headrest. In this new position, he’s able to pound up into you freely, relentlessly beating into clenching walls. Hitting every single delicious spot inside of you. “Jungkook, please!”

“Please, what?” Honestly, you have no clue what you’re begging for. All you know is that his mushroom tip rigorously stimulating your g-spot is going to have you gushing at any moment. His guttural, sensual groaning does nothing to slow your approaching orgasm. “You want more?”

As if you weren’t already gasping for air, Jungkook raises your legs to your head, knees locked onto his inner elbows. His fingers intertwine behind your neck, thumbs pressing into the base of your throat as he folds you in half.

A full fucking nelson.

“Watch me fuck it.” With a stern grip, he forces your gaze to his thick shaft, sliding in and out of your sopping cunt. Your vision is watery, but you can clearly see just how turned on you are, creamy juices coating his entire shaft. “Open it, baby. Watch what I do to you.”

Reaching both hands under your thighs, you spread your lips, getting a better look at him completely destroying you.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” Jungkook grunts, speech slurred as his arousal lulls him into a delirious, catatonic state. “Tell me what you see, baby.”

“So pretty, Kook.” You’re simply playing into his dirty talk, but the sight of your bodies connecting, becoming one, is profoundly gorgeous. “So wet…”

“Yeah? Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

That sends him into a frenzy, thrusts becoming so punctuated and violent that his cock accidentally slips out.

“Put it back in, put it back in!” You chant, frantically shoving his length into you. The yelp you chortle out is accompanied by the sound of your hand smacking against the foggy car window as your climax engulfs you. “I love it!”

“I love yo-”

He quickly cuts himself off, but everything stops when the sentence fragment hits the air.

Is your brain playing sick, twisted jokes on you… or was he really just about to say he loved you?

Before you can even process what’s happening, your biological responses take over, sending through the most earth-shattering, world-bending, mind-boggling orgasm you’ve ever had. Everything goes blank. Your eyes cloud with splotches and stars. Your ears ring with static and white noise, blurring the sound of Jungkook cumming underneath you, and the pouring rain outside, splashing against concrete.

This time, he doesn’t pull out, just works through both of your orgasms with gentle ruts and vulnerable whimpers.

After you’ve both calmed down and your heaves have diminished to a slow, even pattern, he pulls out, crumpling the used condom into a loose napkin he found in the center console. Still on his lap and in his arms, you watch intently as Jungkook leans his head back, eyes closing as he inhales deeply. To you, he looks almost… peaceful.

The moon trickles in through the thin streams on the window, reflecting on his face like stained glass—something that was once so clear and pure now jaded with somber shades of blue. Sad, but still beautiful, you think.

Delicately, you trace a finger over the black ink decorating his skin. You sit silently for a while, basking in the comfortable aura, simply enjoying one another’s company, before you finally speak.

“Why this?” You peep, pointing to the dainty letters at the base of his neck.

“It’s my daughter’s name.” He counters playfully, the faintest hint of a smile on his pierced lips.

“Well, duh, I know that,” you roll your eyes with a giggle, “but why here?”

“Yul is like air to me.”

Humming in contemplation, you continue your journey over the endless swirls and loops. During sex, the first three buttons of his shirt popped open, exposing the canvas of his chest. You feel a thick, dark cloud loom over you when you reach a certain tattoo, the one that’s plagued your mind ever since you first saw it.

Another name is engraved right above his heart in the same delicate font as Yul’s:

Seol.

“Yul, please. Enough.” If Jungkook had a dollar for every time he's said that in the last twenty-two minutes, he’d be nearly as rich as his boss, sitting directly in front of him on a very important Zoom call. “Daddy is working.”

Jumping at the sudden inflection of his voice, the little girl on his lap pulls her tiny hand away. For the most part, Yul was well-behaved. However, working from home proved to be an obstacle that he and his clingy toddler have yet to overcome.

She’s interrupted his meeting three times already. First, cutting off his proposal with the Baby Shark theme song, blaring from her Pinkfong tablet that he’d forgotten to mute. Second, peeking above his desk with her space buns and doe eyes to show his colleagues the latest addition to her squishmallow collection. The last straw was when she squeezed his nose.

With watery eyes and warbled lips, Yul blinks at Jungkook, heartbroken and confused as to why he didn’t make that funny noise she loves so much. Quickly, her gaze averts to her chunky legs, swinging aimlessly as she attempts to hold back the tears.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Jungkook sighs, tacking on an apology before turning his screen off. “Bunny,” he lifts her chin with his index finger, another palm flat on her protruding tummy, “please, don’t cry. You’re not in trouble. Daddy just-”

The ring of a doorbell interrupts him.

“__?” Jungkook questions, baby at his hip as he stands in the doorway before you. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp. You weren’t expecting to see him.

Usually, you spoke to Seulgi. You’ve only ever seen Jungkook in passing, sparing quick greetings before he’s out the door. It worked in your favor, really, because for whatever reason, you felt extremely awkward around him.

Almost like that gross nervousness you get when you’re around someone you find so incredibly attractive it makes you uncomfortable…

Maybe it’s because he’s covered in tattoos and piercings. Maybe it’s because he’s a dad. Your group of fellow horny twenty-something-year-old friends have told you mythical stories and fantasies about older men. Freshly turned thirty-year-old men. Men like Jungkook. Dilfs. Something about that potent dad nut… Like, you know it works.

It’s inappropriate; you know it is. You’ve always tried your best to ignore the feral thoughts.

Today seems to be putting your mental strength to the test because Jungkook is dressed in baggy gray sweats, long dark hair slicked back into a ponytail. A few loose strands dangle devilishly in front of his eyes, taunting you.

“I-It’s 10… I’m supposed to be babysitting.”

“I’m working from home today. My wife didn’t tell you?”

With wide eyes and hot cheeks, you shake your head. “I’m sorry for bothering you,” you stutter, stepping back and preparing to make a mad dash to your hand-me-down Honda Civic. “I’ll just… be on my way then.”

“Actually.” An icy grip on your wrist stops you. “I could use some help. This one-” he nods his head towards Yul, stuck to him like velcro, “-is being a bit needy today.”

One look at her turns your flustered gape into a smile. The past month with her has been more difficult than you’d imagined. Yul was incredibly sweet and intuitive, but unbearably shy. Building a relationship with the girl was challenging, but you were determined to overcome it. “No way,” you frown animatedly, tickling her leg with the tip of your finger, “Yul would never.”

A giggle or two had been the goal. Instead, she buries her face into her father’s shoulder.

“Don’t take it personally,” Jungkook orders, noticing the defeated slump in your shoulders. “She’s always like this with new people.”

Seulgi had warned you that Yul would take a while to come around. Hopefully, it’ll happen organically. But for now, a little gift or two wouldn’t hurt your efforts, you supposed last night while running errands. Reaching into your purse, you pull out a bottle of non-toxic, baby-friendly nail polish. “Yul, look what I have!”

“Wow,” Jungkook plays along, gently nudging her head out of his neck. “Bunny, look!”

He calls her Bunny?

You’re in for it now.

Plump fingers wrap around the plastic, taking it out of your own with an awe-stricken stare. She holds it up right in front of Jungkook’s nose. “Pink.”

“Mhm, that’s right,” he confirms, pecking her temple. “Now, Daddy has to get back to work. Can you stay with __ for a bit?”

She looks at him, then at you, then at him again, then back at you, and finally, landing on the nail polish, giving her father a reluctant nod. You knew it would come in handy. Despite her agreeance, Yul still stretches the neck of his shirt with her tiny fists as she’s transferred into your arms.

Somehow, you managed to survive that painfully awkward encounter…

Only to be thrown into another one immediately after.

See, you’ve always known Yul was a daddy’s girl. On good days, the toddler would grab you by the hand and guide you around the house, giving you a tour of everything that belonged to her father. His shoes at the door. His coat on the hook. Even taking you into the bathroom to show you his shampoo bottle. But that fact was never more apparent than now, as Yul stands in the middle of the living room on the verge of tears.

“Daddy?”

“He’s working, sweetheart. Remember?” You coo on your knees in front of her. You’re quick to redirect her. “I like your shoes.”

The sniffles stop as she glances down at her white sneakers. “Mine…” she takes a hesitant step back, mistaking your compliment as an attempt to swindle her out of them.

“That’s right,” you laugh, “they’re so pretty, just like you.”

She blinks at you for a moment, and then begins stomping her little foot: heel first. When she’s finally able to kick off her left shoe, she bends all the way over, pressing her palms flat against the hardwood floor. It’s the most uncoordinated way you’ve ever seen anyone pick something up.

Without warning, Yul throws the shoe across the room. Well, that had been her intention, you assume. She had cocked her arm back too far and released too early, making it land behind her.

Oh no, she hates you.

With an excited grunt and a bounce, Yul points to the sneaker—its clear sole sparkling pink and purple.

“Oh,” you sigh in relief. “They light up?”

“Yesh.” Plopping right onto her butt, she takes the other one off, repeating the process. “Like this!” Her arms stretch out and she clenches her two little front teeth, executing the most stellar charade of a light you’ve ever seen.

It’s a small breakthrough, but you’ll take it.

Then you paint her nails, just like you said you would. She’s as patient as a toddler could be, but her tiny toe keeps curling under the tickle of the brush, making pink polish bleed outside of the lines.

“My goodness,” you groan, admiring the messy, albeit adorable, result. “You’re so cute! Wait until your dad sees you.”

Yul shrieks wildly, smacking both hands over her mouth as she hobbles to her feet. You watch with confused giggles as the milk-drunk baby stumbles down the corridor. You figure out where she's going too late.

Yul stands on her tippy toes, jumping to click open the door to Jungkook’s office with a loud creak.

“Yul!” You whisper-shout. “Don’t-”

“Daddy!” She calls, stepping a single foot into the room, showing off the fresh paint job. “So cute!”

Literally, your only job today was to keep Yul preoccupied while Jungkook worked, and you failed. Your breath catches in your throat, awaiting his response.

“So pretty,” he gasps, “now go play, baby. I’m almost done.”

A relieved exhale flies past your lips.

Something you’ve picked up on from years of babysitting is that little girls aren’t allowed to compliment themselves. They’re always told it’s rude or conceited. Jungkook does neither, and you find that so refreshing.

“Close the door, please,” he orders before she runs away, “gently.” Yul does her very best to shut the door quietly and then sprints back to you.

The next few hours go smoothly. You discovered that the green-hating toddler has an affinity for avocados after giving her a bite of your toast. “Mmm!” She had hummed, looking at you with wide eyes. With a full belly and squishmallow in hand, Yul went out like a light for her afternoon nap, giving you time to catch up on some reading.

“How was she?” You didn’t even hear him come out of his office, so the deep voice makes you jump, eyes tracking the sound. He’s leaning against a kitchen counter, one tattooed hand stuffed in his pocket and the other wrapped around a water bottle. It’s a thick one too, and his fingers still touch.

“Better,” you cough, “she’s sleeping now.”

He hums halfheartedly, dark irises boring into you as he takes a sip. Without Yul to soften the edges, Jungkook is… intimidating, to say the least. “What are you reading?”

“The Catcher in the Rye…” you peep, quickly closing it. “I know, it’s kinda lame.”

“No, not lame at all. Anyone who thinks that is lying to themselves… or is just being a contrarian.” He leans his elbows against the dark granite island, fingers crossing as he stares at you. You’re sitting idle across the room, but his presence looms over you. He has this way of making you feel like he’s in your head, listening to everything you’re thinking.

You pray he’s not. If he is, you'll definitely be fired.

“I can’t tell which one you are yet.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but the ‘yet’ makes you come clean, shifting in your spot on the leather couch. “... Both.”

“Right,” he smirks, tongue fiddling with his lip ring, almost like he’s taunting you. “That’s one of my favorite books, actually. I relate to it in many ways.”

Your fingers dance across the red cover, concealing hundreds of pages of isolation, emptiness, and the heavy dread of passing time. What an awful thing to relate to. Sometimes, when you get too engrossed in the text, glimmers of yourself bleed within the lines too.

“You’re an English major, right?”

“Oh, um, I’m not in school at the moment… I just read for fun.”

“Well, you have an Associate’s degree.” Him knowing that information about you makes you think he asked the previous question with the intention of baiting you into this conversation. “Why not get your Bachelor’s?”

“I don’t know. It’s… complicated.”

Why is he interrogating you? What does he want? For you to confess that the fear of becoming a full-fledged adult makes you not want to go back to college?

“Life is complicated. You’d be ridiculous to not go back.” The audacity should make you mad, but he speaks with so much authority that you’re dumbfounded. His head tilts, eyes squinting as they shift to the ceiling, debating something. His tongue clicks when he finally makes his decision. “Follow me; I have something I want to show you.”

With the curl of two thick fingers, Jungkook calls you to follow him down the hallway. You blink for a moment, gushing at the suggestive motion of his hand. Shaking your head at the evil, intrusive thought, you rise to your feet.

Just like a child, you have to skip to catch up to his long strides. Your gaze trails along white walls; there are pictures of him and Yul, Yul and Seulgi, but not a single one of them all together.

Now that you think about it, any affection you’ve ever seen in the household was reserved for Yul and Yul only. Seems like trouble in paradise…

You shouldn’t speculate.

The heavy wooden door creaks as Jungkook holds it open for you. You’re not sure what you expected his room to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. The rest of the house is pretty modern, consisting of sleek blacks, whites, and woods. Countertops designed with icy swirled marble. Everything has this cold, impersonal vibe, but this room is the total opposite. The walls are baby blue, decorated top to bottom with dreamy clouds. You spot a chubby yellow star peeking out from underneath one of them, adorned with a hand-painted smiley face. On his nightstand, there’s a pastel purple foldable record player. Standing behind it is a single vinyl: Beautiful Boy by John Lennon.

“Since you like to read,” Jungkook coughs, turning your attention to a sleek bookcase, stuffed to the brim with hundreds of titles you’ve never even heard of. “I figured you’d appreciate my collection.”

“Yeah, it’s…” The words trail off as you step forward. On a whim, your finger extends, tracing the delicate spine of a well-loved book. A low chuckle brings you back to reality; you peep, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you yank your hand away. “It’s… really cool.”

“You can borrow something if you’d like. Does anything catch your eye?” Plopping down onto the computer chair, Jungkook rummages through his desk drawer and pulls out a tiny black case. You didn’t even know he wore glasses, and when he nudges them comfily onto the bridge of his nose, you nearly melt. As if he could get any more attractive.

“N-No,” you stutter as he wheels closer. Even though you’re towering over him, you still feel so small in his presence. You pray to God he can’t sense how incredibly nervous he makes you. “Not really.”

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, you know,” he hums, low and sly. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No!” You peep in shock. Is the man a fucking mindreader?

“Right.” Jungkook peers over the rim of his lenses, dark eyes glimmering in the whimsical glow of the room. “So __, what do you want to be?”

“A teacher,” you say, playing with your fingers.

“My wife wanted to be a teacher, too.” He shoots you the softest, gentlest smile. “She ended up doing business instead.”

“Why?” You ask, gnawing on your bottom lip. You don’t mean to pry, but this is the first time you’ve ever actually talked to him in a meaningful way. Something about him intrigues you, like a puzzle you’re determined to find all the pieces to.

“Ah, well,” he sighs, inked fingers scratching at the back of his neck. “We figured it’d be best for our family if we both pursued more lucrative career paths. I switched my major from English to finance.” You light up at the confession, the similarity putting you at ease. “I’m sorry if I was abrasive earlier,” he frowns, “I settled down young and had to sacrifice a lot, so I encourage you to go for something that fulfills you.” With his elbows on his knees, he leans closer to you. “I think you’d be a fantastic teacher. You take care of my daughter well.”

“Thank you,” you peep, cheeks heating up at the compliment. “I mean… you didn’t have Yul that young.” He tried to comfort you, so it’s only fair you do the same, right? “I think your late twenties are a great time to have children.”

Almost immediately, his face drops, eyes glazing over with something so raw. So… longing. You’ve never seen anything like it before. The corners of his nose twitch before he composes himself. “Yeah, I suppose they are.” His pink tongue toys with his lip ring, swiftly changing the subject. “You seem surprised.”

“I guess I just wasn’t expecting all this.”

“Expecting what?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh clumsily, “books.” You mentally curse yourself as soon as the answer comes out. Really, __? Books?

“What?” He starts, raising a brow at you. “You thought I couldn’t read?”

Thankfully, Jungkook takes your comment playfully.

“Maybe,” you respond in the same lighthearted manner, feeling a bit more comfortable in his presence, “I also didn’t expect your room to look like a little boy’s room.”

All of the cheerfulness in the air evaporates as Jungkook glares at you with a clenched jaw and flared nostrils. Cleary irate. You’ve triggered a landmine.

“Jungkook, I’m-”

“Stop talking.” He raises a hand, cutting you off before you finish the sentence. Turning his back to you, he wheels over to his desk. “You can leave. You’re done for the day.”

Looking back, you know why he was so upset that day. You had put the puzzle pieces together a while ago. You’re unsure of the details, and asking for them feels wrong. Silence feels wrong, too, though. Until now, you’ve never dared to speak up.

You have no idea how to navigate something of this magnitude, but you just want him to know that you’re here. That you’re trying.

Cautiously, with your hand still on the tattoo, you whisper: “He must’ve been so beautiful, Jungkook…”

The thumb that had been drawing soft shapes into your side comes to an eerie pause as he freezes under you. When you look at him, your heart shatters. His chin is caved in with little dents, eyes glazed over with so much emotion. You’ve never seen a human being look so broken.

“Get off me.”

You frown at the shift in his demeanor. “Why?”

Remaining tight-lipped, Jungkook physically removes you from his lap, dumping you onto the seat next to him.

“Why can’t we ever talk about anything serious?”

He remains quiet as he slides his underwear up, not sparing you a single glance. When he speaks, his tone is painfully detached. “Like what?”

“Like what you said,” you answer curtly.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

Shaking his head with a cynical chuckle, he begins buttoning his pants, pretending you don’t exist. Like you’re not right beside him, falling to pieces.

Your eyes dart to the ceiling, lashes fluttering rapidly as you mull over what to say next. You guess now would be an appropriate time to ask him what you’ve wanted for weeks. Blinking does nothing to combat your unshed tears when you realize that his answer has the potential to destroy everything you’ve been dreaming about. Everything you’ve hoped for. “When are you going to leave her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous, Jungkook!” Shaking your head furiously, you feel the first hints of anger in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment. “I’m not! I see the way you look at me!”

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen? Huh?” Finally, he’s paying attention to you, just not in the way you hoped. His face is beet red as he leans closer. “Don’t tell me you actually thought we were going to end up together, __. Seriously? You’re my babysitter! You’re seven years younger than me! This isn’t some fucking fairytale; it’s life! There’s no such thing as happily-ever-afters—grow up and stop acting like a damn child!”

“No, Jungkook,” you croak, fully sobbing as you push an angry finger into his chest. “You’re the one who’s acting childish! I may not be the most mature person, but at least I know how to accept love!”

“So let’s say I divorce my wife, then what? Huh?” He seethes. “I get partial custody? I only see Yul on weekends? Every other week? She grows up in a broken home? I refuse to ruin my daughter’s life like that.”

You take a shaky breath, eyes shifting to the car floor, the air fresher on his mirror, the window. Anywhere but him. The way Jungkook explains your make-believe future together is nothing how you envisioned it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he’s just a fucking asshole. Neither thought process eases the pain.

“But you’re okay with ruining mine?”

For a moment, his features soften, and you see a glimmer of guilt wash over him. It fizzles out just as fast as it came. “You’re being dramatic.” Jungkook steps outside, tucking his shirt into his pants. “Get dressed.”

With jittery hands and blurry eyes, you grab your discarded lace bra, the one you had bought just for tonight, and slide it on your shoulders. When you pick your shirt up, you see that it’s ripped and tattered. Completely destroyed.

“Here,” Jungkook mumbles, tossing you his blazer as he watches you in the rearview.

Once you’re dressed, you awkwardly slide into the passenger seat. The scent of his cologne makes your head pound and your stomach flip.

“I want to go home.”

His lips part, preparing to persuade you otherwise. The hotel room he booked is ready and waiting, just as it is every Friday. He decides against it, simply murmuring an ‘okay’ before putting the keys in the ignition and starting the engine.

“Do you want to get something to eat before I drop you off?”

You just want your dad.

“I just want to go home.”

Other than the whoosh of splashing puddles and your soft sniffles, the ride to your house is painfully silent. Leaning your head against the window, you watch the moon. For miles and miles, it never changes. It’s stagnant, frozen in time, surrounded by nothing but endless blackness.

“Stop crying! I can’t stand it anymore!” Jungkook shouts, hitting the steering wheel with his open palm, finally growing uncomfortable from your non-stop tears. The sudden outburst makes you flinch. Sighing heavily, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. Just… stop crying, please.”

You sink further into your seat, curling your lips into your mouth to suppress a sob.

“I’m not worth your tears, __.”

You feel nothing but relief when he finally turns onto your street, stopping all the way at the end, concealed by the night and the shadows of overhanging trees.

“Am I picking you up next Friday?” He asks just before you leave.

With raw cheeks and a scowl, you slam the door in his face.

Your feet are so heavy that the sidewalk sinks under you like quicksand. No matter how many steps you take, the comfort of your house seems out of reach. Too far gone. Confusion weighs on your shoulders. You should feel proud, empowered even, but that voice in the back of your mind smothers any sense of relief.

Deep down, you know this isn’t going to be the last weekend you spend with Jungkook.

#bts #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook angst #btshoneyhive

2K notes · View notes

muns-quinn · 3 months

Text

Life After Dark

Part one - part two here

Eddie Munson x stevessister!reader

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, smut, p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f receiving), weed, alcohol, language

A/N: I’m completely out of my element since I haven’t written in agesssss so I apologize in advance lmao it isn’t my best work. It’s more of a slow burn at first but it’ll get there eventually. I probably won’t publish my work as fast as I did previously because of my schedule and I also just want to enjoy writing because I want to do it. I apologize in advance for any mistakes, typos, anything that doesn’t make sense, etc. Also, this will be a series so this is part one!

Playlist that I listened to/made up while writing this.

Being a Harrington wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. Everyone knew your family, it started from your parents and then your older brother Steve added onto that during his high school years. The family name was truly something that nobody could forget and you had to live up to it to the best of your abilities.

Though you had your differences and fought with each other like any other sibling group, you were close. You shared some of the same friends, been through things together that others normally wouldn’t, but most importantly you protected each other in any way you could.

The sound of the cold spring rain hit against your ceiling and the scent of your freshly washed hair flows through your nostrils as you hear your parents bickering back and forth, getting louder with each sentence. You run your brush through your hair and place it onto your nightstand before turning your doorknob and walking downstairs. There was half a pot of coffee left over in the kitchen and there was a pile of dirty dishes left in the sink, what a fantastic way to start your day.

“I think you’ve got more than enough packed for the week.” You hear your dad grumble from the top of the stairs, dragging down their suitcases.

“I don’t think you’ve packed near enough.” Your mom replied as she follows him down the steps.

Another thing about you and Steve was the fact that you practically had to raise yourselves. Your parents were extremely respected in town, however they were barely home because of their out of town business meetings. They’re usually gone from days to weeks on end because of the company, yet they always give the two of you specific rules to follow.

“Make sure the both of you are in the house by 11.” Your mom orders you, both of her hands full with bags filled with her things.

“Mhm.” You agreed absentmindedly, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

“Nobody’s staying over either. He goes to work, you do your volunteer work, and you both get home. Got it?” Your dad adds.

“Got it.” You mutter, taking a sip.

They quickly rush out of the door, your dad closing it with a slam and the house goes to complete silence again. The peaceful sound you’ve grown to love and appreciate over the years, the sound of positivity and pure bliss from your chaotic life.

Steve walks down the stairs still half asleep, his hair an absolute mess and his eyes barely open. He makes his way to the coffee pot, pouring what’s left of it in his individual mug. You finish yours off before placing it with the rest of the dirty dishes in the sink, dreading the clean up once you get home.

“What time’s your shift?” You question him.

“10-7.” He grumbles tiredly. “Ah shit, you’ve got that volunteer work this week don’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m sure I can walk home, just need you to take me there since it’s raining if that’s alright.” You explain.

“Yeah that’s fine, when do you have to leave?”

“In abouttttt… 8 minutes.” You mention as you glance over to the clock.

9:28 am

Shit. Steve was going to be late for work if he didn’t hurry. He leaves his mug on the counter and zooms past you and up the stairs, immediately running into his room to get ready for his shift. You place his mug in the same sink and walk over to your front door and grab your shoes before sliding them on and tying the shoe laces. You hear Steve complaining and expressing profanities, occasionally hearing the sound of something falling over and hitting the ground as he runs around.

“In the car!” He urges as he runs down the stairs.

You follow his directions and rush outside and to the car, hopping in the front seat and buckling in. He locked the front door and ran to the drivers side, jumping in and scurrying onto the road.

“Library, right?” He verified.

“You would be correct.” You nod.

In order to graduate Hawkins High, you had to have 20 hours of volunteer work before the end of the spring semester. As always, you waited until the last second to choose where you wanted to volunteer so the only open available slots were at the library. You didn’t mind, you’ve been there plenty of times and enjoyed the silence it offered, so it could have gotten worse. With that being said, you also waited until the last second to begin with your volunteer work so you had to volunteer for the entirety of your spring break.

Steve sped through town in order to get to work on time since he was on his last strike and didn’t want to lose his job. He shows up at the library, barely stopping the car to allow you out before he drives back off down the road. The rain was beating down onto your hair as you run inside, the cool air fanning your face as you walk inside of the library. You stroll over to the front desk, finding the sign in sheet for the volunteer work and you sign your name.

“Good to see you again, sweetie.” The older woman smiles at you as she turns around, you smile back in reply.

“What can I help you with today?” You ask, she looks around at the empty library, jotting down a to do list on a small sheet of paper.

• Reorganize the non-fiction section by author name

• Retape magazines that are falling apart

• Wipe down any surface with dust

• Reorganize the fiction section by author name

The list was nearly endless, but you took it with a smile anyway.

“If you need any help, you know where to find me.” She winks, her glasses showing your reflection back to you.

“Thank you, Alorie.” You nod, turning on your heels and walking over to the non-fiction section.

You kneel in front of the first bookcase that catches your eye, looking at the unorganized mess of books. If you come into a library, at least have the decency to put the books back in the correct order you think to yourself. You begin to move the books around but figured that it would be easier to take each book off the shelf and put them in correctly one at a time. You knew it was going to be an incredibly long 5 hours.

Shortly after you begin working on your to do list, people of all ages started to flood into the library. The younger children were squealing as they tossed around books that you knew you were going to have to fix, teachers from school came to drop off books they read in their free time, and others arrived just so they could get out of the rain.

Once the first task was done, you moved on to the second, retaping the ripped magazines. Alorie hands you the tape to use, you take it and walk over to the magazine stand. You sigh to yourself as you look at all of the torn pages but it had to get done. You sit in front of the stand and grab one of the magazines, finding the pages that needed to be fixed. Once you had finished that, you flipped back through it to ensure that you hadn’t missed anything. This pattern continued for quite some time with others. You grab the last magazine that laid on the floor, taping the cover. There wasn’t much of wear and tear on the magazine that you could see, but you triple checked each page to be sure.

A few hours had passed, you’ve finished nearly half of the tasks on your to do list and you see a group of little kids running into the library with their parents. You glance up at the clock that hung on the wall and it read 11:42, meaning that it was nearly time for afternoon reading. Every day the library held story hour at noon and at 3:00, you always read for the afternoon group when you were there and Alorie took over the 3:00 group.

You fold the list and slide it in your pocket, greeting the kids and their parents. You grab the book on the display shelf before walking over to the reading corner. While the children and the parents find their spots on the floor, you sit in the chair in front of the group.

“Alright guys, today’s book is If You Gave a Mouse a Cookie. Who’s read this book? Raise your hand as hiiiigh as you can for me!” You announce, over half of the group raise their tiny hands and you smile.

You begin to read the book, other people join the group a little late but they hadn’t missed much since you were only a few pages in. You enjoyed storytelling, especially to smaller kids because it reminded you of when your childhood was good.

After you read the book, Alorie calls the kids over to the group of tables in the middle of the library to color the pages she made copies of that went along with the book. You tidy up the area that you read at, putting back the chair and the book and picking up any trash that was left over.

“I didn’t know that Harrington’s read.” You hear someone say, startling you as your back was turned towards them.

You turn around and see the person who snuck up on you, it was non other than Eddie Munson. He was your brother’s best friend, only a year and a half older than you. He had been at your house numerous times while your parents were out of town, been through insane situations with Steve, he was someone that you shared friends with although you two weren’t incredibly close yourselves.

“Don’t sneak up on people like that.” You breathe out.

“You Harrington’s are so easy to startle.” Eddie snickers.

“Why are you here? I thought you hated the library.” You question as you continue picking up.

“Well you aren’t wrong but I have to get in my volunteer hours if I plan getting out of that hellhole anytime soon.” He sighs, putting his hands in his pockets.

“I told him that you had the list!” Alorie mentions across the library.

You nod as you understood, he would basically be shadowing you for the day. You knew he wasn’t much for working, especially when it comes to volunteering for something he had absolutely zero interest in. You take the list from your pocket, looking at the things you had left.

“So you waited until the last second to start your volunteering?” You ask.

“Seems like you did too.” He shrugs, looking around the library.

“Not my fault.” You mumble as you continue looking at your list. “You can go ahead and start with dusting.”

You point him to the cleaning tools, he gives you a look before marching his way behind the Alorie’s desk and grabbing the duster. He takes his sweet time to begin the task you assigned him with but you moved on to organizing and rearranging the fiction section of the library.

As you begin to take the books off of the shelf, Alorie leaves the group of kids and walks over to you.

“So I have a few options for you.” She whispers, confusion written across your face. “About your volunteer time.”

“Oh! Okay?”

“So, you can do 10 hours today, I’ll give you the key to lockup early and all you have to do is come in tomorrow for story hour and I’ll say you did your entire 20 hours.” She proposes. “Or you can just continue to come in each day for a few hours.”

It was a good deal. Normally you’d opt in to come each day for your hours and then some but your parents weren’t home so you could easily do the first option. However, you parents knew to check in with Alorie to see if you were actually where you were supposed to be.

“Alorie-”

“It’s spring break and it’s your senior year. You need a break. I won’t tell if you don’t.” She winks, you grin.

“Clean around and lock up like normal?”

“Exactly. Tell him that goes for him too, I’m feeling generous.” She suggests, nodding her head over to Eddie who finally decided to clean.

You thank her and agree on the first option. It wasn’t abnormal for you to lockup after hours once she had went home, you had a trusted bond with one another. You were basically an employee without pay, which you didn’t mind at all, you enjoyed helping her around the library when you could.

You went back to organizing the bookcases, piling each book on the floor so it would be easier to put them in by authors name and the order in which they go in for one’s that were parts of a series. Eddie continued to clean areas with visible dust around the library for quite some time, eventually leading over to the bookcase that you were currently working on.

“Alorie suggested that we stay for 10 hours today and come in for story hour tomorrow and she’ll sign off that we did our 20 hours.” You mention up at him. “Or you can come in each day and actually do your hours.”

“I’ve got a show tonight.” He declines, glancing down at you while he continues to clean. “Besides, I don’t wanna be in here longer than I have to.”

“Suit yourself.” You shrug. “I’m staying until 8.”

That was the end of the conversation, short and simple. It was unusual for him to not talk as much as normal, he constantly talked at your house or during school. Maybe it was because he was in a library and had some manners? You were unsure.

The second reading group came piling through the doors, most being second and third graders who were obnoxiously noisy and never cleaned up after themselves.

“Quiet, we’re in a library!” Alorie whispers to them, placing her index finger on her lips, the kids copying her body movement.

You place the books in their respective places before getting off of your knees. You walk over to the printer and grab the coloring pages for Alorie, putting them in the middle of the tables with crayons for the kids to color after the book had been read like previous.

“So, do kids just come here to listen to a book?” Eddie asks as you walk back over to the bookcase.

“Most days, yes. Then the older kids have a discussion about the book and color. Some days the library does different educational things, especially when it comes to science.” You explain with your back turned away from him. “For the smaller ones, they just come in for a quick story time and color. The older ones are a lot messier though.”

“I can see that. I’d hate to be you tonight.” He snickers. “What’s the next thing on your list?”

“Let me see.” You hum, pulling out the to do list. “I’ve done most of these already.”

Eddie peers over your shoulder, trying to find the one that has the least amount of work.

“She just got a new shipment of paperback books if you want to put those out.” You suggest and he hums. “I’ll show you where they’re at.”

You motion him to follow you, you go in the back room where there were tons of boxes lined up against the wall and stacked on one another. You open the first box and carry it into the main room, Eddie continues to follow you over to the fiction section. You tell him what order they need to be placed in and where to toss the boxes when he’s done.

Some time had passed, the kids from story hour had finished having their discussion on the book Alorie had read to them and colored.

“I need to know what he’s doing.” Alorie mentions as she pulls the library key out of her purse. “Is he staying longer or coming in each day?”

“He’s leaving.” You explain to her, taking the key in your hand.

“Alright, just be sure that he logs his time correctly and be sure that everything’s locked.” She orders. “Bye sweetie.”

“See you tomorrow.” You smile at her while she walks out of the library.

The two of you continue working on putting the books in the correct spot in silence, the only sounds were the books hitting the shelves and the clinking of his chains.

“It’s 4:00, you know.” You mention after silence, glancing up at the clock. “You can leave.”

“Oh, thanks.” Was all he said before immediately heading out of the doors.

Not even a bye, see you later, do you need any help, nothing. You weren’t surprised, it was Eddie you were talking about here, the guy who only thought of himself. That’s why you often butted heads, he only thought of himself and you thought of everyone else other than yourself. You sigh quietly, unsure if you made the right choice since there was a lot more to do.

Better for it to take a while and have it all be done correctly than incorrect you think to yourself.

You walk over to the radio that was beside the computer and turn it on, flipping through the channels until you’re content with a channel to listen to in order to pass the time.

You take a look at your surroundings, trash was still all over the floor and the tables from the kids. It was going to be a long 4 hours with nobody’s help. You begin to pick up all of the trash and throwing it in the trash can, as well as your to do list since you no longer needed it.

You continue picking up and putting books on shelves, the time ticking excruciatingly slow as you began to grow bored with your tasks. You needed some sort of break so you pick out a VHS tape from the movie cart, popping it into the VHS player. You dimmed the lights, not bothering to draw the curtains since the rain made the sky cloudy and dark as you sit comfortably in a beanbag and begin to watch The Breakfast Club to pass some of the time.

“Seems like you really got a lot done.” You hear a voice boom through the library, jolting you awake.

You weren’t aware of what time it was, what day it was, who was in the library, you hadn’t even known that you fell asleep. You quickly jump up and turn around, your eyes meeting Eddie’s, giving you some sort of relief but also terror since you had fallen asleep without locking the door. If Alorie found out, you’d probably be dead.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie!” You shout as you march over to the light switch, turning the lights on. “Stop scaring me!”

“Relax, I just forgot to sign out.” He snickers, walking to the desk and putting the time he had originally left.

8:47 read the analog clock. You were asleep for at least 2 hours and still hadn’t got much done at all.

“Ah shit.” You mumble to yourself, quickly popping the VHS tape in the box and putting it back on the cart. “I can’t believe I fell asleep and forgot to lock the door. I still have a ton left to do.”

“Well you should probably get home before anything, it’s supposed to get worse out.” He sighs.

“Yeah, I’ll get to it.” You ramble as you quickly clean up.

“Alright, well I’ve got a gig to get to. Tell your brother I’m coming over later.” He announces, walking backwards out of the door.

Again, it wasn’t uncommon for him to come over for a few hours after Steve was home from work, but you still had to clean when you got home. You hear the sound of his van peel out of the parking lot, you decided to call it a night. Once everything was put away and clean, you head out of the library and lock the door behind you and began your journey home.

You had originally thought that the rain would stop or die down at least but you were horribly wrong. If anything, the rain and wind picked up harder. You didn’t have a hoodie or an umbrella and Steve couldn’t pick you up. It was miserable.

Many cars passed you, some drenching you in the puddles on the street and nobody stopped. You still had 4 more miles to walk in the rain with no end in sight. What started as a walk end up being a full sprint to get home faster. Your legs were beginning to give up on you, you were soaked through your clothes, your shoes were beginning to give you a blister, you were miserable.

You finally see a building with lights on and a few cars surrounding it, the perfect spot for a break for now. You cautiously get to the front door, pulling it open and allowing yourself to walk inside. It was warm and dry but the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flooded in your nose. You take a look around, not many people were inside but it was loud and chaotic and you don’t recognize a single person.

“Y/N?” You hear from across the room and once again there stood Eddie.

Well, you recognized one person.

“You just couldn’t get enough of me, could you?” He snickers, trotting over towards you.

“Just walking home, needed a break.” You explain. “But by the looks of it, I’m not necessarily the type to be welcomed here so I’m gonna head out-”

“Do you need a ride?” He offers, you reluctantly agree and he nods to you. “I’ll be back, you guys just warm up.”

He holds the door open for you, allowing you to step outside and he follows behind. He unlocks the van and gets in the drivers seat, he opens the passenger door from inside and pushes it for you to grab onto. You climb in the seat, the water from your clothes soaking into the velvet texture of the seats.

“Thank you.” You sigh, closing the door behind you.

“Yeah yeah, don’t think this is going to continue happening.” He brushes off as he turns on the ignition and putting the van into gear. “Thought you had a ride?”

You shrug and recline in the passenger seat. It was one thing for the two of you to be alone in the library, but in the car? Incredibly different.

He drives silently, the rain making it near impossible for him to see out of the windshield. You watch outside of the window as he drives down the road, nearing your home. You finally spot your porch light and he pulls into the driveway, you thank him before running out into the rain. You pull out your house keys and stick it in the lock, turning it and opening your front door.

Once you walk inside, you lock the door behind you and kick off your shoes. You run upstairs and peel off your dripping clothes and dry off with a towel before putting on clean pajamas. You’ve never been happier to be so dry in your life.

When you walk down the stairs and into the kitchen, you clean up the stuff your parents had left behind before leaving for the week and all of the dishes. You were growing irritated with how much trash is yours and how much trash is everyone else’s, they never picked up after themselves.

An hour and a half had passed, it was nearly 12 and there was no sign of Steve coming home anytime soon. You knew how crazy the video store would get on spring break but he had been gone all day, your mind was telling you something was wrong but you didn’t want to think about that. You couldn’t stress yourself out over something that hadn’t even happened yet.

A knock on the door catches you off guard and wipes you away from your deep thought. You walk over to the front door and peek outside from the glass and you see Eddie again for what felt like the hundredth time today.

“He’s not home yet.” You mention, holding back the worry that threatened to come out of your throat.

“No worries.” He shrugs, pushing past you and allowing himself in.

If there was one thing that Steve was strict about, it was about you hanging out with his guy friends one on one. The reason behind that was because of the situation that blossomed between you and Tommy before he and Carol were a thing. You and him were introduced by Steve when he would come over to your house nearly every day, you started off as friends yourselves and then you hooked up. After that, it turned to a shit show. You began dating but he cheated on you every single second he could, he told the entire school that you were a slut, he and Steve got into a huge fight. It was a disaster. So now, you couldn’t really hang out with his friends one on one.

Eddie kicks off his shoes and shimmies his jacket off, hanging it on the coatrack before making himself comfortable in your own home. Just like clockwork, the phone rang.

“Hello?” You answer.

“It’s me, a tree blocked off the road so I won’t be home for a while.” Steve says into the receiver.

“Where are you now?”

“Came back to Family Video. The power got backed up by a generator so I’ll be fine. Make sure you get some candles or a flashlight or something in case the power goes out there.”

“Okay. Do you know when you’ll be home?”

“Not a single clue.” Steve hums into the phone. “Alright, I’ll be home later.”

You put the phone up and Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“It was Steve. A tree fell and blocked off the road because of the storm so he won’t be home until later.” You relay and he gives a quiet ah.

You go upstairs and into your parents’ bedroom closet, raiding it for flashlights and candles. You found a single candle in there so you looked in the top of your own closet and found another, two was better than one in case anything were to happen.

You and Eddie sit on opposite sides of the couch, watching the television in silence. It was incredibly awkward as you both sit and wait for Steve, so you excuse yourself to your bedroom.

1:09 am

You lay on your bed watching your own tv for an hour, the booms of the thunder being impossible to ignore as you try to sleep with the background noise. The tv flickers and it turns off, followed by everything else in the house. You groan to yourself with your eyes closed.

You hear footsteps coming closer to your door and you hear Eddie knock quietly. You toss off your blanket and walk over to the door.

“You brought both of the candles up here.” He chuckles when you open the door.

“Shit, sorry.” You apologize, turning around to grab one of the candles.

“You’re fine. Trying to sleep?”

“Yeah but it’s impossible.” You sigh, handing him a candle. “No sign of Steve?”

“None.”

You move past him and walk down the stairs, he follows behind you the best he could in the dark. The only sense of light either of you truly had was the lightening that flashed through the glass windows.

“Well it seems like we’ll be up for the rest of the night.” You mention.

“We get to hangout outside of the library, how cool.” Eddie mockingly gasps, pulling a quick snicker from you. “And I made you laugh? Geez Harrington, I really think you’re beginning to like me.”

“Oh calm down Munson, you made a joke.” You replied, he was taken aback from the use of his last name. He was used to Steve using it but you? That’s different.

“What should we do to pass time?” He queried.

“I don’t know about you, but I plan on reading.” You advise, lighting the candles.

“Reading? Really? You just spent the entire day at the library.”

“Nothing else to really do.” You shrug.

He pauses for a moment before speaking again.

“You live in your parents’ home, Steve throws tons of parties. You have alcohol, a pool, everything!”

“Not sure if the pool is good for right now considering the circumstances outside.” You chuckle.

“Well you know what I mean.” He laughed. “C’mon, live a little.”

You look at him with a brow raised, his eyes begging for some sort of amusement. You knew you weren’t going to win the non-vocal competition so you gave in regardless. You roll your eyes and went to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of vodka that was stashed away.

You’ve drank together before. Obviously with a larger group, not by yourselves, but you were comfortable enough. Besides, you were bored yourself.

“Here goes nothing.” You smile as you pour yourselves a shot a piece, clinking the glasses together and throwing the alcohol down your throats. “Jesus it never gets easier.”

You were a few shots in a piece, the awkwardness between the two of you quickly diminished. While trying to figure out what to do to help keep you entertained while drinking, you both agreed on a game to know each other a bit better. You ripped up a piece of paper into tiny bits and each of you wrote down different questions for each other to answer.

You both made up the rules, it was almost like truth or dare. One draws a question and if they refuse to answer, they drink. However, if someone draws a question and answers, the other person has to drink. You weren’t great at making up games on the spot, neither was he, but it was something that you would work on.

“Okay, who draws first?” You ask and he thinks.

“Rock paper scissors?” He suggests and you agree immediately.

He lost and had to draw first, excitement was building up in you at the unknown. He closes his eyes and runs his fingers through the tiny folded pieces of paper in the bowl until he lands on one. He pulls it out and opens his eyes, struggling to make out the words on the page.

“What’s is… your favorite song.” He reads aloud. “Run to the Hills, easily.”

He moves the bowl in front of you after you take a drink. You copy him, closing your eyes and roaming your fingers around the pages until you pull one out.

“What’s your biggest regret? That’s a good one.” You think for a moment. “Don’t really have any. Everything happens for a reason.”

“No, that doesn’t count!” He cackles, calling you out. “You have to answer.”

“That is an answer!” You protest with a grin, he shakes his head. “Ughhhh.”

You take another drink of the alcohol in your cup. It was an answer, just not one that he wanted.

“Who was your first kiss? Really? You have lame questions. But if I have to answer, it was Elaine Dotinson.” He snickers, you roll your eyes and take yet another drink of the beverage.

“What was your longest relationship?” You read, your eyes fixating on his face. “What kind of question?”

“Just two people getting to know each other a little better.” He cheeses. “Unless you want to drink again.”

You roll your eyes.

“4 months.” You mumble, you see him open his mouth to say something. “That is an answer, you didn’t ask who it was. Drink up.”

“Why are you so quiet all the time?” He questions after taking a drink.

“That’s not a question from the pile.”

“Forget the pile for a moment, it’s a genuine question.” He presses. “Do you not like being around me or something?”

You pause for a moment and think. The alcohol was beginning to hit you at the moment and so were the questions.

“It’s not that. We just have different interests and we can’t really spend time together to get to know each other. Like, really get to know each other.” You explained.

“Why can’t we?”

“Because you’re Steve’s best friend. I’m the little sister, we’re off limits to each other.”

“Off limits? Aren’t you an adult?”

“Well yeah b-”

“Who makes those limits? You, him, mommy, daddy?” He interrupts, his voice getting quieter with each word.

You can’t reply. You just sit there observing his face with the flickering candle light, his eyes grown soft yet stern.

“If you actually get to know me, you’ll learn that we have more of the same interests than you might think.”

Before you could attempt to respond, the power comes back on and the phone immediately rings. You both look at each other until you answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“It’s me again. Listen, I’m just going to stay over at Nancy’s for the night since I cant get home. I’ll be home tomorrow, just be sure to lock the doors before you go to sleep.”

“Okay, be safe. I’ll see you.” You say, telling him goodbye and answering the phone.

You turn back around and face Eddie.

“Well, seems like you get Steve’s room tonight. He can’t get home so he’s staying with Nancy for the night.” You voice, sitting back in your spot on the floor. “Shall we continue?”

“We shall.”

3:18 am. The two of you continued your little game, asking questions that weren’t even on the pieces of paper, nearly emptying the vodka bottle and everything was beginning to spin.

You had gotten to know each other pretty well within the past few hours to say the least. He told you about his goals of being a rockstar after graduation, about his parents, his interests. He learned about your relationship between you and your parents, what you enjoyed to do in your free time, why you and Alorie had a close relationship. You developed a friendship.

“Jesus, don’t fall backwards.” You hear Eddie laugh as he follows you up the stairs.

“‘m tryin’!” You whine playfully, slowing crawling up the stairs as the room spins around you.

You were exhausted and the alcohol didn’t help either so you opted in to going to bed. Eddie helped you up the stairs to ensure that you wouldn’t fall and hurt yourself, he held you up as you tripped over your own feet and walked you into your room.

With your bedside lamp being the only light in the room, you managed to stumble your way to your bed and practically face plant into it. You laugh as you continue to be dizzy from the room spinning, Eddie lifts your legs and pushes you even further onto the bed to prevent you from falling out.

“Thank you.” You mumble with a smile on your face as you roll onto your back, looking up at Eddie.

You see his smile, his curly hair partly covering his face as he looks down at you.

Fuck, he’s cute. Even though you were drunk, you could still appreciate beauty when you saw it.

“Anytime.” He smiles, planting a playful kiss to your forehead. “Now I’m going into Steve’s room, night!”

“Night.” You whisper back, watching as he exits out of your bedroom and closes your door.

You couldn’t think he was cute in that sort of way, it was frowned upon. That was your brothers best friend and you two had not really gotten to know each other within the past few hours.

Don’t develop a crush or feelings for him. Don’t develop a crush or feelings for him. Don’t develop a crush or feelings for him you thought to yourself. It was only the alcohol, that’s all it was.

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside of your window, the sun beats through your window blinds and into your eyes. You barely open your eyelids, your head pounding from the activities from the night before. Was Eddie still asleep? Was he even there at all?

You glance over at the clock on your nightstand, 10:45 am. You pry yourself out of bed and use the bathroom before quietly sneaking down the hall and into Steve’s room. You peak through the crack in the door and see Eddie asleep on his back, his arm covered his eyes to prevent the sunlight coming in. He was shirtless and your eyes wandered a little too long for comfort so you rip your own attention away.

You walk the opposite way down the hall and down the stairs, each creak from your footsteps sounding like the loudest sound on earth. You stroll into the kitchen Rand grab the ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet, popping a few in your mouth before washing it down with a glass of water. You clean up the mess that you and Eddie had made last night and you toss out the bottle of vodka that you two had finished.

“I can help you out.” You hear Eddie’s raspy voice boom from the top of the staircase.

“Oh it’s fine, I’ve got most of it thrown away.” You mumble quietly, trying not to make your headache any worse.

You steal a look at Eddie and the butterflies in your stomach from the night before were still there. You cursed yourself mentally, telling yourself that it was wrong, but you still found him attractive.

“You okay?” He questions once he finally stood in front of you. Fuck, you forgot to look away from him.

“Y-Yeah! Just this hangover.” You shake off, turning your attention back onto the trash in the living room.

“So I was thinking,” He announces, stretching with a slight yawn. “We can go back for your story hour today and then I can show you Skull Rock like we talked about yesterday.”

You were incredibly confused, not remembering the conversation that transpired between the two of you that he was talking about. You give him a confused look and he snickers.

“Last night you were telling me that you wanted to venture out more, get out of the shell that your parents shoved you in. You didn’t think Skull Rock was a real place and told me you wanted me to take you today.” He reminded you, some of the conversation trickling back into your consciousness.

“Oh, yeah! I totally forgot about that.” You laugh, shaking your head at yourself. “I mean, are you sure?”

“Stop asking me that!” He playfully shouts. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have asked you.”

You look up at the clock, it was 11:15. You had 45 minutes to get ready and be at the library. Eddie cleans up around the house while you run into your room. You roam around in your closet for an outfit, deciding on a plain white blouse and torn black jeans. You didn’t bother styling your hair so you tossed it up in a ponytail and quickly ran back downstairs.

“Where’s your shirt?” You ask Eddie as he ties his shoes.

“I’ve got more in the van.” He shrugs, you didn’t say a word but nodded instead.

You make sure you lock the door behind you both and you get into the van. Eddie grabs a shirt from the back and throws it on before starting the van and pulling out into the street.

There were tree limbs scattered everywhere on the road, lawns were flooded from the storm, it was still cold out. You both pull into the library parking lot and he finds an open spot, you walk inside and dry your shoes on the rug before walking in even further. Alorie looks over at you both with a smile.

“Surprised you could make it here!” She beams. “You’re right on time too.”

“I woke up a tad late.” You snicker, pulling up a chair to the reading center.

“Eddie, right?” Alorie questions.

“Yes ma’am, that’s me.” He says, walking up to her.

“Well, Eddie. I know that Ms. Y/N here told you about the deal we made yesterday but you couldn’t stay the whole time, correct?”

“Yes ma’am.” He talks lowly, aware of the readers in the library.

You continue to get everything situated for reading hour, grabbing Chicka Chicka Boom Boom off of the shelf as they continue their conversation.

“Of course if that’s okay with her.” You hear Alorie mention, talking to you.

“Sorry I didn’t hear what you said.” You say.

“I told him that if he helps you with story hour, I’ll stick up for him too saying that he did his full 20 hours.” She suggests, Eddie gives you a small smile.

“I don’t mind!” You agree. “You wanna help with cutting out the letters?”

You hand him a pair of scissors and tracings of different letters of the alphabet that you created the day before, he takes them in his hands and gets busy while the kids come flooding in through the library doors. You and Eddie share a glance, you could tell that the kids were already beginning to get on his nerves.

“Ms. Y/N!” One of the toddlers call out as he runs your direction.

“Hi sweetheart, go find your spot on the floor with your mommy.” You wink to him after he gives you a hug.

Once everyone had settled in, you take your seat in front of the group and begin to read to them. You glance up to make sure Eddie was cutting out all of the letters once you were showing the kids the pictures, he has a slight grin on his face as he listens to you read off of the pages. The butterflies were coming back stronger and harder. You shake it off and begin reading once more when one of the kids asked you to flip the page. You finally finished the book and the kids wanted to go color, they had extremely short attention spans.

“Mr. Munson, you ready for them?” You ask across the library, he raises a brow first.

“Ready Ms. Harrington!” He answers, the kids immediately rush over to him.

Alorie takes over the coloring activity, thanking the both of you and releasing you to enjoy the rest of your spring break. You both walk outside, the smell of fresh rain making you feel refreshed before you jump back into the van.

“Skull rock?” Eddie asks, turning the ignition.

“Sounds like a plan.” You responded.

He drives onto the town road and has his radio blaring, the loud music mixed in with the headache you still had wasn’t your version of fun. He sings along to the lyrics as he continues to drive down winding roads in the middle of nowhere, eventually coming to a complete stop right at the edge of the woods.

“Yeah, this isn’t sketchy at all.” You breathe out, looking deep into the trees but you couldn’t see a thing.

“You wanted an adventure.” He shrugs, hopping out of the van. “Let’s go.”

After a moment of hesitation you follow him into the trees. The perfect ending of a horror movie you think to yourself. You duck underneath branches and move tree limbs out of your way.

“I think I may be regretting this decision, you know.” You announce as you follow behind him. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

He pauses for a moment and looks around at the trees.

“….Yes.” Eddie vocalizes, a slight unsure tone in his voice.

You immediately knew that he was going to get you both lost, however, it was all a journey. You spent for what felt like an hour walking around in circles.

“We’re lost.” You sigh to him and he shakes his head.

“It should be rightttt… here!” He shouts, bringing you to a rock. “See, maybe you should have more trust me in me.”

You look up at the rock, not entirely sure of what you were expecting but it was just a rock. Eddie jumps on top and looks down at you with his feet swinging in the air. He pats an empty spot beside him as an invitation.

You remember the words he told you last night: live a little. With that tiny push, you crawl your way up the rock and place yourself right beside him. You look out into the trees, the windchill sending a shiver down your spine.

The reason he came to the rock often was for the peace like you with the library, it was his escape away from all of the other chaos that Hawkins had to offer. As you both sit there in each other’s company while being completely silent, the rain began again.

“Ah shit.” Eddie hisses as he feels the rain beating down on him.

“Just great.” You huff, looking up at the trees.

Eddie climbs off of the rock and helps you down as well. His original plan was to walk all the way back to the van but the rain got harder, so the both of you sit comfortably with the rock as your source of shelter temporarily.

“Well, cross this off of your bucket list.” He laughs, his back pressed against one side of the rock as he faces you. “You wanna smoke?”

He pulls out a baggie from his jacket with rolled blunts and bits of weed, hanging it in front of you. He saw the sparkle in your eyes when he held the bag in front of you, almost full of curiosity and excitement with a hint of fear.

“I don’t bite and it won’t either.” He promises, his voice quieter.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?” You joke around to keep the situation lighthearted.

“Just trying to keep us entertained while it quite literally rains on our parade.” He cheeses. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You thought for a moment. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Well, probably a lot, but you wanted to slowly creep away from the goody two shoe student that your parents and peers sought you out to be. What better way to explore additional perks and interests than to explore it all?

“I’ve just never smoked before.” You speak up, he laughs at first until he realizes you’re being serious.

“Wait, seriously? Your brother buys shit from me all the time and you’ve never dabbled in it a smidge?” He interrogates, you laugh a light ‘no’.

Without hesitation, Eddie pulls out one of the blunts from the baggie and observes it, making sure it’s rolled tight and perfect for your first ever smoke session. He gives you a look to make sure that you wanted to and once he had your approval, he sticks it between his lips and lights the end. He drags in a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments before exhaling. The smell alone was horrid but you hoped that it would be worth it.

“So you’re going to hold it like this,” He teachers, wrapping your fingers around it snugly. “Bring it up to your lips and inhale. You’ve smoked a normal cigarette, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Inhale just like that, just be sure you hold it in for as long as you can stand it. Then you just exhale and enjoy it.” His voice was rich as he instructed you.

You did exactly what he told you. You pull the blunt to your lips, sucking in a deep breath as your lungs ache once the smoke hit them. You hold for a few seconds and exhale, coughing obnoxiously as the smoke is released.

“You alright?” Eddie checks once your coughing had died down, you give him a thumbs up while your eyes water. “Yeah first time’s rough but it gets easier.”

“How will I know I’m high?” You ask him, handing the blunt back.

“Oh you’ll know, trust me.” He winks, inhaling the smoke.

This pattern of back and forth goes on for a while, the rain not giving a hint of ending in sight. You felt good, everything felt light and relaxing, you’ve never felt this calm. He wasn’t wrong, you knew the moment it hit you that you were high.

Less than 24 hours ago you were doing volunteer work with him with hardly any words being shared between the both of you. Less than 12 hours ago you were getting to know each other better and becoming friends. Now you’re in the middle of the woods with him getting high for the first time.

“This is nice.” You sigh to yourself, relaxing against the ground as you bask in your high.

“Feeling it, aren’t ya?”

“Oh yeah.” You snicker. “To think that we barely knew a thing about each other yesterday and now we’re here.”

“I know, crazy how shit like that works.” Eddie chuckles. “You’re nothing like your brother.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

“Good I believe.” He mentions casually, playing with a rock in his hand. “It was easier getting to know you. Not much of a total asshole, humble for the most part, cute.”

He just leaves it at the last word, cute. You couldn’t tell if it was the high that made you blush or his words but you couldn’t shake the butterflies that had lingered all day. You laugh at his compliments in an endearing way, burying your face in your hands.

“So what are your plans for the rest of spring break?”

“Not too sure.” You sigh with a shrug. “Yourself?”

“Well I’m glad you ask!” He chirps, sitting up straight. “I’ll be doing different adventures with you.”

“Eddie-”

“Ah ah, live a little, remember?” He reminds you. “I won’t do anything that will hurt you. I promise.”

You’ve heard that same promise before from Tommy but that wasn’t exactly true. There were multiple reasons not to trust anyone, your parents being the first people to break your trust long ago and everyone else seemed followed along. When you begin to live, you learn to trust.

“Fine.” You agree after a few moments of silence between the two of you. “What do you have in mind?”

“We’ll figure it out once we figure it out.” He beams, gently slapping your knee. “But for now, what do you think about getting back to the van? I don’t think the rain plans on stopping and it’s only 3:26, we’ve got more to do.”

You both crawl out from under the rock and run through the trees, branches slapping against you, leaving wet marks on your shirt and jeans while the rain falls on your head. You laugh when Eddie trips over his own feet and lands on his stomach so he grabs your ankle in revenge, making you fall right beside him. You make an audible oof as your stomach hits hits the muddy ground, mud splashing all over your torso and your face.

“Who’s laughing now?” Eddie teased and pokes his tongue out.

“Oh shut up.” You laugh loudly, grabbing Eddie’s hand as he assists you to your feet.

You brush yourself off the best you can before you both continue your walk through the trees. You find the clearing and spot his van, making a run for it and hopping in the passenger’s seat.

Eddie begins to drive down the road, coming up with new things that you haven’t done. He pulls into a gravel road and the familiarity comes around, you were in the trailer park that Max lives in. You were silently praying that she wouldn’t be home so no red flags were potentially raised about you being with Eddie.

He pulls into a driveway and parks beside a black truck, he turns off the ignition and opens the driver door. You glance over at Max’s trailer and see no trace of her which gave you the go ahead of following him inside.

The both of you quietly walk through the door, you see an older man sleeping on the recliner that sat in front of the flickering television. Eddie holds his index finger in front of his mouth as a sign to not speak, you oblige and follow him down the hall into the bedroom.

“This is mi casa.” He announces quietly once the door was shut. “That was also my Uncle Wayne asleep in there.”

You connected some of the dots about what he told you about himself last night. Wayne had been granted custody of Eddie before he was 5, his mom had passed away and his dad was constantly running from the cops or was in jail. Since it wasn’t expected that Wayne get custody, he had to give up the only room in the trailer and gave it to Eddie and he would resort to the recliner.

“You have a lot of stuff.” You point out as you take a look around his room.

“Yeah, I tried cleaning up but it got cluttered because of my collections.” He smiles almost nervously.

His room was filled with things he was passionate about, majority of it being music and D&D things. He had posters covering nearly every part of the walls, clothes piled up on a desk and in the closets. It wasn’t organized but you enjoyed the chaos. He throws you a shirt and you catch it in your hands.

“Figured you wouldn’t want to be in muddy clothes all day, you can wear that for now.”

“You’re very considerate.” You smile at him.

He grins at your statement and rips his dirty shirt over his head, tossing it to the side and throws on a clean one. He walks into the bathroom to allow you to change in privacy. You pull your shirt over your head and immediately cover yourself back up with his shirt, it smelled like laundry detergent mixed with cigarettes and weed. You’ve grown used to the smell of him over the past day and it was almost comforting.

“You still have dirt on your face.” Eddie calls attention to your face, his finger brushes against your nose.

You try to wipe it off without looking, missing the spots of dried mud entirely. He tries to guide you but you continued to miss it, he held in his laugh at your failed attempts.

“Here, let me get it.” He mutters, taking matters into his own hands.

You look up at him and agree to his help, his rough fingertips scrape the side of your face. His eyes flicker from the dirt on your cheek and nose to your eyes, your breath catches in your throat once you lock eyes.

Suddenly he was even prettier than before. His big brown eyes glimmered in the sunlight that peaked through his window, his lips glistened from the chapstick he put on in the bathroom, it suddenly felt like you were floating. His finger remained on your face, not moving but just staying there as the two of you take in each other’s features. No words were being spoken, no movements, just the two of you taking in one another.

“Eddie, I’m heading out.” You hear from the living room, knocking you both back into reality.

“Oh, uh alright!” Eddie shouts back, glancing back at the door and removing his hand. “I may be out when you get home!”

“That’s alright, just be safe and don’t get arrested again.” Wayne bellows.

You hear his footsteps and the door slam shut behind him. The roar of the engine rattled the windows and you hear it get quieter and quieter the further he got down the gravel road. You were taking in Eddie’s space, it was different being the guest in his home but you couldn’t say that you didn’t enjoy being somewhere new.

“Don’t get attested again?” You draw attention to Wayne’s statement. “You seemed to have missed that chapter.”

“Oh it was nothing.” He waves off. “Just got caught doing some graffiti when I was 17, no charges were actually filed.”

He lays back on his bed and sighs.

“You can sit, I don’t bite unless you ask me to.” He winks to you, moving over so you had some room.

Oh god. Is he flirting? It definitely feels like he’s flirting with you. Maybe you were overthinking it and he was being friendly? It was hard to tell with him.

“Is your high wearing off?” He blurts out a few minutes after you got comfortable in your new spot.

“A little.” You replied, sitting criss cross.

With that answer, he pulls out a baggie of weed from his bedside table and a box of wraps. You weren’t ignorant to weed, you just hadn’t tried it until earlier but you knew what things were. You watch as he grabs the rolling tray and sits it on the bed beside him. He grabs bits of the drug in his fingers and places it in the paper. You watch as he rolled the fresh blunt, licking the paper gently to ensure that none would fall out.

He plants a kiss on it like it was the most delicate thing in existence before placing it between his lips. He lights the end of it and inhales deeply, lifting his head to the ceiling as his blows it out, his neck was on full display for you. His hand reaches out, extending the blunt to you. You didn’t hesitate for a moment, you immediately grab it and pull it up to your face, dragging in a deep breath.

It was true when he said that it’ll get easier the more you do it, it didn’t sting your lungs nearly enough like it did a few hours before. You feel his eyes on you whilst you breathe out and hand him the blunt back. You continue passing it back and forth to one another, that relaxed feeling creeping back to you. You eventually lie down on your stomach facing Eddie, making it even easier to pass it between you two.

“My mouth is so dry.” You complain with a laugh. “But this is nice. I like hanging out with you.”

“I enjoy hanging out with you too.” He chuckles, tilting his head to the side after the blunt was finished. “You look good in my shirt.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile at the now obvious flirting. While you try to hide your appreciation for the compliment, you look around his room and spot an eyeliner pencil.

“Can I do your eyeliner?” You question, suddenly changing the subject.

“Go for it.” He approved.

You get off of the bed and waltz over to his desk, you grab the eyeliner in your hands and walk back towards him. You wiggle your eyebrows in a joking manner while he continues to lay on his back.

“I didn’t really think about this.” You mutter, trying to figure out a good spot for you to sit as you do his makeup.

“Let me sit up a little.” Eddie announced, scooting himself to a halfway seated position.

You sit in front of him and bring his face towards you in your hands, it still wasn’t easy to do his eyeliner without poking him in the eye. He noticed your difficulty and grabbed your legs, scooting you into his lap a little bit.

“This okay?” He verifies.

“Much better.” You smile sweetly, grasping his face in your palm again to guide him to you.

You order him to look up and he does just that as you cautiously place the eyeliner on his waterline. His hands sit comfortably on your back to hold himself up and prevent you from moving suddenly. You focus on the makeup not getting in his eye and he seemed to be focused on something else.

“Your lips are chapped.”

His statement immediately makes you lick your lips to give them some sort of moisture but it was no use.

“Yeah well I have cottonmouth and it isn’t helping.” You mumble, continuing to focus on his face.

“You need chapstick?”

“You gonna stop talking so I can finish this?” You remark lightly, looking at his face and seeing amusement written all over it.

“No, I think you need chapstick.”

His eyes flicker up to yours and to your lips, he quickly closes the gap between the two of you. You feel a sense of shock at first when you feel his lips pressed against yours, unsure if it was actually happening or if you had gotten too high and you were making it up.

He pulled away, his pupil blown once you make eye contact with him again. The feelings that you had felt all day, all of the butterflies, anxiety, excitement had hit you all at once again.

“I-I’m sorry.” He breathes after a moment, studying the expression on your face. “I didn’t know-”

You interrupt him by stealing another kiss once the reality of him kissing you first had set in. The eyeliner rolled out of your touch as you place your hands firmly on his face with your lips pressed against his. It felt right, almost like you’ve done this hundreds if not thousands of times before.

Truthfully, you had the biggest crush on him when he began to come around a year ago, though you pushed it away the best you could. You never stayed around him long enough or talked to him because you didn’t want him to find out about your attraction, but now it made you wonder how long he felt the way whatever this was.

“Whoa.” Eddie exhaled once you pulled away slowly.

“Um, yeah. Whoa.” You mimic, sliding out of his lap.

Your faces were a bright shade of red and you couldn’t contain your grins. You were able to clearly see your eyeliner job on him and he looked even that much cuter.

“So uh,” He clears his throat. “What adventure you wanna go on now?”

“What time is it?” You ask, he looks down at the watch on his wrist.

“8:30” He answered.

“The next adventure would probably be getting home before anyone suspects anything if Steve’s home.”

You saw the slight disappointment in his face but he wouldn’t make you stay longer. You both got off of his bed and walk into the living room, putting on your shoes and lacing them so you could get out of the door.

You wait for him in the passenger’s seat of the van, not sure of what was taking him so long to get outside. You glance in the rearview mirror and see Max and Lucas talking by the picnic tables, you curse yourself under your breath and you finally spot Eddie coming. He climbs in the driver’s seat, you sink farther in the passenger’s seat as he drives in hopes that they wouldn’t catch you.

“Small change of plans in our adventure.” Eddie says. “Forgot my dice at the school, I have to get them before someone throws them away.”

“Nobody’s there.”

“Well, we’ll sneak in.” He suggests nonchalantly. “Unless you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared!” You argue with a fake offended tone which made him laugh. “You know where they’re at?”

“Yep and I know exactly how we’ll get in.”

You didn’t ask any questions nor did you expect any answers for the time being, you were in for whatever he had planned. He drives through town, telling you different stories about the rise and falls of Hellfire and how easy it was to manipulate the other characters just by dice. Eventually he pulls into the school’s parking lot and drives to the back, parking as close as he could possibly get to a window.

“You got it?” He whispers below you as you crawl inside of a window.

“I think my jeans are stuck!” You whisper shout from above him, unable to move any further than where you were.

Your belt loop got snagged on a hook and you didn’t want to rip your new jeans but you had to get in and out of there.

“Push me!” You order, your feet kicking a tad in the air.

You feel his hands on your legs as he pushes you inside, you topple on the floor, letting out a silent ‘ow’ when you hit your head on the hard tile. You brush yourself off and move out of the way as Eddie jumps up, clinging onto the windowsill and pulling himself inside. He wastes no time to find where he had left the dice.

“It’s so dark.” Your voice echos down the hall, hardly being able to see Eddie’s own shadow.

“Just follow me.” He orders.

You keep quiet and follow him to the best of your abilities, finally reaching a classroom door. He opens the door quietly and walks inside, inching the corner of the room to a closet. You hear him pick the lock of the closet and the creak of the door opening was practically deafening. He walks inside and flips on a light, revealing where he held Hellfire. He looks around everywhere for the dice and they were nowhere to be found. You weren’t aware that he held Hellfire in the drama class’s prop closet until that moment, but it would explain a lot.

“Aha!” You hear him shout in a celebratory tone.

“Who’s there?” You hear another voice shout from down the hall.

You and Eddie immediately look at each other with a moment of panic until he mouths run. You both break out into a sprint, he grabs your hand so you don’t fall behind. The footsteps of the other person could be heard following you. You find the way you came in and jump out of the window, your ankles burning as you land on the hard ground and Eddie follows shortly after.

“Go, go, go!” He shouts to you, making you run for the van.

Once you were in the van and the coast was clear after he’d driven off, you burst out into a fit of laughter. The adrenaline from escaping and your high runs through your veins and he smiles when he sees that you had a blast. You were finally to your last adventure of the night, home.

He drives into the quiet section of your neighborhood and finally pulls into your driveway. Surprisingly Steve hadn’t made it home yet, but he usually came home super late when your parents were out of town. You both sit in the driveway for a few minutes in silence.

“Thank you for everything today.” You smile. “Do you wanna come in for a bit?”

He didn’t answer verbally, instead he turned off the ignition and pulled the keys out. You took it as a yes so you jump out and he followed you inside. There was no sign of Steve even stopping by the house, everything was exactly how you and Eddie left it that morning.

You go upstairs with Eddie behind you and you allow him inside of your room, closing the door to give him access to your entire space. You turn on your lamp and turn off the ceiling light, giving your eyes a moment to relax from the soft light. You lay on your bed with your face towards the ceiling, he copies you and lays the exact same way.

“I’ve gotta say, you didn’t disappoint me today, Harrington.” He says quietly.

“You didn’t disappoint me either, Munson.” You acknowledged, turning your head to face him.

He smiles and inches his face closer to yours, almost testing the waters like he hadn’t kissed you an hour prior.

“Do I need more chapstick?” You tease, he smirked.

“I believe so.”

The gap was finally closed again. He tasted like a mixture of weed and cigarettes, it was quickly becoming your favorite taste. His lips were soft against yours, your eyes flutter closed as the kiss lingers. What started off as a few small pecks transitioned to something more.

His lips move swiftly against yours, almost cautious as if he was worried that you might back away. You put more pressure against his lips, which signaled him that you weren’t backing away. He experiments a little bit by sliding his tongue against your bottom lip, you open your mouth to allow access to him.

His tongue slides into your mouth, clashing against yours without a fight. You couldn’t get enough of him, he sits up and hovers over you, not moving his lips from yours. You spread your legs to allow him to sit comfortably as he continues to kiss you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging on it slightly which made a slight groan come out of his throat. You began to get wet just from the sound he made, the kiss growing needier from both parties.

You feel his hard cock press against you from his jeans while your tongues intertwine. His hand creeps up your shirt and lands on the soft fabric of your bra, squeezing your breast. His like trail from your lips to your cheek and down your neck, peppering small kisses to your exposed skin. You sigh in pleasure when he sucks the tender sweet spot right below your ear, leaving behind a purple bruise that would be hard to hide.

He pulls away from your body for a moment, tossing his shirt to the side of your room before helping you do the same. You reveal your black bra but you quickly reach behind you, unclasping it and throwing it to the rest of the clothes.

“Jesus.” Eddie groans deeply as he sees your tits for the first time, it was so much better than he had imagined.

He pushed you back down, making you bounce a little on your back as you grin. He looked at you with so much need and desire it was unbearable. He slides out of this jeans and quickly begins to work on the button and zipper of your jeans, leaving you in your red laced underwear. Your eyes fixate on his hard cock through his underwear, your mouth practically watering, but you knew you didn’t have much time.

“Steve should be on his way, yeah?” Eddie breathes from above you, you nod. “Better make this quick.”

He lifts your hips a little and he slides your underwear down your legs, sucking in a deep breath when he sees your wet cunt glistening in the light.

“Fuuuuck.” He draws out, “So pretty for me.”

His face hovers over your cunt, observing the slick you had collected within the past few minutes. He kisses your thighs, going up further and diving straight into your cunt. His tongue licks a broad stripe from your opening to your clit, you let out a soft mewl at the sensitive sensation.

Part of your brain was fighting with you, saying it was wrong because you hadn’t really known him for long and he was your brothers best friend, but the other side knew that it felt too good to bother fighting.

“Oh shit.” You gasp quietly while his tongue moves circles around your clit.

You swore he was some sort of professional, maybe even a pornstar, just by the way his tongue danced on your cunt. You hadn’t expected him to know exactly what he was doing because of the track record he has for relationships. Maybe he hooked up with girls after his shows at this hideout? Maybe girls from school? You didn’t care enough in the moment to figure it out, you’d ask him at a later time.

His lips latch around your sensitive bud and he sucks gently, releasing a moan from your throat and your fingers cling to his hair. You give an experimental tug on his hair, a guttural groan comes out of his mouth and it buzzes against your clit. You let out a moan at the extra sensation, his eyes meet you as his mouth keeps its place on your clot.

“You taste so good, baby.” He compliments after he pulls away. “Would love to taste you more but it’s only a matter of time until Steve gets home.”

He crawls back up to you and pecks your lips again, your fingernails rake against his torso. You reach to the side and open the bedside drawer, pulling out a book and Eddie immediately looks at you confused. You open it a little halfway through and pull out a condom, throwing the book to the side as you hand it to him.

“I honest to god had no clue where this was going.” He snickers, grabbing the condom.

“Well that was always my hiding spot for shit that I didn’t want my parents to find.” You explained with a grin.

He smirks before sliding out of his boxers, his cock on complete display for you to see and you were aching for him even more. He opens the foil with his teeth, spitting it into the floor and rolling the rubber onto his cock.

He slots himself between your legs, grabbing the base of his cock and swiping it between your folds, teasing you with a smug look on his face.

“Don’t be mean.” You whine with a pout, he mocks your pout.

“Aw am I being mean sweetheart?” He mocks. “If you ask me, I think I’m being pretty nice.”

“This isn’t called being nice.” You shake your head, he smirks.

“Oh I’m not being nice?” Eddie tuts, pushing his mushroom tip into you.

You whimper as he begins to stretch you out already.

“From the sounds you’re making, it seems like I’m being pretty damn nice if you ask me.” He chuckles, pulling his tip out of you.

“Please.” You plead, a spark in his eye was very noticeable when he hears you beg for him.

“Please what?” He pushes, a smirk spread widely across his face. “Oh, you want me to fuck you, hm?”

You couldn’t speak, you just nodded.

“I don’t know sweet girl, the thought of me fucking you senseless while your brother’s home is enticing.” He hums. “Maybe make you wait a little longer, have him wondering where we’re at while I’m deep inside you.”

His tip is pushed into you again, another whence being pulled from you body. It was absolute torture to wait like this but you were eating it up. You just needed him right then and there.

“I’m feeling quite generous, though.” His voice is deep and low as he pushes himself into you even further.

He sinks into you lower and lower until he finally reaches the hilt. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure as he stretched you out, he felt way bigger than he looked which was saying something because he was massive. He draws his hips back before slamming into you, causing you to cry out. He looks down at you to see if you were fine, you flash him a grin to let him know that you were perfectly okay.

His thrusts were slow and deep at first but once you had adjusted to his size, he picked up the pace. His hands grip onto your hips, his fingertips leaving behind bruises while his cock repeatedly hits your cervix.

“Fucking Christ baby, you’re doing so well for me.” He grits, watching himself slide in and out of you.

His hair and body is drenched in sweat as he fucks into you deeply, your moans blend with the sounds of Eddie’s grunts and your body crashing against his. Your fingernails sinks into his back, he pulls you even closer and lifts your legs slightly for even deep penetration. He locks eyes with you, your mouth parts slightly and your eyebrows furrow as his dick continues its hard pattern in and out of your cunt.

“Oh g-god Eddie, right there!” You cry out, your legs already beginning to shake while his thrusts continue.

His grunts grow louder and louder with each thrust, his eyes never leave yours unless it’s to look at himself gliding in and out of you. You ramble his name over and over like it was your personal prayer to god, you weren’t able to get enough of him. You were beyond addicted to him at this point like he was your lifeline. His thrusts begin to falter as he gets closer to his climax, you would be lying if you said you weren’t nearly there yourself.

“You look so beautiful being split open from my cock like this.” He growls, his harsh grip tightening on your hips. “You like when I fuck you like this? Hm?”

“Y-yes!” You squeal, your climax quickly approaching.

“Wonder what your brother would do if he found out.” He snickers, his balls repeatedly slapping your skin while his cock is buried deep within you. “What would Steve think about his little sister being fucked senseless by me?”

You couldn’t answer, no words were able to escape your lips, only the sound of your moans could be heard. He pushed for an answer, his hips snapping into you harshly only made it harder to answer.

“Oh my god Eddie!” You scream as you clench around him.

Your eyes roll to the back of your skull when your climax finally hits you. Your toes curl as your back arches off of the bed, a wave of pleasure floods through your body and you see sparks. Your legs shake uncontrollably while he continues to fuck into you, his climax quickly building up at the sight and feeling of your orgasm crashing through you. He tried to hold it back but he couldn’t, his hips slowly rut into you while he works his way through his own orgasm, hot white ropes of cum filling the rubber he still had inside of you.

He cautiously pulled out of you whilst you were both still excruciatingly sensitive because of your orgasms. He rolls the condom off and tosses it in the trash can that say in the corner of your room and cleans himself off before slowly putting his items of clothing on. Once you caught your breath and your body relaxed you put on a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas. He flashes you a grin and presses a kiss to your lips, you kiss him back immediately with a smile.

Just like clockwork you hear the front door opening and the sound of shoes walking into the living room. You and Eddie share a quick glance before trying to come up with something on the spot as an excuse for why he was in your room since you knew whoever it was had seen his van in the driveway.

“Quick, had me that screwdriver.” He points at the edge of your closet while he kneels in front of your bedroom door.

You do exactly what he tells you, handing him the screwdriver but unsure as to what he was doing. You fix you hair to make it lay over your shoulders to conceal the hickey he had left on your neck. You hear footsteps and walking up the stairs and come to a complete stop in front of your door.

“That should work better for you, don’t have to worry about it falling off of the hinges.” Eddie grunts, tightening a screw on your door.

“Thanks, I have no clue what happened.” You play along.

Eddie gets off of the floor and opens the door, revealing Steve standing in the hallway looking confused and almost concerned. You smile to Steve and thank Eddie for “fixing” your door.

“Everything okay?” Your brother questions, standing there with a hand on his hip.

“Yeah, my door just got too loose and fell I suppose.” You shrug.

“Uh, yeah. Alright then.” Steve states, his eyebrows still furrowed and he shakes his head. “Still plan on helping out during the party?”

“Do I ever say no?” Eddie chuckles. “See you around, Harrington.”

You nod graciously and they walk down the stairs, Eddie glances behind him for a moment and gives you a wink, the butterflies coming back again. You close your door and the day finally sinks in.

What have you gotten yourself into?

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie st4 #eddie x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

394 notes · View notes

pixelartparker · 2 months

Note

Hellooo! Would you please make Alcina Dimitrescu from Resident Evil Village? Thank you *v*

Another request thank you! I love Village ^^ Lady Dimitrescu has a very challenging design lmao but here she is!

I hope you like it :)

Suggestions, tips, and requests are welcome!!! I don't do any NSFW but I'll create for any fandom. Feel free to use this for something if you want. A like, reblog, or follow if you do would be appreciated!

~Parker

#resident evil village #pixel art #aroace artist #my art #parker’s art #pixel #pixel aesthetic #pixel illustration #pixelated #redraw #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #i'm learning #parker answers #lady dimitrescu

148 notes · View notes

bunniekittiee · 5 months

Text

Christmas SZN w/ Raiden

Raiden x Fem. Reader

Content warning: p in v, reader referred to she/her, female anatomy, a little smutty

SFW-

Raiden is a v giving man, and as everyone knows, he is humble.

He will spoil his gf/wife, he does not care at all.

He likes to buy meaningful presents such as jewelry. But he also likes to get them gifts that he thinks are cute or that she would like.

Examples are: stuffed animals, makeup, perfume, etc.

He loves making her happy and seeing her face light up when she opens the gifts.

He enjoys staying indoors and drinking hot tea or hot chocolate.

He also loves cuddling with his s/o. It’s definitely good bonding time with him.

Will stack blankets on him and his s/o, he feeds off of her warmth as she does his.

Kisses galore! He absolutely adores his s/o like seriously. And especially around the holidays, he cannot help but feel an insane amount of joy.

He makes sure his s/o dresses warm if they go out. He doesn’t want her to be freezing cold.

However, he doesn’t mind if she cuddles into him in public or presses herself against him to get warmth.

Raiden is just happy to have her near.

Kung Lao pretends to gag and throw up if they are lovey dovey in public or around him. But it’s all jokes, he’s happy for Raiden.

Raiden is more than happy to decorate a Christmas tree.

He loves how fresh the pine smells and sometimes it smells Christmassy to him.

He has a hard time explaining that lmao.

Will help his s/o reach the top of the tree and will put ornaments up there if she cannot reach it.

As I mentioned and as we know, Raiden is v humble. He doesn’t expect anything for Christmas. He is happy with what he has already.

But she still buys him gifts. Her and Kung Lao will go out together to buy them while Raiden trains with the new Shaolin as ordered by Liu Kang.

Liu Kang did it for her and Lao so they could go out and buy his gifts with ease.

The Fire God is always willing to help!

Raiden is surprised when he is gifted presents. He really didn’t expect anything.

Absolutely loves anything and everything his s/o gives him. He is happy with all of it.

V appreciative.

Raiden adores it when he is gifted a custom made hat similar to the one he always wears. He likes to try new things out, especially with outfits.

Plus he likes to see what makes him more intimidating even though he isn’t the scariest.

NSFW-

Raiden is def into the Christmas spirit, and he’s def inside of his s/o.

After a long day of celebrating with friends and family, he is ready to go home and relax.

But he will not turn down sex. He is ready within any moment.

Since he is v appreciative, he likes to show that by eating his s/o out.

Takes his time and focuses on his s/o.

He wants her to feel good.

Raiden is slow and sensual during sex, he does not like to be super rough. He’s a love maker rather than a fucker.

Will go for as many rounds as his s/o wants to. Again, he wants her to enjoy her time as well.

Also likes to compliment her during their session and tell her how beautiful she is or how good she’s doing.

He thinks praise is something good to hear while in the middle of sex.

If his s/o were to surprise him with lingerie, he is a mess.

Tries to be respectful but his eyes deceive him. He can’t help it.

Raiden enjoys Christmas and the Christmas season that comes with it, that’s a fact.

#mortal kombat #mk 1 2023 #mk1 2023 #mk1 #mk 1 #mk raiden #raiden mk1 #mk1 raiden #raiden x reader #raiden x you #raiden x y/n #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat raiden #mortal kombat smut

311 notes · View notes

thisismeracing · 5 months

Text

King of my heart | MS47 | Part. 23

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x fem!hamilton!reader ― Warnings: graphic description of unprotected sex (fingering, dirty talk, and p in v), mentions of alcohol, and jealousy. ― Summary: It the ending of the season and fans get a glimpse on Mick and Yn’s perspective. ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

part. 22 | series masterlist | part 24

November, 2023

lewishamilton

liked by pierregasly, temsbaby, and others

lewishamilton You'll always be my baby sister, my bisty. I don't care how old you are, if you're dating, if you have kids of your own, or if you get married, you're forever the baby I held and knew I would protect with my life. Happy birthday theofficialyn 💙

view all comments

pierregasly Happy birthday, Hamilton baby! 🥳

⤷ hammertime_ why this is so funny to me

⤷ theofficialyn pierre 😠 hamilton baby sounds as if he’s my dad lol

ynfan my fav sibling duo 🥹💖

landonorris happy birthday to my fav brit girl! 💗💗

schumimick imagine having these genes and being born this pretty!

mickschumacher 🥹❤️

⤷ leclerccookies not even mick can’t resist baby yn!

⤷ dreiricciardo mick is the weakest for her and we know it

theofficialyn I love you, lew! thank you for always taking care of me 😭💗 my fav brother 💗

⤷ sainzfiftyfive do they have more siblings? what?

⤷ schumercedes I guess this is the joke, he’s her only brother 😂

georgerussell63 Happy birthday, Yn!!! Love you tons, please stop giving merc admin memes ideas 😘❤️

ginaschumacher

liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and others

ginaschumacher life gave me a little sister and I have never been so grateful. Thank you for being you, and for shining your light on everyone around you. I wish you the happiest life, Yn. I love you tons! 👩🏼‍🤝‍👩🏾💘

view all comments

fan02 Is that mickyn I see? Did gina just fed us mickyn crumbs? 😭😭😭😭😭😭

mickschumacher I had no idea you took that pic haha 💜 we look cute, ily

⤷ astonmartinha GINA POSTED MICKYN 😭😭😭

theofficialyn I love you, g! You’re a gift life brought to me and I’ll cherish and keep you forever! 👩🏼‍🤝‍👩🏾💞💞

⤷ burrowleclerc oh to be best friends with my boyfriend’s sister

carmenmmundt 🥹🥰 Happy bday, Yn!!! You’re such a kind soul, and it’s an honor to be your friend. Ily!

ylnrain I find it so gentle and endearing the way the schumacher and the hamiltons became close friends all because of mick and yn. like, she could just be acquaintance with gina, but they’re always seem together and they truly root for each other, you can see it. and then there’s mick and lewis who got even closer during these past few months, like…this is some romance book typa shit and I love it!

⤷ norrizzfour bestie ur rant was longer than the birthday wishes but I love that for you 😅🤣

charles_leclerc

liked by estebanocon, carlossainz55, and others

charles_leclerc I won't say you're like a sister to me or else your brother will push me off the track 🙄 but it's a pleasure to be your friend and to share the struggles and the good things of life with you. Thank you for always remembering about me with your sugary diet vegan desserts. Life is sweeter around you! Happy birthday, Yn ❤️

comments on this post have been limited

pierregasly 👍

⤷ lewisfan not pierre jealous LMAO

⤷ theofficialyn he loves you a tiiiiiny bit more than he loves me, believe me

⤷ pierregasly yeah but he never said life is sweeter around me 🤬

⤷ arthur_leclerc he did say it was funnier tho

⤷ joris_trouche 🤔🤨🤨

⤷ theofficialyn did charles told you to comment this, arthur? 🤣

⤷ charles_leclerc I’m trying to avoid a future track collision here, Yn!

⤷ landonorris you guys so dramatic 🤦‍♂️

danielricciardo Happy birthday, Yn!!!! 🥳🥳🥳🙌🏻

carlossainz55 feliz cumpleaños, hamilton! ❤️❤️

scuderiaferrari so she HAS been bringing you sweets huh?

⤷ theofficialyn they’re all healthy I promise, I even talked with the nutritionist 😇

⤷ georgerussell63 rumor has it she didn’t talk with the nutricionista

⤷ georgerussell63 but they’re all healthy anyways, calories free and all, even I eat some!!!

⤷ theofficialyn I was about to call alex to beat ur ass!

franciscac.gomes feliz aniversário, yn! 🥹🥰💗 te amo!!!

⤷ theofficialyn I love you more, kikaaaa! 💘💘

🐦‍⬛ twitter

mickschumacher

liked by danielricciardo, mercedesamgf1, and others

mickschumacher I am the luckiest guy for having you in my life. I still remember the first time I saw you, and to this day I still feel all giddy whenever you walk into the room. I wanna spend the rest of my life by your side, smiling, laughing, crying, talking, sharing every moment. I wish you the happiest birthday, and an even happier life, Schatzi. I love you 💛 here’s to many more birthdays together

view all comments

ynsunshine the mickey shirt 😭

⤷ spanishgp23 isn’t that how yn calls him?

⤷ ynsunshine exactly!!!!! 😭

estebanocon happy birthday, yn!! 🩵🩵🩵

mercedesamgf1 happy birthday to the merc’s garage sunshine 💓

theofficialyn forever 💗

🐦‍⬛ twitter

📸 instagram

theofficialyn

liked by exudoblues, pierregasly, and others

theofficialyn had a great time in Brazil with some even greater people 💛💚💙🤍

view all comments

brunamarquezine te amooooo! 🩵🩵 (Ily)

keepupwthehamiltons I saw yn was with Iza too, and I’m manifesting something between iza and lewis like 😩😩 they would be so powerful together

mickschumacher ❤️

satelliteferrari mick showing up twice 🥰 she really said MY man

lewishamilton thank you for always having my back 💙

⤷ theofficialyn you’re my forever number 1! Love you, lew 😘

⤷ hamiltonsiblings my forever number 1 😀🥲☹️😭 meanwhile my brother calls me ugly in every possible language

1directiontrack I say give Yn the citizen title too 🇧🇷

mickschumacher

liked by estebanocon, lancestroll, and others

mickschumacher vegas, baby! 😚

view all comments

gaslightgasly I wonder if the last pic isnt a soft launch for his new seat next year 👀

⤷ schumicedes I haven’t thought about it, but it makes sense…

mickynshipper I love how they’re the center of each others posts 😩💗

sainzleclerc God, I’ve seen what you done for others 🙇‍♀️

estebanocon I like the new haircut 😎

gaslybestie I can’t be the only one who had some very age restricted thoughts with the fourth pic…

⤷ vettelforever oh you’re def not alone on this train bestie

porscheschumi I am invested on this porsche 2024 mick!! omg omg

December, 2023

📸 instagram

theofficialyn & mickschumacher

liked by temsbaby, lilymhe, and others

theofficialyn it's the most beautiful time of the year 😍❤️🎄

view all comments

lewishamilton sickenly cute, but ily 🤍

ginaschumacher its even prettier sharing it with you guys 💚

ynfan2 the way they're always included in each other's dump is so wholesome, I bet they waited way too long to do it, and now it must feel liberating

⤷ russellsainz they're showing off but I would too if I dated one of them

estebanocon merry xmas!! 🎅

sunnyyn its their first Christmas together I'm crying pls

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, lovelies! I hope you liked this quick chapter, we're about to reach the last one and I'm a bit nervoussss hihi Let me know your thoughts on this chapter and komh in general *mwah*.

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @v1naco @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @skepvids @bbreezybitch @graciewrote @ferrariloverr @heelariously @thatgibbsygirl @minkyungseokie @scopeiguess @princewis @leclercsluv @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr

#millie writes #ms47 #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher social media au #mick schumacher x black!reader #social media au f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 fandom #komh #mick schumacher instagram au #f1 instagram edit #f1 x black!reader

170 notes · View notes

darksxder · 1 year

Text

the good plant pollen

pairing: fem! recom reader x na’vi miles quaritch

summary: getting hit by a sex pollen on your first mission as a recom was not exactly ideal, but thankfully your colonel helps you out

warnings: dubious consent (due to sex pollen), pwp, masturbation, sexual tension, p in v sex, public sex, voyeurism, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, na’vi heat cycle/sex pollen, power dynamics for sure (you’re his subordinate)

word count: 12.5k (HELLO???) not even sorry, my hands ache tho (from typing, not anything weird)

a.n: i requested something similar from @shadowshart but realized I wanted to play with this idea myself also lmao (read their story it slaps!)

GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH BACKSTORY I'M SORRY OKAY.

also thank u to my roomie for helping me with ideas, love u s.

dts: to the lovely @shadowshart herself (im ur biggest fan fr, sorry i flood your inbox) & @tarrynightss for beta reading, love you bae <3, @spiderlover03 for wanting this fic so bad and always, @belle82devart

*******

You wouldn't be in this situation if you paid attention.

You swear it.

You knew you should have been paying attention to Darcy as she pointed out things from the slideshow of venomous and otherwise deadly plants and wildlife on Pandora to avidly avoid, but you swore you knew it all already. Or at least you think you did from your other life.

You remember certain blurry flashes of colours and ramblings of a safety meeting, the dim room packed with row after row of benches full of whispers and muddled mumbles of ‘dangerous’, ‘claws’ ‘toxins’ ‘ leaching from skin’. Just a monotonous repeat of: ‘deadly’, ‘deadly’, ‘deadly.

All you could truly remember was watching Quaritch’s arms flex as he addressed you all, the way his face tensed as he spoke, just an octave under a yell, always. The strain in his neck. You were in the front row, leaning in, all for the guise of catching every word he spoke and you had at the time, but still, he was the major thing on your mind even then.

And now he was still a distraction, with his thick thigh pressed against yours, his heat leeching off of him and gripping at you, travelling up your side, up your neck, tingles spreading through your extremities. If you moved away an inch you would be on Lyle’s lap. That was not an option despite the constant light flirtatious jokes shared between you.

And no matter how sick it was, you enjoyed this stolen touch. It still felt forbidden. Probably because it still was.

He was still your colonel, you were still his subordinate.

How unlucky to be given the chance to live two separate lives where you were infatuated with him, and in both, you could not have him.

He didn't seem to mind this touch now so why would you? Honestly due to this you truly had no chance of paying attention to this safety presentation before the mission. It would have usually had your rapt attention, but something about this morning had you anxious and the touch of Quaritch had your stomach all fluttery and your mind wandering as the scientist spoke.

She was a mean woman, about your age, or at least the age you were as a human, your na’vi body was only 20. She had fierce red-brown hair that hung in long, frizzy waves. A headband pushed the bangs back from her face harshly as she rolled up her sleeves and continued talking. On her pale face, she wore teal eyeliner, and you suspected it was a strange way to place herself firmly in the recom team spirit, but what got you was her personality. She was fiery, she bit back at everyone, insults that went a toe too far, were her supposed comfort, terrorizing her fellow scientists through nitpicks and badgering in sickly sweet mocking tones in the morning and dragging them to the lab past reasonable hours.

Overall just metaphorically making them bend to kiss her feet.

Quaritch liked her. Not enough to like her as a person, but enough to appreciate the snark, the tone. Enough to ask general Admore to put her on their team for good the first week when she yelled at one of her many scientist underlings who got in Quaritch’s pathway.

Sometimes you wondered if he fucked her.

But when you did, you got sick at the thought and quickly extinguished it.

You focus back, feel the rumbling of the bench underneath you. Lyle was laughing beside you so loud it reverberated through the metal. Your eyes snapped up to see a deep red, long-leaved plant displayed on the screen and all of the recoms laughing. Darcy looked a bit too pleased with her ability to make Lyle wheeze.

“Overall it's not exactly supplying the good type of plant pollen if you know what I mean.” A wink. You did not indeed know what she meant and you heard Quaritch huff a laugh behind you.

“ Unless you like being on a rock for hours, I guess. There is a reason the na’vi call it the tsewtx toruk ”

Mansk spoke behind you. “The fuck does that mean?”

You laughed, which made Darcy glare at you. “It means dirty dragon. Its namesake is for its potency, strength and umm… tenacity or stamina it gives the user. As well as the physical symptoms of intense fever and hot flashes. But again like everything else, it is deadly. You would fuck till you drop essentially. Stay away.” A click and she was onto something new and you tuned her out again. Willing yourself to soon be able to make it out of the room, to be without her nasally voice if even for only an hour’s reprieve.

You were still focused on other things, panic flaring as you remembered you got up late this morning. Now mentally calculating how fast you would have to be after the meeting to make it back to your bunk and clean up your station before bed check later when you got back. But you focused pivoted again.

Not very far, just to your right.

Your colonel was so very close to your side. You were trying not to stare, truly, but you knew you weren't doing a good job. Your side eyes were never particularly subtle, Mansk and Lyle told you this for years and yet you continued. You couldn't control it. And it didn't help that you were much more noticeable in your na’vi body.

******

You were used to being firmly human and tiny for your age.

You were a stealth operative under Miles Quaritch for the RDA at twenty years old nearly 14 years ago. A lifetime ago. Able to even sneak past every na’vi and even Eywa herself they swore, but you never thought that was quite true. They nicknamed you Ghost anyways.

You pretended to hate it.

But when you had snuck into their village one day when they were gone to the river for a ceremony, taking pictures of the internal structures undetected, the team had celebrated you. Seriously celebrated, and even made a makeshift cupcake to commemorate the breakthrough. But it was not something done lightly and the cupcake was neither edible nor good, but you had eaten it. Had smiled, and allowed yourself to be jostled by firm slaps and pats on the back of Wainfleet and the rest as the guilt gnawed at you slowly.

But Quaritch noticed, he always did.

He found you out on the bridge that night, leaning against the rail as you gazed at the depths of emerald tones that made up the forest.

“You did well today. I know it’s difficult, soldier, but you did well.”

You looked up, startled to see him at your side. So much taller than you, even as a human. White hair cropped short and clothes pressed even at the late hour. Not a single wrinkle.

The deep scars on the side of his head caught in the blue-white light of Hell’s Gate’s fluorescents as he talked. They almost shined as if they were a platinum badge. His blue eyes lit up an icy hue. You felt your palms sweat as you readjusted your grip, feeling yourself shake just slightly. The once-chilled air of the brig was warm as you felt him step beside you.

Always on your right side, after having noticed you tense the first day, when he saddled up to your left. You had bad hearing on the left side and hated the anxiety of someone being on that side. He switched wordlessly when he saw you tense. His jaw set, eyes facing forward. He did it wordlessly and never left that right side view since then, even when agitated at you.

Especially then.

If he didn't like you, which you were sure he didn't, he at least respected you.

That was rare for him and it was enough.

It was enough.

But now as you try to shove images of burning forests and screaming na’vi from your mind you could barely see him. You were so tangled, knotted and sick at the way you would be and always were in a way a part of it. All of the atrocities, the death. Once you had been passive but now you had chosen to be firmly active.

He followed your gaze to your hands, you could feel it before you matched his stare to your white knuckle grip on the metal rail. You unclenched, shaking out your burning hands. A deep sigh rumbled from his chest, the sound seemingly following the curve of your spine as he leaned back. Dog tags clinked as he leaned farther forward over the rail to properly see you, to meet your eye. You indulged him only just to see his gaze be soft if only for a fleeting second as you gave in. You were always nervous about its absence, but it was always there. For you, at least.

You tried to smile, but it was barely a twitch of your lips, your knees aching as you tensed next to him. You had been standing here for hours after the so-called ‘party’ had died down.

Music booming in your ears, rattling your hunched frame in the corner as a small smile twitched at your lips to assuage that you were okay as the world fell apart around you. Breathing in the stale air of the gym in the brig, smelling dust, metal and sweat and of course the sweet vodka peach drink Zdinarsk spilled on your elbow as you moved past her. You took in everything as you sunk into the concrete behind you, revelling in the cold bite of the chilled material. Just watched as Zdog and Prager shouted lyrics to a Jay Z song, fingers pointing up to god knows what, rotating between gesturing the song out and rounding Lyle and Mank's shoulders as they laughed, half belligerent, drinks sloshing onto the concrete ground from battered red plastic cups. Since slipping out the back and avoiding the colonel's eyes hours later, you were just here.

Unmoving as the base winded down further and people prattled around its large expanse. All flitting about with briefcases and files as they rushed past you to their makeshift homes. Tired eyes focusing on the idea of their beds as the day was wasted and the next promised to start just as early. They filled the once cold lifeless gray space with life for a time until the night truly dwindled. The eclipse lit everything a bright purple. Awash in colours of magenta, and violet you just breathed, hands shaking as you inhaled. Your gaze never leaves the wonders beyond the glass surrounding you.

Now you were here and he had finally found you.

“You know why you're so good at your job, Ghost?”

A sigh slipped past your lips. Your shoulders caved in as your eyes slid shut once more at his deep raspy voice. At the use of your moniker, a remembrance of reality. He was your colonel. You were but a soldier. You were no hero, certainly not now.

No woman he had met by chance. Not a friend of his, of anyone, no longer a sister, no longer even your first name.

Just Ghost.

“No. Why, Colonel?”

And he hated how weak your voice was as he brushed calloused fingertips against your hands. So slight you were sure it was an accident. Your gaze shot to his, heart jumping painfully, back straightening as you stiffened. His eyes kept yours as he pried your hands from the rail none so gently, turning the right palm up and sliding something small and cool into your hand before closing your fingers around it, softer than the initial yank from the rail. But only by a fraction. All he could afford you.

Shivers raced up your spine, your chest aching at the touch, lurching with it.

“Wh-”

“It’s because you care. The animals out there don't notice you because they know you care. Like they know you wouldn't hurt them, even when vulnerable and squattin’ in the mud. You just have to remember to care for your kind more, alright?”

Your lip wobbled, voice much too weak to speak as you merely nodded, gaze trailing down again. Heart racing and fear clawing at you as you just stood there, weak and mortified, scared that he knew it all. Had the power to have you called a potential traitor for your empathy.

You wondered if when he said animals he meant the na’vi or the wildlife. You swallowed hard, eyes burning, squeezing shut as if you could wring the horrible thought from your mind, keep your heart from sinking to the depths alongside your stomach. You did not want to ask, for you knew already.

Your eyes tracked your beaten-up converse on your aching feet as you shuffled from your left to right leg, ignoring the prickles that raced up your shins. Caught on the only remnant of your sister left. She died in failed cryo on the way here. The heart drawn in sharpie on your left toe from your last day together. After, you both collapsed in exhaustion from packing your small joint carry-on bag the night before shipping off. It was glaringly bright in the white-tinted light illuminating the large hall now.

Still muted, smudged, and fading, but it made you smile anyways.

They were the first thing you put on each time you got back to base. The first step after a shower.

All of this, you realized you did for her. All of those like her, those left on earth. Trapped there, on a dying planet with no solution, no real plan or power to change it.

You finally braved a look at your palm, seeing a carved metal charm sitting there amongst callouses. It was crudely carved from the material but still startlingly smooth. It was a small ghost resting in your palm. No longer than your finger pad. A small hole was punched near the head with a link there to attach to your dog tags.

You let out a laugh at the sight and Quaritch was sure he had never heard anything so sweet, so close to shattering.

Your hand, gentle but rough like his, brushed against his knuckles. But this was no accident. It could never be construed as such and that was the true danger. You focused on feeling the strength there in those three seconds before your hand fell back against the now icy rail, missing the fleeting warmth he always seemed to radiate.

You just have to remember to love your kind more, alright?

“I do.”

A nod followed your soft words and he saw then just how young you were. With your two braids falling over your shoulders as you rocked back on your heels, forearms poised on the rail as you held the charm gently, close to your hoodie-clad chest, like it might break, like someone might take it from you. He focused on the light highlighting your features, and he felt his breath still for a mere moment. All at that moment it clicked in his head as if it was invisible until now, at this moment.

You were barely past being a teen, having signed on for a suicide mission with a sister who was long dead now, with few other choices six years ago. You were an excellent sniper and a keen strategist. A good follower, who took great orders. Loyal as shit. Throwing yourself in front of many projectiles from day one for strangers, colleagues and your team alike. Hell, you were probably a better soldier than all of them combined.

But you were too young. Painfully young.

Much too sweet to have calluses so deep and eyes so pained and a voice so hollow. Too young to have lost so much.

His gaze fell to your shoes, then back up as you looked back out to the horizon. He just wished you didn't wither away, yet. You were all so close to an answer. He knew it. A solution. Pandora was it. He knew you just needed a reminder and he would give you one, just this once.

You were just a kid.

Yelling never worked with you and he could never bring himself to do it anyways. You were a motivator for everyone, always picking them up with words or hands if they fell, but you were also easily motivated yourself. Easily swayed by a belief that what you were doing was good, or right. So he would give that to you. Because he needed you, he needed this whole team.

And that's all he thought when he had found that metal shard in the yard a month ago, in the vast grasses that tickled his hands as it sat in the very middle of it all. The whole operation and base. And he took it back to his room to carve. Immediately seeing the small timid ghost in the shape. It was barely the size of the pad of his thumb when he was done, whittling it to near nothing, slivers embedded in his palm, his skin. It only took him a night. He worked in between sets of weights and paperwork he barely dared to usually do, fingers always itching to pick up the tools again. Its creation in itself was motivating.

He tried not to think of why he was doing it. Pondered why he couldn't put it down when he started.

Why did he wait so long to give it to you? Why did he dread how you would react? Why was he so sure of how you would?

Just as you were now.

Soft, kind and something else he wished he didn't see. He refused to see as he too looked at the expanse of stars above your eyes, past your stare. He wished he saw what you did there, what you talked of seeing, of feeling. You talked of a vast expanse, a deeply instilled hope, a timid purpose, a reminder that although time was not infinite, life beyond them was, the cycle of everything and anything was so endless and it didn't scare you. It brought you peace as you gazed at the bright twinkling gems cast in the inky dark.

But instead of an expanse, he saw a dome. A prison. And that charm you cradled is just the same. It was just manipulation, a trap to get you to stay.

That’s all it was.

That is all it ever could be.

******

Now you sat there trying desperately to ignore the near euphoric scent of him beside you, and how your ears were twitching towards him whenever he made a slight noise, even if it was just a deeper breath than those previous. You noted all of them and swore you could feel them in your veins.

He smelled like a bonfire, a forest after a harsh rain, coffee, something like his old cologne with tangy twists to it along with gunpowder, metal. It was perhaps what his soul could be summed up as if he had one. But you were very much sure that he didn't.

But you still managed to focus upfront once more, on Darcy’s grand hand gestures with the clink of her bangles at her thin wrists as she pointed to the moving 3D images of frightening pandora fauna. Her green eyes were bright even in the dimmed light of the command room. The hologram was now focused on a palulukan.

A leathery wolf-like thing that caught your eye. Its teeth were so large and it was around ten feet long in size, taking up the whole room. You felt your tail thwap hard against the ground, curling around your left leg as you jiggled it harshly. Lip caught in between your teeth as you tensed, but no one paid you any mind. All you felt was your heart racing so fast you swore it might break your chest open, might splat on the ground still beating its erratic rhythm. Your fingers tighten on your empty holster as if to reach for a gun to protect yourself against the hologram threat.

“Y’know, they’re not all bad up close.” Quaritch laughed beside you, a low mocking thing that did horrible things to you.

That had your head snapping to his. Jesus, he was beautiful, that's all you could think, the anger giving way to awe as you watched his nose twitch, a look of confusion on his face, but it was gone as soon as you noticed. Like it was never there.

The stripes on his face matched his nature, sharp and melted into his bone structure. Highlighting the high cheekbones and strong jaw. His recom tags twinkled as they dangled with his strong lean forward, forearms resting on his knees. It gave you a horrible sense of deja vu you couldn't quite place. You always shoved memories of your past life away and you knew why you shoved that one out quickly. The tiny ghost charm still around your recovered dog tags felt like a collar then, even if it was tucked into your shirt, away from his view. You swore he knew. Knew he owned you.

“I’m not sure I believe you. I mean this is coming from the man who was once permanently scarred by one.” You said.

A huff.

“Plus I’m not concerned. Nothing on Pandora scares me like that.” You paused, frowning. “Not anymore.”

Not since dying. He knew what you meant.

His face was stern, but playful at the edges. It was evident in his eyes that he didn’t buy it. No muscle shifted in his face or his body, not a single hue of change seen, even of a minuscule sort, and yet you knew he was aware you were full of shit.

His eyes fell to your hands twisting in your t-shirt and you stilled them.

He laughed.

“That’s not what gave you away, Peach.”

And he leaned in, the smell of him was overwhelming, intoxicating, you felt like you were suffocating, fighting the urge to take a deep gasping breath in. He smelled so good, your ears perked up, flattening against your hair, then ruffling up again as his raspy voice whispered in your right ear as it twitched at his warm breath,

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

That only helped to increase its speed, you felt like you would faint, sure you would, but it was the least of your problems as you heard the recoms shuffle and make to move out. The dim lights now burning bright. All grabbing weapons off the table and suiting up. You hop up quickly, eager to get your hands on a gun, to then check and make sure that your bed was expertly made before inspection later, excited to get out and far away from Quaritch, from the itch he left under your skin. But the firm yank to your tank top collar had you gasping and collapsing back into his chest, your nose filled with his rich scent. You could feel his strong arms around you, one at his side, flush with your body, the other at the nape of your neck like you were a rogue kitten. You could feel his breath, your body moving, arching as his chest expanded with his inhales, could feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your tailbone, digging into the soft skin there deliciously. Heart still racing.

“Where you goin’ Rookie? Chopper’ is that way.” His eyes met yours over his shoulder, your breath stalling as you felt his eyes wander like a physical touch branding you, brushing against the hemline of your top, your heaving chest. He grunted, making an exaggerated gesture to the right side, in the direction of the hangar.

“Right, I- I just forgot something.”

He snorted. “Well tough, we gotta head out. ” And that was that.

You heard Lyle laughing at your expense, pointing at your flicking tail which you grabbed from behind you in fury at the blasted thing. It was giving away way too much to devious people around you.

The Colonel just charged ahead of you all, shoulders squared and ears flicking in irritation. He looked so mad and you had no idea why. Well, hopefully, he’ll let you off easy later at the sight of your messy sheets.

Hopefully, that scary palulukan bastard won't kill you… Hopefully, it will all go fine.

********

And it was all going fine until you spotted a viper wolf from the corner of your eye. You were a mile into the journey since drop off, muscles tight and burning from hacking at plants and hiding from leering beasts. The animals still attacked people they recognized as na’vi, just not as much as an avatar driver or god forbid, a human would. None of you were as accurately attuned to silent threats as the people of Pandora were. The recom bodies were new and native in theory to this planet, but you did not grow up as they did, hell you all grew up in a tank technically.

It had been stalking you all for a long time you gathered, it had to have been, what with the way it effectively cornered you as you all were nearing a ditch drop-off along with the certain confidence to the wind up of his body. So when it finally dashed with a horrible high-pitched laughing sound everyone turned to it, but it was already in the air.

Your hand grabbed your knife from your sheath with ease, throwing yourself in front of Quaritch and swinging your arm up with a cry. The thing launched itself with so much force that it bent nearly into a c shape as your hand slammed into its abdomen, sickly thin ribs curving over your hand, teeth snapping at your face as you swung it around, twisting the knife deep, teeth gritted in a yell, neck leaned back to avoid its teeth. Blood soaked your hands as jaws snapped at you, continuing their attempt at your face. You didn’t realize you were near the edge until it was too late. A strong kick of hind legs to your ribs shoved you off the grassy hill. Your grip slipped from the knife, and the creature it was buried inside as you went down screaming, tumbling down a rock covered slope. Wind and grass whipped past you, rocks crushing bone as you rolled, limbs flailing as you fell from various heights in between harsh slopes of land. Arms tucked around your head near the end. Muffled gasps and breaths wrenched from your lungs, various hard things crushed in your chest, and mud slid into your eye, leaving you with no sight on your left side, and with no air.

You couldn't breathe. You couldn't see.

All throughout you heard constant shouts of your name, “Ghost!” and whether it was a minute or truly an eon, you finally stopped moving, collapsing on your back, wedged under a sharp rock and something delightfully soft in contrast. Your head pounded like your heart was there.

The world was truly spinning, your stomach turning violently. The taste of metal and grass in your mouth. Splinters of sunlight fractured your vision as you pried your eyes open, looking up the long hill to the sea of blurred faces. With a groan you assessed the damage quickly, and stood shakily, trudging over with only a slight limp to the clearing next to you so they could see you were alright. But with blood running down your forehead, arms swinging around for purchase as your knees buckled, you can imagine it was not exactly affirming.

“I’m okay. Is the thing dead? Are you all alright?” You asked, voice shaky.

The clinks of rocks and mud had your heart jumping as you moved back, falling on your hands and knees, moving backwards like a crab then standing again when sense came back to you.

Someone, no idea who, was making their way down the hill, at the very loud and very kind protest of your teammates.

You found your voice as your head swam with worry, your vision still too blurry to make anyone out. You didn't want them to get hurt. “No, no it's okay. I'll find my way up. Is it dead?” You called, wondering if you had asked that already, but truly unable to remember.

Your head was severely pounding. And perhaps you were fine until a wave of dizziness blacked out your vision, and your legs gave out from underneath you. Pain ripped up your tailbone to every single cell of your spine. You felt like you might throw up as you yelped. But after wincing, and back bowing in, eyes squeezing firmly shut, your gaze met a lovely red flower beside you. With a deep blue and orange center. With oval-like petals the size of your actual face. It was ripped in half savagely and you felt the ground around you in a panic, calloused fingertips meeting soft petals wedged under your ass.

Oh no. “Shit, I’m sorry.” You whined.

A laugh. You had no idea where it came from. “What is she apologizing to? A plant?” You paid them no mind, tears welling in your eyes at your destruction of the life here. It felt like you were still the same. You huffed, gazing at the horrible tear in its side. It was nearly as tall as your waist and it looked heavy, naturally leaning against a mossy tree. A thick white substance was flowing from the flower's core. It was bleeding.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry.”

Combat training takes place before logic it seemed, as your shaking hands dipped into the flower, pressing against the center as if trying to stave it from bleeding out. But as you did so a burst of yellow dust slammed into your face. You choked, stupidly taking a deep breath in through your nose as you slid your mouth firmly shut, feeling a burn in your lungs, an itch in your nostrils. You sneezed, some of the powder falling out, dusting off of you. The flower’s essence was now burning on your hands and Darcy’s warnings kicked in much too late. You rubbed them against your rough pants, with the feverish feeling sinking in. They were no longer wet like though, almost like you had absorbed the thing.

Tingles raced up your arms as you winced, moving away quickly, truly just staggering around. Wiping your hands on the ground quickly again. But as soon as you stood on your feet your vision cleared, and everything became so much brighter.

Woah.

All of your pains faded away, almost healed. You felt great honestly. Nothing felt tilted or like a scene with a film filter on now. You felt alive, it was the only word for it. And so when Quaricth made it to the bottom finally, an almost scared expression on his face, eyebrows once furrowed in worry, scrunched in confusion. Lending to genuine shock as he watched the gash on your forehead heal itself, sealing with a pink glow, leaving your blue skin perfectly untouched.

His mouth went dry, gaze straying to the plant beside you. It looked quite familiar. Then back.

“You okay, Cupcake?” You throbbed at the nickname, deep in between your thighs, so sharp you almost fully folded over. What was that? You cleared your throat, feeling the tingles from your hands race up your windpipe as if you had just drank something fizzy, coaxing your words to slow, the octave going just slightly deeper. It didn't go away, the feeling flowing up your arms and wrapping around your waist like an embrace. Oh god. “Yeah, Let’s go.” He handed you your knife, neatly cleaned on his shirt and you stashed it back at the garter on your thigh with a wink.

He felt his steps still as you moved around him, grabbing at the rope Mansk threw down as you started to climb. You looked utterly fine, but he knew you weren't. It wasn't because he watched a gash heal itself on your skin, but instead for the fact that you had winked at him. You would never have dared.

His ears twitched, his tail flicking leaves harshly before he reined himself in again, determined to keep a firm eye on you.

*******

You knew something was wrong. Knew as soon as you touched that fucking plant. As soon as your vision cleared you knew what it was, what you had just properly and thoroughly infected yourself with. The so-called “dirty dragon”. You wish you had paid more attention, wished you didn't roll down a hill and hit your head making you delirious. Wished you were not stupid enough to try to save a goddamn plant as Lyle suspected. But here you were.

Maybe there was a cure.

Maybe you could make it back in time before it kicked in. You would never tell Darcy, she wouldn't help you anyway, but the chances of no one else noticing seemed slim. You stayed at the back of the pack, covering their backs as Quaritch led them once again. His search of the forest in front of him interspersed with glances over at you that you never failed to notice.

The recoms were just as distracting, but in an irritating way. You could smell all of them, all of their signature scents like they were pressed against you, nuzzling your face. It made your head hurt. You chose to focus on the best scent, his. It was intermingled with all of the other recoms, but it was the strongest, the best.

Your heart raced as you took deep breaths in, feeling the tingles spread from your lungs to your breasts with the action. Your gun kept slipping from your grip from sweat, it clung to your skin like a film, the relative cool of the morning in Pandora wrenched from you as heat wave after heat wave hit you. Sweat sliding down your forehead and teasing your parted lips. The rub of your thighs together as you moved in a low crouch was so intoxicating. A zing of electricity flowed up your body each time the seam of your camo pants met your center.

You were wet, so wet you could feel it. It felt like a period at first and you had panicked a little before realizing na’vi women did not get those, they reabsorbed the uterine lining as all animals should. It felt almost like a weight in between your thighs, as you noticed your arms shaking beside your head all whilst you kept the gun raised. On guard still even when you felt dizzy and faint. Hot and cold. Core aching desperately.

Quaritch raised a clenched fist and you all paused immediately as if in sync. His glance over a broad, muscled shoulder was quick, “Take the gear up three clicks and wait for Ghost and I there. Make camp.” Your core pulsed at his mere voice, an urge to be closer to him undeniable as you were still at the back of the group. Confusion marring their faces. He had an order against night ops, or at least he had as a human.

“What? Stay the night here? Are you crazy?”

It was Lopez, never shy to disagree with the Colonel's orders. But the look he gave him shut his mouth up real tight, sealing his attitude off.

“Nevermind. Let’s go. Move out.” Lopez grunted, picking up Colonel's dropped pack too before leaving. Struggling with the weight Quaritch didn't even bat an eye at.

Quaritch looked so good, hand loosely poised over his comm collar, the other resting on his cocked hip, braid swinging behind him with the motion. He looked delicious and you ached at the sight of him.

“General Ardmore, we're making camp. We’ll be back at 0600 sharp the next morning.” It was not a negotiation. You would have laughed at his gall, but it was no surprise to you and the snappy talk made you bite your lip, focusing on the deep timbre of his voice, basking in the sound.

You only snapped back to reality when you noticed the silence. Your group now a blurred mess in between faraway leaves, too far away, much farther than you remember them being. The colonel's words came back to you.

Take the gear, wait for me and Ghost there.

Leave us alone basically.

Oh god.

“Looks like you got yourself into some deep shit huh, Cupcake?” You sniffed, wiping at the sweat on your hairline frantically. “I don't know what you mean, sir. What did I do?” You squinted up at him, light spilling through long leaves to illuminate his figure, his eyes burning a bright gold in its rays.

You tasted your sweat as you took deep breaths, fists clenching as you felt your nipples rub against your bra with the move, thighs clenching slightly.

“I can hear your heartbeat, remember?”

Your face blanched, going still, eyes wide as he grabbed the strap of his vest, leaning into a hip, his lowered eyes travelling down your shaking figure.

“What plant did you fall into exactly?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. He sounded smug. The bastard.

Shaking your head, you moved around him quickly, the movement matched the slight wind, bringing his scent over you in a rush. It was so sudden-so strong and good that you gasped loud and harsh. Your pupils were blown as they stared ahead at the foliage, praying something would come out of it and eat you. End your misery as you feel your cheeks burn. Jaw clenched.

You ignored every tingle and jolt as you trudged on, hearing him fall in step behind you.

“Ghost, just tell me what it is. One of the scientist freaks can help.” You scoffed, turning back sharply, almost colliding with his broad chest, your own heaving, each breath harder to grasp. You hated this, every single part of it. Hating how every part of you wanted to be plastered to him, wanted to feel all of him. How hard you had to fight it.

“No. They couldn’t. They wouldn't.” You cry, gaze, meeting the ground in shame.

“What do you mean? They have cures to nearly every poison on this dam’ planet by now.” He moved forward as he spoke, cautious like you were a wounded animal. You bit hard enough on your bottom lip to split it, tasting metal once again as you smoothed sweaty palms down your thighs, tensing as shivers racked your body with the action. He moved even closer and you backed up five quick steps, they could nearly be counted as hops, your eyes wide with alarm.

He did not understand the danger he was in. How badly you wanted him. What you would do to have him and if he kept trying to come into your space you were not entirely sure he wouldn't find out.

“It's not a poison, Quaritch.”

A breath of silence stretched between you, both of you instead focusing on the chirps and caws of Pandora wildlife around you. And that's when he noticed it. The shaking of your hands, your voice, the blown-out pupils eating away at the gold of your eyes. The sweat. The wink. It’s not poison. What else could it have been? A healing plant was unlikely to cause these side effects. What else did Darcy-

Oh.

“Take care of it.”

You scoff, cheeks burning, tail whipping behind you sharply.

“Excuse me?” It was shrill, the embarrassment rationing off your shy side to near nothing.

He gestured to the base of a large and thick tree trunk. Made a show of turning around, arms out wide, walking twenty paces out and stilling, gun at his side. Guarding you. He couldn't be serious. He couldn't. But the thought of actually doing it, sinking into the bark, tearing off your belt and slipping your hands under your pants, feeling along your cunt all whilst he listened, watched out for you? It was insane, and you refused to give in, but despite that thought your body moved for you. Your hands were moving and your knees locking before you fell to the grassy heap at the base of the tree.

******

Quaritch was sure he would pass out any minute now. He was tense, still, waiting, a part of him hoping you’d refuse, another knowing you would not be able to.

He could smell you for miles since the fall and the collision with that damn plant. He had been hard for hours, only taking point so no one else would see it. But you never noticed, you never did.

He wasn’t looking forward to the hell General Ardmore would put him through when he got back, but he knew you would not have made it back in time. He may have been distracted during the safety presentation by your scent, your warmth, and the touch of your soft thigh through his cargo pants but he paid attention, and it paid to do so. So he knew the shit you were in and it was deep. This was meant to be agony. He just knew- His ears swivel at the clink of your belt, followed by a rush of soft breaths.

Rustling has his tail twitching up, flicking side to side, nearly hitting his bent arm on the downswing. But it goes silent again and he can't help it. “You okay, Peach?”

Your moan is loud and he chokes, nearly falling over, fighting the urge to look, already perfectly picturing what he would find. He could hear you. How slick you were, he could smell it, his mouth watering, heat pooling in his stomach, fists clenching.

“God please keep doing that, Quaritch.” You gasped. His dick twitched. He stops, stomach flipping. “Doing what?” He drawled, bringing the last syllable on a walk, loving the squeak you made in its favour. His voice came out deeper, more rasped than he would have liked but he just swallowed, hard. Fighting to not look over, slightly failing and getting a sliver of blurred blue in his peripheral vision, a glance at scattered clothes nearest to him.

“Talking.”

God. Someone save him.

It was wrong, all so wrong and yet he would do whatever you wished at that moment. He would say anything you wanted.

“What do you want to hear?”

A slick sound and another gasp and he swore he cracked a tooth with how hard he clenched his jaw. “Anything. Just need your voice. I love your voice. Fuck!” And he groaned, ears twitching against his head, eyes squeezed shut as he fought the urge.

He wouldn't do this, he wouldn't. It wasn't right, but still, he talked.

“I can smell your cunt.”

A moan.

“I could smell it for fucking miles ever since you ran into that fuckin’ plant. Could smell you. Could hear your heartbeat…both of them.”

He couldn't breathe because every time he did, he smelt you, he breathed you in and he was one step closer to losing it. To breaking.

“Never wanted to fuck something so bad in my life. Wanted to pin you up against a tree, rip all the damn' clothes off of ya’ until you admitted what you need.” He could hear your heightened breaths. “Please, I'm so close.” But he stopped, shaking his head.

“What-why?” you called, voice vulnerable. It was a whine and he was delighted. This was power and he knew how to wield it. You always wasted yours.

You could have had him back there at the bottom of the hill if you asked, in front of his whole damn team if you wished. Hell if you jumped him he would have gone for it, no questions asked. You could have had him at fifty one when you wanted him. He would’ve fucking taken you. It would have been wrong, but he would not have cared. But you never did try, never even got close when you could have. You never did the wrong thing, the thing you wanted. Needed.

But he was not you.

“I'll keep talkin’ till you cum all over those pretty fingers enough to be cured Cupcake, even if it takes till fuckin’ sunrise. But only if you let me watch.” His voice came out as a drawl, southern accent sticking to every syllable. His ears twitch to better hear you reply. It was immediate.

“Turn around.”

And he does, slow and sure like. It takes everything in him to do it that way. To not seem too eager, like he hadn't been thirsting for your pussy since you were first placed on his team, when you were barely more than a teen. You were barely twenty and he was starting fifty, and yet he had wanted you. Human or not, Miles Quaritch wanted to fuck you and he was convinced that would never go away. You were not simply something he could get out of his system, but he would try.

Good God.

His heart stopped as his gaze met yours. Your eyes half-lidded, wobbly knees pulled apart, showcasing your drenched fucking cunt. You were wearing nothing but your dog tags. He found himself walking towards you, focused on the many strands of hair that fell from your braid, plastering themselves to your body, your neck, and your arms. Your face lovely and flushed, lips parted and swollen, but not as much as they ought to be. He drops to his knees in front of you, uncaring for the gun he throws in the grass somewhere around behind him, gaze never leaving you. Your heaving chest, your heavy breasts, your full blue curves in the sunlight.

“Talk.”

It was a demand and he could meet it.

“Yeah, whatever you want, baby. I’ll do anything you want.” He was stomach to the ground, palms gripping at the earth beside him as if for solace as he took a deep breath in and held it. His eyes flashed open as he watched your small lean fingers messily draw circles on your clit, hips jerking up, chest heaving. It wasn’t enough and the scrunch between your brows was from pain, not pleasure. He was breaking as your eyes met his. It was not the first time you looked at him like that, with enough lust to make his stomach flip, but it was certainly the first time he had ever been able to do something about it.

Jesus, he needed you.

“Use me, baby, please. I can give you what you need, y’know I can. I’ll fill you up, fuck that pollen right out of you if you want me.” A shocked sound came from you as if personally offended, hands falling off your body. You stood on wobbly knees and he joined you, cock aching as he stared down at your small flushed frame. You were beautiful like this. Perfect.

He was giving the power to you. Addressing the imbalance. You could refuse him, you could shove him away and he would willingly go, but he knew you wouldn't.

“ I want you. I a- I want you. Please.” It was a rasp, your voice near gone, throat parched. And your hands, hot as the sun gripped his tank top in fistfuls under his vest. He could feel your touch even above the cloth. At first he thought you were pulling him in until you whined when he tried to close the space. Hand smoothing up his shoulders. “Want this off?” He asked, hands on his vest. You only nodded and he unclipped it, not needing to be told twice, dropping it slowly to the tree beside him, your hand now laid on his bare shoulder.

“More.” Another demand.

He barely refrained from ripping the thing off. Settling for grabbing fistfuls on the back of his shoulders and pulling it up and over his head. Before he even tossed the shirt to the ground you were kneeling, thumbs dipping to rest on his hip bones. Your nose sliding up the line of his abs, inhaling deeply. He gasped, hand finding your hair, feeling the sweat there as you licked and kissed up his stomach.

One of his hands falling to the tree to keep his knees from fuckin’ giving out. You devour every inch of skin he showed. It was perhaps the first time he ever felt worshipped, with hands the heat of the sun gripping at his lithe waist, pulling and tugging him how you wanted, as you kissed, licked and bit at him, taking your pleasure with his. Your face rubbed along his hard-on through his pants nearly every third time you kissed his abdomen or sucked on a spot of his waist.

Butterflies. He got fucking butterflies like a teenage girl when you met his eyes, smiling before pressing the softest touch he had ever experienced in both lives, above his belly button.

That was it. “Oh, fuck it.” He rasped, pulling you up by the hands still on his waist, smoothing them up to rest around his neck, soothing your confusion with shushes as his hands tucked under your thighs, yanking you up as you yelped, a giggle falling from your lips. But you were not deterred, lips attacking his neck on the left side, under his jaw right by his chin and ear, and he nearly collapsed at the feeling, the pleasure that shot deep through his veins. With a deep breath his forehead met the tree. Fucking damn it, you would be the death of him. He overestimated how much strength he needed to carry you, to fuck you standing and you landed on his big blue chest, center landing on his sternum as gravity slowly pulled you down, the ridges of his abs rubbing into your puffy clit.

*******

You threw your head back at the feeling. Your thighs squeezed his sides as you slid down to rest on his hips. His head tilted back too then, a small huff leaving his nose as he went to gaze at the sky, as if to ask for mercy. You licked a hot line up his throat, sucking hard and he moaned, vision breaking to land back on you. Furious, he looked furious and it made another honest to god giggle leave your lips. The sound made your stomach flip, your core aching as you ground your hips into him hard. But with your look at the blue sky next when he dove to kiss your neck, reality cut through the pollen-induced haze.

You were taking advantage of the situation. He was only doing this to help you, a member of his team, that was all.

“Wait, wait,” you called, breathless and panting and he did, pulling back immediately, alarm on his face. A question in his lust-blown eyes, the golden green hue nearly swallowed by the dark pupil.

“You don’t have to do this. I don’t want to infect you” You said, tears in your voice. He tensed, hands readjusting you as he aimed to meet your eyes. He hadn’t even considered you infecting him, he knew you couldn’t. But you looked so sad. Then he got it. You had to be kidding. You thought-. Fingers firm but gentle on your chin made your gaze match his. He looked down, heart nearly stopping as he saw the ghost charm glint in the sun, newly attached to your dog tags.

A gasp left him. His gaze matching yours, now electric. He would devour you. “I’d fuck you whether or not I’m high on some plant, Peach. I’ve wanted to fuck you for ages.” It came out as a purr against your cheek as he leaned in, finally admitting it.

And you know he means it. You see it in his eyes, and you swear it’s enough to do you in.

You laugh, a truly mean-sounding thing. A smirk slides onto your face. His face tucked into your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you whined, hips jerking. He could feel your wetness on his fingers, sliding down your thighs, the hard pebbles of your nipples and your heartbeat roaring against his chest in tandem. Your short breaths caught against his ear as he ground into you. You sounded nothing short of heavenly, heat curling in his abdomen, an ache forming in his chest and navel, electricity smoothing up his arms at your feverish touch.

But he felt you pulling away. He took a long time to pull away from you, even longer to open his eyes. “What, what’s wrong?” His voice was nearly gone, cracking at the seams, it was all pure ecstasy.

Another laugh met his ears as your shaky legs met the ground. You turned so your back was to him. A flush of heat slammed into him as he took the view in. He marvelled at the slope of your spine, the dips at your blue hips, the stripes on your skin, the glowing dots across your shoulder blades. You place your palms on the tree, feet spread just slightly apart and then you lean back, putting just about everything on display.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just want you to fuck me from behind.”

And his hands are on your hips before you even truly finish your sentence. You hear the clink of his belt, hear it slide out of the loops, falling to the grass carelessly behind you.

“Can you do that?” You ask, hips swerving. It was a taunt. He wanted you, he could come get you.

Your back arched, pussy aching, truly dripping, heat plastered to your sweaty skin. You were fearless then, for the first time in your life. It came from being truly wanted, even if for a brief moment. A brief dalliance would be all this ever was anyways.

A quick yank to your braid as he wrapped it around his fist had you gasping, pleasurable pain ricocheting up your spine, your ass rubbing against his crotch as he pressed into you, the tree bark just barely brushing your nipples and you nearly screamed. It was too much.

“I can and will fuck you anyway you want. I’d fuck you standing.” He nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his tongue sliding along your tendon, the cool wind latching onto the saliva and making you shiver so hard you squeezed your eyes shut, knees locking, bark digging into your skin. He chuckled, “I’m gonna be buried so deep inside this cunt you'll never be able to forget it.” His filthy words were accompanied by one strong palm smoothing over your left hip, pressing against your abdomen, ghosting your navel. “You’re gonna feel me here.” You whined. Clenching around nothing.

It was painful. The plant coming in full force, demanding to be bred and fucked. Waves of pain spread the feeling of knives along your skin and he seemed to notice the switch from pleasure to pain again. His mask dropped. He didn’t ask what you needed, he already knew. Fingers slipped down to your cunt, and he swore, his hand slipping almost past it with how slick you were as if moving through water.

“Fuck, you're so wet.” One hand gripped at your breast, acting as an anchor to his chest, to ensure you stayed steady, ready for him as he thrust three fingers inside you. He swore as he felt your tight, slick heat.

A gasp and a moan met his ears as your back arched, ass pressing into him, one hand gripped at his wrist, begging for what you were not sure about- but he did. His fingers were so thick, so good and you couldn't even think as he pressed three inside you all at once with a deep groan, slowly pumping them in and out, the sound of it almost comically loud as he focused on pressing up at just the right angle and depth to have you screaming, clenching around him so perfectly.

Fuck, you were going to absolutely milk his cock.

You fell forward, pleasure rushing over you like waves. You grasped at the tree desperately, knees going weak. “Please,” you moaned as his thumb slipped over to rub small tight circles around your clit. You went higher and higher, breaths lasting mere seconds as you gasped, voice high as you moaned. It was so fucking good, your tip toes pressing into the ground as you leaned up into his touch, hips grinding on his huge fucking hand. His thrusts turned faster, harder, hitting the perfect spot. A sharp press of his fangs to the back of your neck, the broad base of his chest against you, pressing your nipples just slightly against the rough bark and you shattered.

He had to hold you up as he kept pumping his fingers, barely able to move them as your orgasm took over, clenching around him in waves as he continued to fuck you. It was a momentary reprieve. He could tell that was not enough because your breaths just picked up speed again and you arched your back further. “Inside, please. I just need you. I’m ready.” He wasn't sure if that was true, but he also couldn't imagine you could be more prepared. He pulled his fingers out of you, watching your essence fall to the forest ground.

He gripped your jaw, pressing you hard against the tree, your wide eyes meeting his, cheeks flushed purple, drool spilling from your lips. He nearly came at the sight. Quaritch pulled you back against him hard and you gasped, limp in his arms. Brought his arms in front of you, his right hand covered in your slick, his pointer finger trailing your lower lip and your tongue snuck out to taste. But his hand was gone, pulled away with a click of his tongue, head shaking down at you. “You’re so messy. Look at you, such a slut.” He spat the words out and you ached. He heard your heart beat jump and he laughed, bringing his hand to his mouth instead, tongue swirling around his fingers.

Eyes closed, he moaned at the taste. He was starving for it. You tasted so sweet. Truly like a peach. He licked every bit of it off of him as you whimpered at the sight. You tasted like heaven. He needed more, but he knew that wouldn't satisfy what the pollen induced lust was craving, so he shoved you forward again, your shoulder meeting the tree with a wince, pleasure shooting down to your cunt at the roughness.

“Finally fuck me.” You pleaded, ass wiggling back, voice edged in anger, frustration. And he broke. He yanked the rest of his clothes off faster than what should have been possible, bare feet bracing inside of yours as he rubbed himself along your pussy. You were plenty wet and smiled at the feeling. He had been fully hard since he turned around and saw you, since then just pulsing, feeling as his pants tried to stretch to accommodate him.

It was a mild relief. He could give you more of it.

He tapped his head against your clit just to hear you hiss, see hints of your fangs. Moving down he lead himself to your cunt. The slide inside you was immediate, and he swore, tensing every muscle in his body in an effort not to cum immediately. “Oh fuck, Peach.” He tried to think of something else, something other than your perfect fucking pussy clenching around him, tugging him in further like he was meant to fit there inside you near to the hilt forever. You felt like warm silk and he could feel himself get close, all as your hips moved back and forth, still struggling to take him all in. “Don’t.” he rasped.

You stilled, smile falling as you peered back at him, worried he changed his mind, worried you would never get the release you needed for the pollen to leave you.

“If you move, I'll cum.”

But that did not deter you. Actually, it seemed to make you move faster. You pulled off him, nearly hugging the tree until just the sensitive tip of his cock was inside you before sliding all the way back with a roll of your hips that had his hands seizing, his abdomen lurching in pure pleasure. “Fuck sake, stay still, girl.” You clenched around him at the nickname and he chuckled. He saw how it was. Two could play this game. If he would come quick, he would make sure you did it first, as many times as he could wrench from you. And his words always seemed to do the trick.

“Should have known you were a fuckin’ freak. The way you looked at me back then was absolutely filthy, baby. You wanted me even when I was fifty, isn't that right?” The southern drawl sounded so mocking as he thrust into you. It wasn't really a question, but he stilled, waiting for your answer.

“Yes!” You yelled, shame burned your cheeks as he slid his own against yours, leaning forward over you making you moan. He was so nice and deep. You could feel his smirk. But you were rewarded for honesty.

He thrust into you so hard you saw stars before falling into a nice rhythm. Staying slow and hard with his thrusts as he spoke, his sweaty chest plastered to your back as his balls slapped against your clit. In between grunts and gasps, he spoke near your ear, but it was nowhere near a whisper. There was a bigger thrill because he was so loud. Anyone could hear, anyone could see. “Y’would’ve let me use that perfect young cunt any time I wanted, huh? Let me bend you over my desk right before a meeting, fuck you full. Have you leave with my cum’ still drippin’ down all over your pretty legs.” His words and a fast circle to your clit have you cumming again, this time around his cock.

He swore, veins in his neck popping as you bared down on him, squeezing him for all he was worth. His own high closing in as he thrusted harder, slamming deep inside you, brushing something you didn’t even know existed. A gasp falling from your lips, eyes rolling back. He pushed a large hand into the divot of your back to force a deeper arch, your head falling forward as you braced for him. And he fucked into you hard and fast through your orgasm and past that, when you were so sensitive you barely realized that the heat was almost gone, the excess of sweat slowed to nearly nothing but from the exertion Quaritch was putting you through.

“Where do you- damn, “ a huff against your back, “I’m gonna cum, fuck-, where do you want me?” His hips moved as if to pull out of you as he asked, but you let go of the tree with one hand, grabbing the back of his thick thigh, getting half a handful of his ass, pushing him closer to you as you rock back on his cock, rolling your hips, making an effort to grind against his pelvis with fervor.

Head tilted up, fucking begging internally for him to grab your throat, to lean down and kiss you, but you knew he wouldn’t.

Not on the lips. He would never.

“Inside Miles, cum inside me.” And it was you saying those words, your sweet voice breathy and the feel of you around him that did him in. Warmth flooded your core as he fucked up into you, in three hard slow thrusts, the sofest sounds you have ever heard from him escaping his lips as his head fell against your shoulder, shaking against your back, his ragged breaths making your hair stand up as you shivered, grinding back into him in slow circles. And he winced, making a noise that could almost be construed as whining if you were listening.

He was all over you, his scent flooding you, his seed inside you, spilling around his cock and down your legs. His sounds were so sensually sweet and it made your heart ache. He was yours. You would make sure of it. And you felt the heat rise in your body again, undeniable and painful.

When he pulled out, you turned, and in the last burst of a pollen-induced haze you grabbed the back of his neck, bringing his neck to your mouth, your fangs immediately piercing into his skin, tasting blood, marking him. He grunted in surprise, wincing as his arms grabbed your elbows, not pulling you away but holding you all the same. It was a primal thing, an urge you weren't even sure you could have, until you fulfilled it. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, lapping at the blood, delighting in the absolute pained sign-turned-moan that left his open mouth as you sucked at his blood, tearing slightly into his skin to affirm your mark.

A sudden shot of cum shot out across your abdomen as he wrapped your legs around him, his arms firmly around your back. Promptly falling on his ass with the force of his orgasm, moaning as his hips bucked into the air, chasing something that already passed.

You had done that.

The feeling of your fangs piercing his neck, marking him as yours had brought another orgasm right beside his last. Not even a minute later. That would not have been possible for any being other than a na’vi, and at this moment you were grateful for it. His strong arms held you tightly against him, your rapid deep breaths matching his, your ear plastered to his slick chest, the uneven rush of his heartbeat having your lips curl up. You looked up to see his eyes closed, squeezed shut as if in pain, rough hands slowly rubbing circles into your back, tracing the points of bioluminescence there, dewy grass tickling your knees on either side of his hips.

You felt the ache from the rough sex before the soreness in your muscles came over you. A side effect of the way he manhandled you or from the pollen you were not sure. You can't believe you just did that. You were in such shit. But it was not over yet. Both of you refuse to get up, to leave this haven and return to the realm where this is forbidden.

Your palm smoothed up his pec and farther to his neck, landing on the fresh blood there. You looked up, moving slightly off him, taking his jaw gently in your hands. His eyes looked calmer now, but his pupils were still very large as he watched you, breathing hard through his open mouth. You felt his breaths under your left hand on his chest, rising up and down with its force, gazing at his muscled figure, taking in every inch shamelessly. And he looked back at you tentatively, but not guarded.

Trusting.

Your other hand tilted his jaw to one side as you leaned against him, sweaty chests meeting as you felt his breath hitching. You placed a kiss on the bite mark and he flinched.

“I’m so sorry.” You said, voice tired but sincere. He just squeezed your hip, unable to talk. Not now, not like this. He was too vulnerable.

Your pointer finger found the spot you were looking for. The small freckle on his neck to the left side, on the edge of his adam’s apple. Dipping further down, strands of your hair tickling his chest you ever so softly kissed his beauty mark. A whisper of a touch. A loving touch.

Quaritch breathed sharply through his clenched teeth, like he was in pain and your eyes watered.

“Thank you.” You whispered, pulling away, hands sliding down his chest to his abdomen where your hips sat. It was such a soft gesture, your lashes fluttering as you met his eyes once more.

It was too much.

“No problem, Ghost.”

You tensed above him, but forced yourself to relax again. Your throat burned with the tears as you pushed up off of him. Still slow and cautious. You didn't want to give too much away. Not anymore.

That use of your alias was deliberate. It was a placement of the iron wall between you once more and although you knew it was coming, expected it even, it still felt like your heart was collapsing, wildly jumping all around your body as pain laced through your every shaky breath. Your jaw clenched tight, leaving him in a pile on the grass. It was hard to angrily walk away after taking a pounding like that, if anything you angrily wobbled away, but still, it was done. You wiped the cum off your body with leaves, and roughly stepped into your clothes. Your braid was undone, brushed with your fingers and redone. No need to keep it down.

You were sure he didn't leave any marks on you anyway. Harshly, you looked back, stopping mid-tie of your combat boot to see him. He was refastening his belt silently, nearly a half yard away and you just stared at his chest, his arms, catching on his tattoo on the left bicep. You never got to kiss it, and that thought nearly killed you. The yearning was a stabbing pain in your chest. It felt like being torn apart.

You noticed the marks, he had plenty to pass him by and you felt almost guilty, at least a little.

How would he explain it all?

But another part of you, the part of you that felt compelled to bite him in the first place grinned, smirking like a Cheshire cat with all the milk in the world at her disposal. It was like you had written ‘mine, mine, mine,’ all over him in the red and blue-black bruises scattered along his abdomen, along his v line dipping into his pants. The scratches on his left thigh, and of course the fucking bite mark on his neck, carved into the perfect blue canvas there from your fangs.

But if he minded it, he didn’t say a thing.

He could heal it at base camp easily with a nice blue gel, with no scars involved. You knew he would, but wished he wouldn't.

He didn't even acknowledge it as he walked into the set-up camp an hour later with you in tow. Did not even make to explain both of your absences. He wouldn’t. He didn’t need to. They knew.

You looked more put together than the Colonel, and that was the most obvious tell of what had happened. No one was more put together than him. It was like the man was born a military man, created from strict order and perfection.

Besides that there was the fact that you reeked of each other. No one could tell which scent was who’s, or even tell who you were by scent alone anymore. Then if they somehow missed that, the ripped shirt sleeve on your left side and the missed belt loop on Quaritch’s right hip was a good clue. Along with the uneven gait from you as you walked up the hill beside him to meet them, gun slung over your shoulder.

But the best clue- the one that did them all in, it had to be the fucking bite mark.

No, the declaration of property,

plastered on the left side of their colonel’s neck.

******

bonus:

It was five hours since they landed back at base and all the recoms were playing cards in the deserted cafeteria, all eerily silent.

Lyle could feel the tension in the air ever since you and Quaritch separated like the sea when Bridgehead came into view. You go to the showers probably and Quaritch heads off to explain himself to general Ardmore, looking only slightly more presentable than yesterday.

They all wordlessly looked at each other before Lopez spoke up, the sound of the helicopter still ringing in their sensitive ears.

“So… cards, anyone?” Lopez asked. Everyone immediately agreed, a series of frantic nods and a chorus of affirmation as they all moved to the cafeteria.

They didn’t even bother changing, showering, eating, just walked to the cafeteria jostling each other, sharing tidbits from the mission in small laughs, but they never dared to speak about you. Or at least not what they were all actually thinking about in terms of you.

“Did you see the way she jumped in front of Quaritch with the-“

“-yeah. Just like old times. Stepping in front of shit, for that old goat.” Prager laughed, shaking his head roughly, disbelieving. He never understood that. He never would.

“The way the fucking thing kicked her off a cliff and she like got up, like she was fine??” Lyle exclaimed with a scoff, hands motioning in front of him wildly.

“Yeah that’s Ghost, alright.” She huffed a small laugh. “Y’know, i’ve never seen the Colonel throw himself in danger for anyone. But he cleared that fucking hill immediately after she fell.” Z-dog sounded almost awed as she finished speaking, still chewing her gum that had long since gone flavourless.

They all nodded, silence falling again. Mansk pulled a very serious face as if he was thinking hard enough to hurt before he spoke. “It’s because he never has.”

They all turned to look at him, stilling as memories washed over them. It was always Colonel and Ghost. Always. The clatter of the dining hall got so loud as they were awash in melancholy. He was right.

They took off their gear and rounded the benches, the cards came out and it was dead quiet once again, but the tension was thick. Hard to breathe. The only sound was cards shuffling, the rhythmic pop of Z-dogs gum, and Prager’s huffs whenever he lost (which was always). It was enough for Lyle to finally break after two rounds. “So we all agreed they fucked each other, right?” His voice not even close to a whisper.

“YES!” The group yelled, in unison again.

Relief went through them so fast, like a huge wave that crashed over and through them, their tired shoulders hunching forward like a weight fell off of them. And excitement rushed in to take the tension’s place.

“I knew it!-”

“I called it!” Z dog laughed, “Pay up you leeches!” Her hands spread out, cards falling to the metal table as she made a mock grab for Prager’s pockets. He only snorted, batting her away with a soft ‘fuck off, z-dog.’

They all laughed, feeling the buzz return to them, the camaraderie. “I just can’t believe it. I thought she’d never do it.” Lyle laughed, almost a sense of pride in his tone.

Lopez snorted. “Why not? He's always wanted her.” Nods all around the table.

“Yeah, they just both would never admit it.” A chorus of agreement once again, but the silence dipped into their group again. An unspoken thing still hanging over them.

“So… what changed?”

No one had an answer. They were shocked seeing you guys trudge back up that hill an hour after Quaritch told them to set up camp. After they realized you had fucked the hell out of each other. But for some reason it seemed so normal. Natural. The tension had to break at some point. Everything gives in eventually. And they had been waiting for you two to break for years. It took two lifetimes.

They didn’t want an answer. Not really. None of them would ever talk of it outside the group. They were not snitches and they cared for both of you far too much to even think of it anyways.

They just hoped you two fucking didn't make your relationship worse, or even more complicated than it was naturally.

But perhaps it already had…

*******

a.n: if you made it this far: I am impressed! I have had this idea since the first week of January and finally getting it out was great! I read it too much to like it, or tell if it’s even good lol. But lmk what you think, or if you want a pt.2 👀 cause I’m thinking about it tbhhhh

#quaritch fanfic #miles quaritch #miles x reader #miles quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #recom quaritch fic #avatar fic #avatar x reader fic #avatar James cameron #quaritch x reader smut #avatar smut #filthy #nasty #fr

593 notes · View notes