#sometimes a nice comment is enough to make my entire day

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k

Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀

A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.

P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘

P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

previous |

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.

Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.

Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.

Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.

Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.

The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.

Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.

Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.

It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.

Then you remember.

You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.

This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.

You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.

Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.

But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.

You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.

You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.

There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.

You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.

He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.

Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.

Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.

No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.

“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?

“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.

Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.

You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.

You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.

“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”

You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.

“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.

Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?

His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-

“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.

“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.

“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”

You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.

“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.

“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?

And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”

“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”

“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.

You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.

You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn���t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.

It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”

Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.

His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.

“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.

“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”

“You mean about the therapy?”

“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.

He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”

“For what?”

“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.

“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.

“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.

You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.

You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”

“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.

How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.

“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”

“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”

“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.

He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”

“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.

“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”

His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.

“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”

You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”

You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.

Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”

Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.

“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.

“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.

“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.

“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.

“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”

His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.

It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.

“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.

But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?

“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”

“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.

“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”

“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.

“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”

You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”

“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?

“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.

“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?

Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.

“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,

he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.

“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.

Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.

“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.

“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.

“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.

“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.

You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”

Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.

“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”

Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.

Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”

“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”

Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.

“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.

Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”

“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”

Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”

Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”

“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.

“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”

You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.

“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.

Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.

And you certainly delivered.

He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.

“I can’t do this-”

“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.

“-tonight.”

“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?

But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.

Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.

The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.

You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?

You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-

Can we talk?

Yes.

Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.

That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.

When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.

“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.

“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.

You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?

You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.

“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.

“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.

“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”

“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.

“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”

“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.

“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.

“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.

“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”

Joel looks at you perplexed.

“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”

“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”

“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.

“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.

“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.

“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.

“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.

“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.

“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.

“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.

“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”

“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.

Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.

You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.

“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.

You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.

It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.

You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.

How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?

Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?

Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?

You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.

You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.

You let him, because you are a weak person.

You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.

You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.

You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.

You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.

And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.

“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”

There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.

You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.

“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”

“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.

You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.

Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.

“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.

“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.

“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.

His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.

“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.

“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.

“Why didn’t you insist?”

Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.

“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t want you to.”

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”

You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.

Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.

“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”

“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”

“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”

“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”

“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”

“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?

“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”

“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.

“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”

Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.

“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”

“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”

“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.

“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.

Him.

What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.

“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.

“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.

“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”

“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.

“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”

“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”

You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.

“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”

His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.

Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.

“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”

Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”

“What?”

“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.

“Ridiculous..”

“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”

“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”

“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.

“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.

“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.

“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?

You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.

“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.

“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.

Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.

“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.

“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.

You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”

His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.

You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.

You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.

I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.

“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”

“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.

“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”

“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”

“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

previous |

Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre @leggtostandon @sarahhxx03

@zliteraturehoe @msmorningstaarr @gossipgirl-03 @vabeachazn @joeldjarin

@sofiparallel

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fandom #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller angst #infidelity joel miller #joel miller au #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel x you #joel x oc #angst fic #cheater joel miller

[tsams-confessions]

We're coming off anon with this one boys. It's long and I apologize but it's been weighing on my mind for quite some time.

There are three things people tend to know me for in this fandom. My art, my fanfics, or my thread on TSBS server. Said thread is a place where I talk about the psychological aspects of the show, as well as do character analyses and sometimes even analyze entire lore uploads for the kicks and giggles. I'm a psychology major, I also have ASPD. I made the thread so I could talk about Eclipse, who at the time I suspected had the same disorder I do and which was later confirmed less than a week after I made the thread. Since then Ruin has also been confirmed as an ASPD haver, which I personally deeply enjoy. It's fun for me to talk about my disorder and relate it to the show since ASPD is really hard to understand. 99% of people are inherently capable of empathy, and about 2% of that 98% lose that ability during childhood. So it's understandably not a very well-understood disorder. It's also a very scary and dark disorder, and I can say that honestly because I live with it. Due to this fact, it tends to be villainized in media, and I am very refreshed by the fact that TSAMS does a good job of not making their ASPD havers raving lunatics with a thirst for blood. 

Anyways, that's just background information. So far I haven't met very many weirdos about ASPD in this fandom. Almost everyone is very chill with the fact that I am a sociopath and I haven't received a ton of weird comments about it. It's a relief since I deal with a lot of open stigma and harassment irl because I refuse to pretend to be something I'm not. However, there was an instance in my thread when I was actively talking about ASPD, and a new member decided to. . . I don't even know. It was creepy and weird, and really uncomfortable. They basically told me that I'm 'too nice of a person to be a sociopath' and that they could tell that I wasn't a sociopath because they see the good in people. They also said that they were surprised that there are sociopathic people and inferred that sociopaths are pretending, whatever that means. They kept going to keep making weird and stigmatized comments about the disorder, as well as continuing to compliment me in a very unnerving way. I think about it a lot because it was very uncomfortable to be interrupted like that in the middle of talking about ASPD. There was the new mod online and participating in the conversation, but they didn't say anything to the person who was actively making me uncomfortable, even though I expressed such in the chat. 

I deal with a lot of stigma and ableism in my day-to-day life, where people tell me that I can't be a sociopath because of really stupid shit. Like the fact, I get along with people or want to help people in the medical field. Or the time-tried 'but you're a woman' comments. I don't understand why the mod kinda just left me to fend for myself and ignored the person causing issues, and while I don't hold it against them, I do have anxiety about this situation repeating itself in the future. It's not easy to talk about a disorder that the average person could not even dream of understanding, and it's even harder when people who don't know you are trying to tell you that your disorder is fake based on flimsy reasoning. It's really invalidating of the actual hellscape I had to survive to be able to even turn 18, and it rakes up my anxiety to a 10 just at the thought of it. There's not a lot of safe spaces for someone to talk about having a dark disorder, and even less for something as rare and misunderstood as ASPD. It's hard enough as it is being a high-functioning sociopath, and I just needed to rant, I suppose. Haha, could make it a "tl;dr even I get offended sometimes."

Anyway, not dropping names, but it wasn't a private matter. Nor am I upset with the mods, it's just a thing that happened that I think about a lot because it's a very rare thing for me to be offended. Glad that the majority of this fandom that I've interacted with has been willing to hear me out ASPD, but I just worry about having a repeat situation like this. It's a very sad thing to witness in this fandom that talks about inclusivity. We can't pick and choose our disorders, and where there are canon sociopaths in the show one would think the fans would try to be a little more educated on the disorder (not directed towards anyone and I appreciate the people who are willing to ask me things about it instead of making assumptions).

.

#sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #sams #tsams confession #< block this if you dont want to see these #mod 1blood #ableism cw

[silawastaken]

CRYING AND SCREAMING...

10k hits??? I'm going to actually explode

This is my second fic to get this popular, but it took months after finishing it for the blonde dazai au to get anywhere near this

Considering the soulmate au is still ongoing, this is absolutely insane

I'm so grateful to everyone who's been reading, this really did start off as a self indulgent idea that I wasn't sure I was ever going to follow through with and now I have actual friends so :D crazy what fanfic can get you huh

I don't know if this is actually as big of a deal as I'm making it, but I'm so happy and so glad that people have been liking it as much as they have

#I don't know if I've actually properly thanked people for reading yet #but thank you. #genuinely #writing is one of my favourite things to do and i don't know where I'd be without it #and im so glad that something i enjoy doing can make other people happy #I don't think i would have finished this au #at least not as quickly #if it wasn't for all the nice and supportive and encouraging comments and interactions #you all mean the world to me #even if I've never spoken to you #sometimes a nice comment is enough to make my entire day #sometimes you lot are what gets me out my bed in the morning #and I don't know where id be without that #thanks #bsd #ao3 fanfic #silas yaps #soukoku #soukoku fanfiction #bsd fanfic

[anantaru]

i haven’t stopped thinking abt wrio like,,, bodyguard wrio,,, underground fighter wrio,,, hate sex wrio,,, god help me

cw. bodyguard wriothesley, overprotective, possessive & dom, fem! reader

bodyguard wriothesley who likes to leave you staggering on the edge of a spinning insanity when he intentionally addresses you as "sweetheart", "princess" or "my lady" whenever he follows your orders, and it really doesn't matter to him where the both of you would currently be— if, lets assume, a quick shopping spree around fontaine or something more to his own liking, such as having you pushed down on a bed by your hips, parting your legs with his knee as large hands easily slide and secure around your waist.

bodyguard wriothesley who makes your mouth fall open on a hard, broken gasp when he swiftly traps you in place right under his strong frame, spurring you into immediate action by a dirty comment such as, "you're so sensitive, my lady." was in fact, a deep sort of satisfaction that gets you to ease up and forget yourself for a second, or the obvious fact that you're currently fucking your own personal bodyguard and that it might not be the best out of all your ideas, yet it still feels so fucking fine when he does it.

and archons, does he know what to do to keep you spiraling into euphoric bliss.

bodyguard wriothesley who adores whenever you tumble over your little, pathetic mewls when he pushes his fat tip inside of you for the very first time this night, and he notices how you're tightening up a bit when he adds another inch and spits on your cunt to have you all wet and nice, deep drags penetrating your most delicious spots while you're still loose enough that wriothesley can rub over your pulsating walls splendidly, tasting the soft clench of a warm, sore pussy on his throbbing girth.

bodyguard wriothesley who hooks up a smile at you, pearly whites grabbing your attention, admiring just how unbelievably cute you were— his boss, his princess and he could spend his entire day fucking you just the way you wanted it, with his dripping dick shafting through your pussy, manhandling you while plunging his lips against your tits to attach his hungry mouth to your nipples.

and how good you were, ah what a sight, able to swallow his cock, despite its size, working your sopping insides into the vast shape of his length so you're all marked up for him, because do keep in mind for a second— he was the one protecting you, and he would lie to himself if he'd say he couldn't become a little too possessive every now and then, while watching out that no one would bother you, no guy talk to you and wriothesley loved taking care of your needs, in many more ways than an outside person would assume— whilst all the others who even dared to look your precious, enticing way?

they aren't even half as tall as him, half as strong as him or most importantly, half as good in bed as him— the man was confident that no other was able to make you scream and enjoy yourself just the way he did.

and you were aware of that, sometimes cursing yourself as to why you let it go on for so long and be that unprofessional— but then he's here to quickly make you regret nothing at all— with your mind hanging in the clouds, still blank and the loud blows of gluttonous moans and your sexes bumping against each other, that you'd never ever feel more protected by any other individual, only him, your hands swiftly finding flaming solace in his soft locks when you hide yourself in his warm neck, pressing frenzied smooches around his defined shoulder as wriothesley groans out deep, "fuck— princess!", sensing how you're about to lose yourself to a high.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut

[so-starz]

˗ˏˋ⭒ things that make their heart flutter ⭒´ˎ˗

genre ? fluff reactions/headcanons , cw ? mentions of insecurities

bf!riize x gn!reader

⋆ note: first post! check pinned :3 might do little drabbles on some of these

将太郎⭒SHOTARO

[initiating hugs]

☆ shotaro’s love language is definitely physical touch

☆ so when you hug him from behind to surprise him

☆ or pull him into your arms in bed

☆ or bury your face in his chest as you squeeze him

☆ he feels like his life is complete

☆ adores when you run and jump into his arms after a long day

☆ just the feeling of being in your hold is enough for him

☆ he always makes sure to hug you back 10x tighter too

☆ (and no, he is never letting you go now)

은석⭒EUNSEOK

[dressing up for him]

☆ he thinks you always look pretty, no matter what you wear

☆ but when you dress up really nicely for dates, or to show off some new clothes you bought

☆ oh my god he loves it

☆ makes sure to compliment you every 3 seconds

☆ “you look beautiful”

☆ “that sweater looks so nice on you”

☆ fixes your jacket for you, smooths out your skirt

☆ silently admiring you the entire time

☆ you are his angel and he can’t believe he was lucky enough to be chosen by you

성찬⭒SUNGCHAN

[public skinship]

☆ sungchan loves to make sure everyone knows that he is yours and you are his

☆ like Yes you are taken and Yes he will bark at anyone who dares to think otherwise

☆ he always has a hand on your back, an arm wrapped around your waist or over your shoulders, etc

☆ but when you do it to him? he literally does a happy dance on the inside

☆ when you grab his hand and lace your fingers together

☆ or link your arm with his

☆ or hug his middle while waiting in line

☆ you are his Baby okay

☆ he thinks its so cute when you show him off to others

☆ it always puts the biggest smile on his face

원빈⭒WONBIN

[praise/compliments]

☆ you always have a knack for telling when wonbin gets in his head

☆ when his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, or when he’s even quieter than usual

☆ so you make sure to shower him in compliments and praise whenever you can

☆ telling him how hard he’s working and how good he is at what he does

☆ commenting on how pretty his eyes are, or how you like his new shirt

☆ you can see the stress leave his body when you praise him

☆ sometimes your reassurance is all he needs

☆ especially when he’s feeling insecure, he immediately searches for comfort in you

☆ because you always know just what to say

승한⭒SEUNGHAN

[random kisses]

☆ there’s nothing seunghan loves more than when you kiss him

☆ he’ll just be scrolling on his phone and you stop to kiss him on the forehead before going about your day

☆ or you could be in the middle of a conversation and then you randomly peck him on the lips

☆ it makes him smile so hard

☆ he could be having the worst day ever, but at least he knows he’ll be able to get a kiss from you later

☆ please cup his face kiss his cheeks when you see him

☆ if you kiss his neck while cuddling, he’ll literally melt in your arms

소희⭒SOHEE

[whispering in his ear]

☆ cuddles with sohee is a mandatory step in your nighttime routine

☆ and the atmosphere is always so soft and peaceful

☆ you always whisper an “i love you” into his ear

☆ or if you’re quietly talking about your day in your soft sleepy voice

☆ and he kind of dies inside everytime

☆ like his heart actually stops in his chest

☆ your voice is so beautiful to him, and when you whisper??? even better

☆ you make him feel so safe and he loves how vulnerable you can be around him

찬영⭒ANTON

[playing with his hair]

☆ it’s a subconscious habit you have, to mess with his hair, or twirl strands around your fingers

☆ and he falls for you all over again every time you do it

☆ when his hair falls into his eyes in the middle of a conversation and you reach up to brush his fringe to aside

☆ and if you make eye contact at the same time? 

☆ anton.exe has stopped working

☆ he stutters in the middle of his sentence

☆ you always make him so nervous

☆ you can see him trying not to smile when you begin to play with his hair if his head is in your lap

☆ he's so soft for you, it's crazy

MASTERLIST

reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated!

©️SO-STARZ

#so-starz #so-starz (reactions) #riize #riize imagines #riize headcanons #riize scenarios #riize reactions #riize fluff #riize x reader #shotaro #eunseok #sungchan #wonbin #seunghan #sohee #anton #shotaro fluff #eunseok fluff #sungchan fluff #wonbin fluff #seunghan fluff #sohee fluff #anton fluff #shotaro imagines #eunseok imagines #sungchan imagines #wonbin imagines #seunghan imagines #sohee imagines #anton imagines

[angelicdanvers]

BRACELETS | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: y/n finds herself a friend to celebrate her special day with. takes place before the lightning thief. luke & y/n are the same age. wc: 1.9k key: n/n = nickname

taglist: @repostingmyfavs @rinisfruity14 @soobin-chois | pm or comment to be added <3

a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate!! this goes out to all my loves who just wish for one person to embrace them and spread happiness <3

sixteen.

it was finally y/n’s sixteenth birthday, and once again, not a single person to celebrate with. being a child of demeter was sweet, everyone was kind all around, but y/n simply couldn’t find her people.

she got along with everyone, no one had anything against her. sure, older kids would pick on her from time to time, but that was an automatic agreement she signed when joining camp two years ago.

she just couldn’t develop as strong of a bond with anyone. she’d sometimes fall asleep with silent tears, wondering if she was broken or missing something key. if everyone was nice, why couldn’t she trust? form a relation?

the night wielded a nice breeze, wafting through y/n’s locks as she sat by the strawberry fields, playing with the leaves. a slight glow emitted from her fingertips as she trailed them along the soil, a small smile on her lips. 

glancing towards the amphitheater, she could see those her age dancing and singing, having the time of their lives. the younger kids had dispersed due to curfew, she noted. 

they all seemed to be in glee.

snapping her eyes shut, she fought back the intrusive thoughts and inhaled a sharp breath. opening her eyes, y/n grabbed some of the soil, stacking it into three layers. grabbing a strawberry, she delicately placed it atop and pulled away to admire her makeshift cake.

“happy birthday, n/n — happy sweet sixteenth,” she said loud enough just for her to hear. looking up at the glimmering stars, y/n decided to make a wish.

all i wish for is belonging. true belonging.

y/n went back to her cake, grabbing the strawberry and picking herself up from the ground. dusting herself off, she took her water bottle and gently rinsed the strawberry. placing it between her teeth and softly biting into it, she savoured the taste as she walked down towards the amphitheater and then the cabins.

she felt stupid for not wearing a proper jacket or shirt, but she did enjoy the fresh air leaving a chill to her skin. y/n was hoping her black tee would blend her into the night, especially as she neared the amphitheater. she wasn’t entirely keen on interacting more at the moment — it was past twelve and she knew she couldn’t match their energy.

“hey, y/n?”

the girl halted in her tracks. turning on her heel, she came face to face with none other than the loveable hermes boy lightly jogging up to her.

“hi luke,” she greeted, passing him a small smile. 

luke smiled back immediately. after a silent beat, he spoke again. “i just wanted to say, ha —“

“hey, luke! get over here, man, we need your backup vocals right now!” one of the hermes kids yelled, y/n couldn’t tell who from their distance.

“yeah, give me a sec!” he screamed, turning back to the girl.

“no dude, we need you RIGHT NOW! we’re gonna be mashed potatoes if you don’t!”

luke rolled his eyes, positioning himself back towards the theatre. “can’t you see i’m busy?”

“you can talk to anyone about anything whenever, luke! this is a one time exclusive!”

“stop quoting missy elliot, and no, give me two minutes!” he replied, a slight whine in his voice.

a scoff followed, “we’re gonna be eliminated, castellan!”

exasperated by bickering with his brothers, luke sighed and nodded. “i’ll be right there!” 

the boy instantly spun back around, wanting to wish the demeter girl a happy birthday.

she was at least 30 feet ahead of him, speed walking away with a slight slump to her shoulders.

luke’s smile dropped. another day, another day of being unable to fully attend to her. these countless moments have occurred more than he could fathom — he was always pulled away from the one girl he didn’t want to be pulled away from.

and yet here she was, disappearing out of his sight once again. “this karaoke better be worth it,” he grumbled under his breath as he trudged back.

the next morning was calm, not many campers up to anything special. there was a soft pitter patter on the window panes, but y/n didn’t mind. the rain rejuvenated her.

throwing on her raincoat but paying no mind to her shorts or shoes, y/n left the cabin with her stash of bracelet material in her pocket and sprinted through the paths, heading to chiron and mr. d.

luke’s attention immediately perked up at the bolting girl, and he realized this might just be the one time he can say anything.

subtly running after her, he watched as she entered the big house and rather excitedly. he followed inside, keeping a distance when he heard her begin to speak to chiron.

he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he did hear it all.

“may i call my dad?”

“of course, y/n. here,” luke could hear the shuffle of a phone, and footsteps coming closer to the edge of chiron’s office. 

the dial tone was evident. it went through three times before he heard the young girl speak.

“hey dad. hope you’re doing good. should've known you weren't gonna pick up. i turned sixteen today, fyi. hope your kids are doing fine and same with that blonde bimbo,” she spat, making luke’s eyes widen. “i’m not coming home for christmas. might be early to determine but i’m sure i won’t. bye.”

she walked back to chiron, and luke could hear light sniffles coming from her. his heart sank. 

“for all it matters, i’m here, we all are. happy birthday, y/n. you’ve always made us proud, you’ve always been an asset to us, you deserve to know that no matter what,” chiron reassured, and luke could hear the girl softly thank him.

stepping outside of chiron’s office and shutting the door behind her, y/n broke into a sob in the hallway. it was one thing to have others not be around, but when family abandons, nothing feels real anymore. 

luke observed as she stopped her tears almost as quick as they started, wiping her eyes as she headed towards him, unbeknownst to her.

“uh,” luke cleared his throat, “hey, y/n.”

y/n’s face warmed up, startled at his presence. hurriedly fixing herself up, she nodded. “hi luke.”

“i’m sorry for last night,” he apologized, scratching the nape of his neck. “i was trying to talk to you but i guess i got carried away with everyone else,” he paused, looking down, “as usual. i’m sorry.”

y/n shook her head. “it’s okay. don’t apologize, life happens.”

“right,” luke acknowledged awkwardly. “speaking of life,” he approached her in a friendly manner, “i wanted to wish you a happy birthday last night. you’re sixteen, one of the biggest milestones in anyone’s life!”

his enthusiasm made the corners of y/n’s lips tug up, and she watched intently as he continued. “you deserve an amazing birthday, and i’m going to give that to you.”

y/n was not expecting that.

“c’mon, let’s go.” luke held his hand out to her, his dark curls practically bouncing in excitement. a sweet grin crept onto her face, making the young boy smile even wider. she accepted his hand, and the second he felt her palm within his, the fragility made him realize he could never be a part of something that’d hurt her ever again.

she was stronger than anyone he knew, enduring all the shit the world put upon her. he just knew he couldn’t be one of them to do the same. 

together, the two gracefully left the big house, trampling down to camp and rushing towards god knows where.

somehow, they ended up at the pavilions, and without a second thought, y/n pulled out her bracelet material. luke was confused but watched eagerly as she carefully took the little sacks out.

“wanna make some friendship bracelets?”

“friendship bracelets?” luke asked, unsure of the concept.

y/n nodded. “today’s the day someone willingly decided to hang out with me. i was going to make some alone but if you want, we can create matching ones and mark our friendship.”

luke grinned toothily, “so we’re friends now?”

y/n nodded, “i’d love to be, if you don’t mind.”

his eyes screamed happiness, “i definitely don’t mind.”

the two taped down their threads, choosing colours that work cohesively with one another’s. “now you’re gonna wanna take this thread and do a tuck-knot with it,” y/n explained, showing the boy to her left the steps.

after getting the basics down, the two fell into a comfortable silence, threading away and adding some cute hand-made clay beads here and there. “i’m not too childish for wanting to do this, right?” y/n suddenly asked, a nervous smile on her face.

luke shook his head and gave her a hearty grin. “i don’t think there should ever be such thing as “too childish”, sucks the life out of everyone,” he looked back down at the bracelet, “plus, when you’re a demigod, what else is there to do? play video games? we’d be dead in minutes.”

y/n laughed. luke froze.

he’d never heard her laugh this much. she sounded pretty.

“you’re not wrong,” she slowly caught her breathing and softly chuckled. “are you close to finishing your’s?”

the hermes boy nodded and watched intently as y/n’s delicate fingers tutored him on how to securely tie the ends of the bracelet. watching her move so effortlessly made his heart skip a beat — she was perfect.

even though this was the smallest activity they could ever do, she was perfect at it. it made him wonder why he didn’t seize the opportunity to be her friend beforehand.

“hey, y/n?”

“yes, luke?”

“i just wanted to say,” his breath lightly hitched when she began placing the bracelet on his wrist to make sure it was of right measurement, “that, uh, you’re really pretty.”

now it was y/n’s turn to freeze.

“but, i’m not doing all of this to just be your boyfriend or whatever. hell, we’ve just begun our friendship,” he stifled a small, sweet laugh, “so when i say this i really just mean it from the bottom of my heart. i don’t want it to influence you in any way, i just want you to know how i’ve seen you for the past two years.

“you’re gentle and loving, not to mention stealthy and incredibly intelligent. i love whenever i look over and you’re always doing something that captivates me. i’ve been an idiot to admire you from afar for this long, but you’ve always deserved to know and be appreciated. i’m sorry i couldn’t give that to you sooner.”

y/n looked into luke’s eyes, somber traversing in her’s. “may i hug you?”

luke nodded, and y/n wrapped him up in her arms. the boy held tightly onto her, a sudden thought of losing her intruding his mind of peace. “happy birthday, y/n,” he whispered into her ear as they continued to embrace.

“thank you, luke. this means the world to me.”

luke now knew he had to give her the world, no matter what.

their matching bracelets would only be a reminder of what there was, what there will be and what will be gone.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #charlie bushnell #luke castellan oneshot #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjotv #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #pjo x you #charlie bushnell x reader

[covetyou]

the dark caress of someone else

part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Tess Servopoulos rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con, threesome (mff), oral (f and m receiving), bi reader, unprotected P in V, creampie, praise kink, spit kink, derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap, one singular queef (I'm not sorry), one face slap (with a dick)word count: 6.2k chapter summary: After a little white lie, you go to pick up your dads medication, only to be met by an angry Joel and a (not so) surprise visitor.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love for this silly little series. I appreciate your amazing comments so much, and I don't quite know what to do with myself.

Piggy in the middle is fuckin difficult man. But I guess life imitates art and sometimes there do just be too many holes, hands and other body parts to keep track of. Also pls excuse me but I'm, like, really bi. And Anna Torv's Tess has my whole entire pussy heart.

this part is dedicated to 'The Sweaty Javi' and 'The Hillbilly Duck Hunter' (courtesy of the wonderful @morallyinept). thank you for your services. (pls drink responsibly)

also a shout out to slasher!joel's big ol' balls (spawned by @toxicanonymity) they've been on my mind literally all week and you would not believe the ball content I had to cut from this. only a smidgen of balls remain, but the balls are there in spirit. thanks for the ballspo bb.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

song: someone new by Hozier dividers: @saradika

Your dad shook as he threw back his last pill, swallowing dry before chasing it down with a sip of water. He'd been making weak comments about needing to get more all week and you'd always stopped him. You didn't want him to go. You wanted to go.

You both knew that the pushback was all for show, but now a little white lie meant the show was over, for him at least.

"Joel doesn't want you coming to get your pills yourself anymore," you'd told him. It was a barefaced lie, but felt better than telling him the truth. How, exactly, do you tell your dad you're whoring yourself to his drug dealer?

You were fairly certain your dad knew what kind of man Joel Miller was. A Nice Man to some, maybe, but his reputation preceded him. He was known for helping out people when they got into tricky spots. Not all the time, of course, but when you had something he took a fancying to, he'd be more than willing to come to an agreement. Maybe your dad already knew what you were doing for him, for you. Maybe he noticed you had more ration cards these days, a spring in your step. You wondered if he cared, if he'd ever try to stop you.

You make your way to the nicer part of the QZ again the next day. You have a free shift and, despite your dad's protests that you should go spend it with friends, you find yourself climbing chipped steps to an empty hallway once more.

You had left the last time with the slick of oil between your cheeks, down your legs, between your thighs. It had taken days to wash off completely. You didn't mind one bit - whenever you moved the slick of it reminding you of him buried in you to the hilt, fucking you half to death in a way you'd never imagined. Embarrassment, shame, you shouldn't like this, melding together and melting away as he pummelled into you from behind. You'd practically rubbed yourself raw thinking about it, but it was never quite enough.

Uncontrollable excitement thrums through you as you approach his door. And, well, you should have known.

Each time you turn up to Joel Miller's door thinking you know what to expect, and each time you're wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. It seems this time is no different.

You hear it before you even get to the door. Raised voices - a man shouting, a girl crying. You hear muffled snippets of the argument - "fuckin' daddy" here, "you're an asshole" there. You don't want to leave, but the sound of it makes you nervous. The unexpected usually hit when you were already trapped inside Joel's apartment, not when you were waiting in the corridor for the door to open.

You decide to turn and leave, you can come back later or another day, your dad can wait. You can wait. But then the door is opening and a topless brunette is rushing out into the hallway, nearly knocking into you in the process. Tears are streaming down her face as she shoves her arms into her t-shirt, hurrying away muttering "asshole" under her breath.

You watch as she leaves, turning your head back to the open door only when you see movement out the corner of your eye.

You'd never seen him like this. White fury burned behind his eyes as he came to slam the door in the girl's wake. He sees you and halts, fingers gripping the wood so tight you think it might splinter.

"Where's your daddy," he snarls at you.

"At home, in bed. He needs-"

"I know what he fuckin' needs. Get in."

He stalks away from the door, leaving it wide open for you to enter. You follow him in. You'd been trapped in here with him before, but it never felt like this. The fear you had before was because of the unknown, the new - he was a strange man in a strange place. Now he was a man you somewhat knew and trusted, yet in this moment you feared him. You were suddenly keenly aware that he could hurt you, really actually hurt you, if he wanted to.

A cupboard door clanks shut, making you jump, then his imposing figure is stomping back over to you. Grabbing your hand, he wretches it open, pushes a pill packet into your palm, and closes it into a fist around the plastic.

"You can see yourself out," he growls before walking away from you, leaving you standing there, confused.

You frown as you look between the pills he'd just given you and him. "But -"

"But fuckin' what," he yells, turning on you. "I gave you what you want, now go."

You're a fucking idiot, poking the already angry bear, but you step forward anyway. "That's not what I want."

He scoffs at you, hands on hips, shaking his head in disbelief. You felt small just because of the size of him usually, but now he was making you feel small in other ways.

"Use me."

"Use you? You want me to use you?"

You shrug your shoulders. "That's what this is, right? You give me what I want, and I give you what you want." He'd said it himself last time, and now here you were using his own words against him.

"And you think using you is what I want?"

You look him straight in the eye, balls bigger than the universe and say, "Yes."

Angry feet drag him to you, toes stopping barely an inch away from your own. He stares down at you, challenging you to look away, but you crane your neck and keep your eyes locked with his.

When he brings one massive hand gently to your neck, holding your gaze, you try not to flinch. Joel notices, fiery gaze briefly softening, he doesn't want you to be scared of him, and allows the cradle of his hand to push against your throat. You feel your pulse thunder beneath his palm just before the pressure releases.

"You got one last hole I ain't tried yet," he murmurs, dragging the rough pad of his thumb up your jaw and across the swell of your bottom lip. You fight not to kiss it, to take it into your mouth and show him how useful you can be.

The hand drags down your body, fingertips pulling at the neckline of your shirt, before he reaches its hem. You think he's going to put a hand up it, feel your bare skin underneath. Instead he bunches the fabric taught against your chest in one fist, yanking you even closer to him, his fist keeping you from falling flush against his torso.

"Take this off," his breath whispers across your face.

Grip loosening on your shirt, you try not to stumble back as you pull your shirt over your head, cheeks heating when you briefly get it caught on your chin. You weren't wearing a bra today, but if he notices he doesn't react.

Fingers tug at your belt loops. "And these."

You unbutton your pants, pulling them down your legs and off your body, taking your shoes with them. You try not to think about if the other girl was this dressed when Joel decided to kick her out.

Joel kicks your clothes away from you, you watch them skid across the floor, pill packet clattering along with them, before turning back, the fire in his eyes back and all softness forgotten.

"On your fuckin' knees."

You thud to your knees and look up at him. He takes a step back, as if he suddenly doesn't trust himself to be close to you. The thought of him actually hurting you crosses your mind again - you wonder if that'd turn you on the same as the other things he does, the things he does to hurt but make you feel good too. Maybe it would. Maybe if he really wanted to you'd let him.

His eyes rake down your body, taking in your bare tits, nipples hardened under the chill of the room, down the swell of your stomach, across the meat of your thighs and to the dampness forming on the front of your panties.

"Want me to use you, huh?" he says, nostrils flaring as his hands flex beside him.

Your eyes flick to his crotch. You'd only been this close to him in your fantasies, but you find you're salivating just as much as you do in your dreams, aching to run your hands across him and really, finally, feel him.

As if reading your mind, his hand caresses across the front of his pants. Where there had been nothing but the soft shape of him before was a growing tent as he hardened before you. "You want this?"

You nod.

He threads a hand through your hair, scratching at your scalp and cradling your head in his palm. He forces your head back further, until you're looking directly up at him.

"You're gonna have to ask nicely for it, sweetheart."

"Please can I have it," you beg, sounding as needy as you feel. You've never needed anything more than you need this. You know he can see it in your face, in the way you lick your lips as you take him in.

He yanks his pants down in an instant, cock bouncing from their confines. He grabs it in his fist, large hand stroking gently up his length to tug at his tip as he grows. It looks huge in his hand, but you know it'd look so much bigger in yours.

You look up at him wide eyed as you watch him stroke himself. A few strokes and he's solid already. For all you've done with him, for how you've had him inside you, you've never seen it this close. Never seen how veins ripple under skin, foreskin moves back with the movement of his hand to reveal his flushed tip, slit beckoning you to taste.

"Please can I have your co- "

The hard length of him collides harshly with the side of your face. Your lips part in a gasp. You stop yourself from chasing it and engulfing it with your mouth. He hasn't said you could, and you're not stepping a toe out of line. He needs you to be good.

"You really want it?" he teases.

You nod frantically. You must look dumb, like one of those nodding dog ornaments from years ago - glassy eyed and head bobbing at just about anything.

"Kiss it." You do, hesitantly placing a gentle kiss to one side of his tip, then the other, before placing an even softer kiss to his slit. There's a thrill knowing you'd never kissed any part of him before, knowing that the first time you'd pressed your lips to him it was to his cock. If anyone ever found out maybe you'd be embarrassed, but here, in this room, all you wanted was more.

Swallowing heavily and lifting his shaft, he pulls your head closer to him. "Kiss 'em. They wanna feel good too, sweetheart."

You place more soft kisses across the delicate skin of his balls, pushing down the temptation to taste him. Your eyes never leave his face, and his never leave yours. He looks so horny he could smash you through a fucking wall, and you don't think you'd mind if he did.

You keep kissing until he pulls your head back. He's started gently stroking himself again, getting himself off as he watched you worship his balls.

"You wanna taste?"

"I wanna taste," you swallow, sinking down as you spread your knees wide to stop the temptation of rubbing your thighs together, desperate for relief he hasn't said you can have.

"Show me how much you want it."

You snap your jaw open for him, eager to taste more than the swipe of cum he'd spread over your lips weeks ago, as he fists his cock gently over your face. He's teasing you with it still when a whine catches in your throat.

Another tug to your hair tilts your head back, but your eyes strain down to look at the bead of cum that's about to drip from the tip of him. He leans over you, cock in hand and your head held in the other. You watch as he spits down into your mouth, saliva cooling as it falls from his mouth to yours, landing cold on your waiting tongue.

"Good girl. So desperate for it. Keep it open." He moves his dripping tip to your mouth before you can react, swiping it across your tongue, mixing his precum with your, and his, saliva.

You hear it before he does - the sound of a key jingling and a lock turning. It startles you, fright springing across your face as he frowns down at you. You keep your mouth open as the door swings open behind you, exposing your naked body to the hallway and whoever has just entered.

"You home, old man?" a familiar voice you can't place calls out, before the very same voice lets out a low whistle when it catches sight of you.

The door is kicked shut, and there's a thud on the table. Joel is still brandishing his cock as he stares daggers over your head at the intruder. Your fucking mouth is open.

"You mind? I'm busy," he says, wiping the tip of his cock over your tongue again. You salivate at the salty taste of him and try to swallow.

Light footsteps head toward where you kneel on the floor before Joel, knees spread, head up, eyes darting between his face and his grip on his cock.

"Well then, hello there pretty girl." You remember that voice.

Finally letting your eyes flick to the side, you see her. Tess. She seems to recognize you at the same time as you do, a smile pulling across her face as your mouth falls slack in shock.

She'd been your fathers dealer before you were handed off one day to a new one. Your dad hadn't given details on why, but you had a feeling you knew. She'd helped you once too, when a few too many sick days had meant too few cards to get by. That had been your first time on your knees for someone at the promise of pills, and at the time you thought it would be your last.

Joel watches as she approaches and looks down at you on your knees. His hand hasn't left his cock, and he's tugging on himself as he watches, another bead of precum you desperately want to lick collecting at his head. He moves his hand from its place in your hair and starts stroking his heavy balls with it as he watches you.

"How's your daddy?" she pouts in mock empathy before addressing Joel, laughing.

"Gotta say, didn't expect this when I handed 'em off to you. Told you the daughter's mouth was good, didn't I?"

"I wouldn't know, I was only just about to find out," he grits out. His hands are still slowly working over himself as he talks to her. You watch as his eyes roam up and down her body, then flick to you down at his feet. Your body heats as you watch him ogle her - you think it may be jealousy until your own eyes trail the same path down her body before resting back on Joel. What difference is there between jealousy and desire, really.

"The first time you get to mess with one, and I get to witness it? Lucky me," she grins as she watches Joel thread a hand back through your hair, drawing your attention back to him completely.

"S'not the first time," he whispers as he pulls you forward, nodding at you to open your mouth once more.

"Then what the fuck have you been doing with her?"

Joel rolls his eyes at her, instead opting to feed the head of his cock into your mouth.

Your mouth engulfs his tip, warm and wet, he sucks in a breath closing his eyes, grip tightening in your hair. You let your tongue swirl around him, feeling the ridge of his head and tasting the bitter sweet salt of his cum on his skin. Your fingers curl into the rough fabric of his pants, anchoring you to him as you bob your head over his tip, circling your tongue over every inch of it.

"Oh fuck, that's right," he moans. "That taste good?"

He looks down as you nod, your moan of confirmation around his cock pulling another groan from his chest as his eyes fall closed again.

"Fuck yeah, it does."

Tess had all but gone from your mind until you hear the tap of shoes on the floor, and feel as she crouches beside you. A soft hand comes to your face, stroking the hollow of your cheek as you suck more of Joel's cock into your mouth.

You feel soft lips press a kiss to that very same hollow, the feeling of being kissed making you sigh. His eyes snap open, he'd been so lost in the feeling of your mouth on him that he hadn't noticed Tess's approach either. Now he was looking down at two women at his feet, eyes burning holes into yours where they fluttered in your head.

She begins nuzzling your hair, your neck, placing soft kisses across your bare skin. You keep your focus on Joel, staring at him with the same intensity he stares at you. Soft hands start to roam up and down your body, squeezing your chest, pinching your nipples, dragging short nails across your stomach, her every move making you shudder.

"Can't say I ever imagined a sweet little thing like you doing this," she whispers into your ear. You can hear the sickly sweet smile in her voice.

You moan into Joel's cock as she touches you, taking yet more of him into your mouth. You want to touch it, hold the heft of it in your hand, but you never have before. You don't know if you're allowed. You inch your hand up his pants to his crotch, stroking the exposed skin at the base of him with your fingertips. The hand in your hair twitches, and you hear a strangled moan from above you.

"Fuuck."

Another shift of your hand and your hand wraps around his thick base, fingertips unable to meet even if you squeezed. Holding him steady, you can finally angle him down so you can draw more of his cock into your mouth. You flick your tongue along his tip again as you swallow around him with a moan.

"That's it. Show me how much you can take."

At the instruction, Tess knocks his hand away from your hair, bringing both of her own to hold either side of your head. She fucks your mouth up and down his length, Joel moaning deep as his hand finds yours on his pants and grips your fingers tightly.

You'd been longing to feel his lips on yours so much that you'd never considered what his hand might feel like on yours. It's the opposite of electric - the heavy heat of his rough hand grounding you, finally, as you take him in in full clarity.

"Shit that's good," he sighs as you're dragged along him by Tess's hands.

"You hear that? He thinks you're doing a good job," Tess says from beside you, pushing your head down to take more of him with a kiss to your cheek.

You start to gag as she pushes you down - it had been so long since you'd done this, and Joel's size wasn't exactly forgiving to the less experienced - but you carry on, moaning again when the welcome distraction of Tess's body pushes against yours.

"Nothin' but a cocksucking slut, huh?" Joel murmurs down to you almost affectionately, moving a stray hair from across your face. Yes you want to say, but it comes out a garbled mess as Tess laughs at you once again.

With another firm push of your head, your mouth slips down and takes Joel even further to the back of your throat. You cough and splutter, trying to push yourself back using your hand against Joel's thick thighs, but Tess holds you down with his cock buried in your throat. Joel's hand grips yours tighter still.

"Don't," he snarls. "If I wanted her chokin' on it I'd fuck her face."

"Maybe I want her to choke on it," Tess counters from beside you with another laugh, but she relents anyway.

You pull back with a gasp and take a gulp of air before kissing the tip of his cock. You don't want to let go of it for a minute. You lick long stripes up his length, collecting the strings of saliva you'd left behind, before encasing him in your mouth once more. If you were anywhere else you'd maybe feel shame at your need for him, and your need to please him, but the heat of their eyes burning into you does nothing but light a fire between your legs.

Tess sees it, moving a hand down from bobbing your head on Joel's cock, down your bare torso and cupping your clothed pussy. Her slender fingers feel so much more delicate compared to Joel's thick calloused ones as they rub over you, your moans muffled by the fullness of the cock in your mouth.

"She's so wet, Joel," you hear her say through Joel's groan and the blood rushing in your ears.

Your hips start to rock into Tess's hand of their own accord, aching to find more friction and finally get some relief. She yanks your panties to the side, using one of her fingers to trace the seam of you before gently tickling your clit. If she could only feel how damp you were before, she could definitely feel the drip of slick from your cunt now.

Slender fingers plunge into you, fucking your desperate hole with force as you work your mouth over Joel's cock. You're left empty for half a second before her fingers are back in you, more this time, stretching you further so suddenly that your legs widen to accommodate the pull of fingers inside you.

"All four fingers, good girl," Tess coos.

"Four?" grunts Joel. Tess nods, laughing, and Joel throws his head back with a groan.

"I bet we could fit a whole hand up here," she says with another kiss to your cheek.

You were naive before to think she wouldn't, couldn't, hurt you the way you thought Joel could. You were wrong, you realized now, as her fingers plunged into you, stretching wide, words taunting in your ear as she forced your head back and forth over Joel's cock.

Her fingers leave your cunt entirely, leaving you empty and gaping. She pulls you off of Joel, replacing his cock in your mouth with her glistening fingers. You clean your own slick from them, moaning at the tang of your own pussy mixing with the flavor of Joel still on your tongue. His eyes never leave you and his hand never gives up its grip on yours.

"You like the taste of pussy, don't you?" Tess whispers in your ear, pushing you back onto Joel.

"Mhm."

"I think we can do something about that," she murmurs. "Can't we Joel." You both look up at him from your knees. He growls, nodding stiffly.

You're being hauled to your feet and pushed to the couch before you know what's going on. The blood rushes to your head and the room spins when you're pushed roughly over the arm, watching as Tess unbuttons her pants and pulls them down her legs.

She lounges back on the other arm of the sofa, spreading her legs and beckoning you to come between them. You ignore the ache in your knees from the hard wood of the floorboards as you crawl over, settling between her soft thighs and looking up at her with parted mouth. You would do anything right now, desperate for any relief from anyone.

Joel has followed behind, watching your ass sway as you crawled to her. Your panties are still skewed to the side, and you know he's looking at the mess of arousal between your legs. Tess may have been the one with her fingers buried in you, but you hope he knows he's just as responsible for your glistening cunt.

"C'mon," he growls, landing a swat to your ass. "Lemme see you eat that pussy."

You stare at Tess's bare cunt, feeling needy in ways you can't even explain, and move to lower your head, eager to taste her again.

She grabs you by the hair before your mouth can touch her.

"No teasing now. You remember what I told you?" You nod. You remembered every fucking part - exactly how she liked to come undone. Sometimes you imagined her doing the same to you.

She pulls your face down toward her cunt, and you stick out your tongue, hungry to taste her. You lick her gently at first, small licks across the swelling of her clit and her flushed lips. You lick further down, parting her folds to taste at her entrance - for all her laughing and teasing, her pussy was as much of a traitor as yours when exposed like this. She was dripping.

Joel's rough hands pull your ass toward him, dragging your panties down to your knees, hobbling you. The couch dips and creaks behind you as he brings a foot up to better line up with your hole. The wetness of his cock slides through your slick folds once, twice, then notches the tip at your entrance before he pushes in in one, sheathing himself completely in the heat of your body. You moan and gasp around Tess's clit, never stopping the movement of your tongue.

"Not sure she can handle it," she half chuckles, half moans.

"She can," grits out Joel. "S'taken worse." He slides out and punches all the way back in again, the feeling of his hips snapping against your ass so much less overwhelming when his cock was in your pussy and not your ass. You try desperately to keep up the movements of your mouth, wanting to feel Tess come undone at your hands, but blocking out Joel entirely is impossible with the distracting pound of his cock into you.

Tess grabs more of your hair, pulling it away from your neck and giving him a better view of you and her cunt.

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart," he groans now that he can see more clearly. "Lick that pussy."

"Been a while since you had multiple girls over, huh?" Tess taunts, throwing her head back before Joel can reply.

He nods, pulling your hips back into his as he thrusts forward. "Too fuckin' long." He groans again, meaty hands gripping your ass cheeks hard and pulling you apart at the seams as he pounds into you.

You slip a finger into her wet heat, curling it upwards as you feel inside of her. She's as slick as you, and you wonder if she's ever taken Joel as you have. The thought makes you moan again, just as Joel picks up the pace of his thrusts, slamming into you so hard your mouth jerks over Tess's cunt.

You try to steady yourself, fluttering your tongue flutters over Tess's clit, circling and suckling it into your mouth. You ignore the sensation building inside you as Joel's balls smack against your neglected clit each time he buries himself in you. It's too many feelings, too many sensations all at once.

Joel's hips stutter as he slams his cock into you, chasing his own release, already so close after you'd had him in your mouth for so long. Even closer from watching Tess tease you with her fingers buried in your needy cunt, watching your tongue lathe over hers.

You hear a strangled "Fuck" before he slams his hips forward again, slick cock slipping deep inside you as he floods your pussy with warm, wet cum. You moan into Tess's clit as you feel yourself heat from the inside out.

"Shit. Shit," he sighs from behind you. You want to turn to look at the fucked out look on his face. You nearly do.

"Don't stop, almost there," pants Tess, almost begging you with your face still buried in her wet heat, lapping at her clit with a finger curled inside her. "Pretty girl, almost there," she croons, stroking your hair and rocking into your face.

Gentle circles on her clit turn firmer, more rapid, and the hand in your hair grips you tighter as you pull her release from her. She grinds against your face, pussy throbbing as you lick her pulsing clit through her orgasm.

That same hand yanks you back a moment later, too sensitive to continue, before she relaxes back into the couch with a sigh.

"She's good, Joel," she breathes, a hand idly stroking your hair. You hear Joel grunt in agreement from behind you, his hands still holding onto your ass, and your cheeks heat with the praise.

He moves away, pulling his cock from where it had softened inside you, watching as a small trickle of cum escapes to drip down to your neglected clit.

"Looks like you earned your meds today," Tess laughs, patting your cheek, before standing to pull her pants back on without another word to you.

Still on your hands and knees on the couch, you watch her approach Joel, kissing him on the side of the mouth as he stares, breathing deeply, at your ass. His cum is still dribbling out of you. You flip to sit back on your ass, trying to stop its escape making too much of a mess on his furniture.

She whispers something into his ear, moves to the door, looks at you with a smirk one last time before opening it and leaving.

The door snaps shut, and she's gone.

As soon as the door closes he's on you again, pushing you back down into the couch with a growl. The air is knocked out of you as your back thuds down and he hoists your legs back, folding you in two.

Holding you down and open, the wetness of his mouth engulfs your pussy, slurping your clit into his mouth.

He's devouring you, eagerly eating all of his cum out your hole and cleaning you of his creamy spend.

You moan and twitch beneath him, having spent the last fuck knows how long with your mouth full but the desperate need in your pussy neglected. You'd hoped he could fuck an orgasm out of you, but as soon as the pressure of his cock in you had gotten good, the slap of his balls against your clit hard enough to send a thrill through you, he'd stuttered to a stop, leaving you with an aching pussy and nothing to show for it.

A strong arm pins you down, keeping your legs back, feet in the air. Two of his thick fingers thrust into you, before he pulls them out, licking them clean, then he plunges three straight back in, stretching you more than Tess's four ever had and making you whine, high pitched and needy, for more.

You're so close, so near to falling over the edge, but his desperate licks are too desperate, not focussed enough on your oversensitive pussy, too frantic. You feel like you've been edged for hours, but your clit has barely been touched until now. It's been left starving, aching for attention.

"Joel!" you ground out desperately, looking between your thrown back legs where he feasts on you. His eyes catch you, catch the desperation, the need, and he slows down, honing in on your clit, lapping in steady circles, fingers pumping deeply.

Your toes curl, tears come to your eyes and your bottom lip quivers. You nod at him. He's found it. Exactly what you need, the exact spot. He's relentless now, his tongue moving over, and over, and over as his eyes lock with yours.

"Ohhhnnnnng."

"That's it," you feel him mumble into your clit. "Good girl."

And you're cascading over the edge, into a pit of white heat, different but similar to the one in his eyes when you first saw him today. You shudder and jerk, his tongue flicking over your sensitive bud drawing wave after wave out of you as your pussy spasms around his fingers, gripping them tight and tethering you down as you writhe.

You twitch with oversensitivity and Joel finally stops, tongue leaving your clit, lips pressing firmly to your mound instead as he breathes you in. Your body heaves and you sink further into the couch, stomach muscles finally letting you unfurl from where you'd chased your orgasm so desperately.

"Fuck," he groans so close you can feel his lips move on your skin. All you can do is nod weakly in response. "You okay?" You nod again, not trusting your voice and still not entirely sure you're conscious.

His thick fingers pull from you, leaving you empty, and his hands gently guide your legs down to rest on the couch. Blood is still pounding through your ears, but you hear and feel it... the air that Joel's fingers had pumped into you chooses that moment to escape in one humiliating gust.

Your face drops with embarrassment, and you hear Joel laugh from between your legs.

"Sign of a job done good," he laughs, kissing down onto your pussy, tongue gently swiping along your sensitive clit again. You try to wiggle away, letting out another rumble, fucking fuck, and immediately still as Joel laughs more.

"You done?" he says into your cunt, spreading you slightly to look at your spent hole then to you. "I think she's good." He kisses your clit once more and sits back, stretching his back out on the sofa with his arms behind his head.

You both sit there in silence, recovering your breath and coming back down to earth. Your knees knock together as your legs relax. You close your eyes, breathing deeply, and let the chill of the room cool your sweaty body and the heat of embarrassment from your cheeks.

Much sooner than you'd like, you feel Joel start to move.

"I ain't mad at you, y'know," he says softly as he tucks his cock back into his pants. "Was never mad at you. Just mad."

You knew that already, but hearing him say it still made you feel better. It made you feel like you'd done the right thing, that you hadn't pulled him into something he didn't want. You were justified, you were right. He wanted, needed, to use you as much as you needed to be used.

"You should get goin'," he moves to stand as he speaks, walking away from the couch and from you.

"But -"

He shuts you up with a single look. You sit up wordlessly, casting your eyes down. He was right - what exactly would you even be staying for, really, other than because some part of you wanted to.

You dress in silence, panties still around your knees pulled up, clothes thrown on haphazardly, pills stuffed into an empty pocket. Joel doesn't watch this time, instead he rifles through the box left by Tess. You never see into it, but you watch his profile shift and change as he reacts to what she left for him.

You move closer to the table, making way to leave his apartment without another word, when he's closing the box and speaking.

"I've had a vasectomy," he says pointing to your now covered crotch. "So, y'know... should be fine."

"Oh." You hadn't even thought about it. You didn't even care. "You... you could've done that in my mouth too. I wouldn't have minded."

"Your mouth was occupied," he smirks with a shrug. "Besides, if I wanted to, I would've."

He gestures for you to leave, so you do, Joel following you to the door as you go. You open it yourself, just as Tess had, and walk out. You don't have time to finish saying thank you before the door is shut behind you, leaving you alone in the corridor yet again. You make your way home in silence.

You dream that night of soft lips on your cheek, softer hands roaming your body. The softness morphs and distorts, growing larger and more ragged. Rough hands drag along you, and the scruff of a beard scratches your face as a kiss too delicate to be real comes impossibly close to your mouth.

You wake in a sweat, heat pulsing through your veins and your cunt throbbing between your legs.

You'd come in your sleep to nothing but desperate thoughts of a kiss you'd never had.

next part

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #tess servopoulos #joel miller x reader x tess servopoulos #fic: SWAT #coveted fics

[sc0tters]

Left on Read | Nico Hischier

summary: after a series of texts from you get left on read you decide to go out with friends, but how does Nico react when he gets home to an empty apartment after a string of tough losses on the road?

request: yes/no

warnings: a handful of swear words, mentions of a shitty ex boyfriend, Nico acting like a bit of a douche, Google translated German, no real happy or sad ending.

word count: 2.18k

authors note: I’m in my Nico feels so this entire imagine was written off of the back of that, when someone request a Nico imagine this just had to be done.

Somehow you knew it would cause a fight.

Nico was meant to come home from a two week long road trip with the team sometime today. Yet when you messaged him in the morning asking when he’d be back you were met with your message being left on seen.

That was the second text that he had basically ignored, the first was one that you had sent him after the brutal loss against the canes.

The Devils captain didn’t like to admit it but whenever the team went through a string of losses you were the first person that he shut out. Since Nico was the head of the team he held the losses like bags of flour on his shoulders. In some corner of his mind he knew that you were always going to be there no matter how shitty he treated you because you loved him.

And that was enough for him to justify putting you on the back burner when he got into a mood.

So he had been off with you for days as the team hadn’t been playing well and it was all turning into a snowball effect. Your friends had enough of your moping around about his actions and managed to convince you to go out with them.

The only condition was that you weren’t allowed to tell Nico about it as they all swore that it was about time that he got a taste of his own medicine. You had to admit that as much as you wanted to see your boyfriend, you truly did have a fun time.

On the stroke of midnight you were back in your apartment block making your way back to your apartment. You tried to act as silently as a mouse as you opened the door to your home quickly shutting it behind you. Making your way into the living room as you slipped your high heels off.

You mumbled words of complaint to yourself as you massaged the balls of your feet as they were now killing you. But the second you locked eyes with Nico who was sat on the couch your feet felt stuck on the ground.

Your mind trailed back to the times when you were sneaking back into the house as a teenager who was out way past their curfew.

But your heart broke when you saw the glass of presumably whiskey in his hand. He hated drinking during the season and only ever allowed himself to drink during the teams big wins.

And now he was drinking during a big loss. Since he wasn’t going to talk you felt the need to address it “Nico-” your miniature lecture was cut off practically before it could begin.

Nico’s eyes were cold as they stared at yours “where were you tonight?” He asked as his grip tightened around his glass.

You now definitely felt like you were back in your teenage years “out,” your voice was small as you awkwardly fiddled with your fingers.

He muttered something to himself in German “would have been nice if you were home when I got back.” The boy sucked his teeth before he took another sip of his drink.

That comment really pissed you off “it would have been nice if my boyfriend didn’t leave me on seen.” You were quick to shoot back “but life isn’t always fair now is it?” You crossed your arms as you sent him a glare.

The idea of coming home and sitting with him on the couch as he told you all about the trip was now a distant memory. You were much more focused on trying not to kill your boyfriend. Sure sometimes he was childish but it was like he was currently expecting you to make him lemonade, without any lemons.

Your comeback seemed to hit a nerve of his as he slammed his empty glass on the table surprisingly not shattering it “you saw how shit we played.” He mumbled trying to find the excuses for his actions.

Unfortunately for him you had your friends words of encouragement to tell him off in the forefront of your mind “you still found the time to read my messages!” You were simply shocked by the fact that this was actually an argument.

You didn’t have the energy to fight but you also weren’t going to back down “is it so much for me to want a simply response of a time?” You asked running your fingers through the curls that you had done that were now all almost dropping.

Nico scoffed “is it so much for me to want my girlfriend to be home when I get back after not seeing her for two weeks?” He shot back as he stood up.

Although it was childish you were hurt by his statement “I sat here and waited until three fucking thirty and you didn’t come home.” You pointed your finger at him as he made his way over the kitchen to get a refill “so when the girls asked if I wanted to go out I said yes.” You simply wanted to remind him that you were not in the wrong right now.

It seemed like the three glasses of whiskey had already began clouding his thoughts “sorry that I was busy with the team,” he spat making sure that there was an emphasis on the last word.

With clenched fists you tried to remain calm “well Jack found time to message me,” you pointed out as the Hughes boy had sent a warning that the captain was in a mood.

The mention of his teammate made him want to call the team and give everyone extra laps in training “do you know how overbearing you can be sometimes?” The words slipped out of his mouth before his brain could process the sheer amount of venom that they were laced in.

Every morning of an away game you would send him a message, right before the game you’d send him one too, right after the game there would be a third, and just before he flew back to you there would be the final one. So that question was a clear low blow to your heart.

Biting the inside of your cheek in an attempt to not let yourself cry in front of him you decided you had enough “you know what, fuck you.” You shook your head as you spun around signalling what you thought was the end of the conversation.

However before you could do anything Nico slammed his fists onto the counter “Geh verdammt noch mal nicht von mir weg!” He yelled quickly making his way around the kitchen island and over to you.

You pressed your lips into a fine line “don’t yell at me in a language I don’t understand!” Your volume matched his and it was a good thing you two didn’t have neighbours or else they would have heard it.

His eyes went wide as he had never heard you yell at anyone, let alone him. You let out a sigh “I’m going to go and have a bath,” you announced tucking your hair behind your ear “but until you remember how to act like an adult you are sleeping on the couch.” Since the two of you started dating neither one of you had ever been banished to the couch but after three years of dating him you had never been this annoyed with him.

Thankfully for you he didn’t say anything as he nodded watching you walk into your bedroom before you let the door slam shut. You were both people who needed time to calm down after an argument and this was going to hopefully do the job. So as aggressively as you could without ripping your dress you pulled it off of your body as you made your way into the ensuite seeing the tub that was a sight for sore eyes.

It had only been thirty minutes since the sound of your bedroom door shutting took place and Nico had spent every one of those seconds contemplating whether or not he should come and apologise.

The first five minutes after, he had called Jack needing to rant to someone but the captain was quickly met with comments about how he was an asshole.

Then at minute fifteen he ordered a bouquet of your favourite flowers to come later that morning. This wasn’t an effort to make you forgive him, it was just what he always did each time you fought.

By minute twenty six he had unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher making sure that he had put the liquor that he drank back into the cabinet.

That brought him to minute thirty, where he was stood on the other side of the bathroom door as he weighed up both the pros and the cons of coming into the room.

You had spent all of those minutes with your knees pulled to your chest as you sat in your bubble bath letting his words replay in your head, Nico knew how you were called clingy by your ex in his justification for cheating on you and how he knew how much that hurt you. So as the tears fell down your face you wondered why the captain had done it. Did he intend on making you feel so small that you could have been the same size as the droplets that fell from your face? Did he want to hurt you in the worst way he knew possible?

You were quickly pulled away from your thoughts as there was a knock at the door “schatzi?” Your nickname from Nico came from the other side of the wood.

When you didn’t respond he spoke up again “can I come in?” He asked hoping you’d agree.

As much as you wanted to shut him out just like he had done to you, you knew that you were too far wrapped around his finger to fight his request “yeah,” you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear it.

You didn’t look at him though as he walking into the room. But at least Nico expected that much from you.

He sat down next to the bath letting his body go parallel to the tub as he faced you “you’ve been crying,” he sighed seeing the way your cheeks were red.

You nodded letting your lip quiver “I’m sorry,” you pulled your legs closer to your body as you still couldn’t shake his words from your mind.

The sight made his heart break “schatzi no,” he shook his head as he brought his hand over the tub as he hook two of his fingers under your chin as he forced you to look at him “I’m the one who needs to apologise.” Nico explained as he let his thumb wipe your wet cheek.

Before he could even talk you jumped in “did you really mean it?” You asked as you let your lips turn into a pout.

Nico hung his head in shame “no,” he confessed as he sighed “I love seeing your messages,” he added as he let the truth come out.

Sure the boys teased the heck out of him for the way he’d smile when your contact lit up his lock screen but all of those comments would go silent when he would threaten them with extra laps.

The captain continued “I’m sorry for not responding and for doing that every time we lose.” He didn’t even realise that you were the one he always took it out on when the team played like shit.

As much as he wanted you to jump out of the bathtub and into his arms he knew that it simply wasn’t how it worked “I’ll sleep on the couch until you are ready to talk.” Nico explained as he got up sending you an apologetic smile.

He leaned over the bathtub as he placed a kiss on your head “I love you.” His voice was soft as he turned around making his way back out of the tiled room.

Whilst you weren’t ready to forgive him just yet, you were no longer mad at him “Neeks?” You called out just before he shut the door and wanting to give you your privacy.

His head practically spun off of his head he spun around so fast “I love you too.” The corners of his lips turned upright as he reacted like this was the first time he had heard you say those words.

Now you knew that your friends were going to kill you for what you did next “sit here with me?” As hurt as you still were there was no denying that you missed him like crazy still craving his company.

He shut the bathroom door as he came back over to you “always,” he internally let out a cheer as he sat back down in his original spot just staring at you.

To some that gesture might have been creepy but to anyone who knew you two?

That was just Nico.

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagines #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x y/n #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

[breeofbree]

Bed Rest

Shikamaru x f!reader

🔞MINORS DNI 🔞

Warnings: soft core SMUT, swearing, injuries

Summary: a lazy hang out turns to lazy sex (just a quick smut read for on the go. Simple, goofy, with a bit of filler episode humor)

To say I was beat from the mission was an understatement. Turns out, getting slammed in to the ground by your neck really does a lot of damage. My bed at home beckoned to me, plush, soft comforter and lots of space to stretch compared to the bedroll on my back that’s been used for two weeks. It was a dream to be prescribed three days of bed rest by the doctor. But upon opening the bedroom door, I notice a lazy soul already occupying my sweet bed.

“Move over, I’m tired.” I grunt out, slamming face first in to the long forgotten pillow that rest besides Shikamaru’s head. It was common to find him napping in a random spot when I’d come back from missions, sometimes the floor, or the front porch of my house. But my bed was a new one.

“Great to see you and your smart comments are still alive.” He sighs as I can feel his weight shift closer to me, grunting in pain.

I wince as I turn my neck to focus on his bruised face, “I hear you got a nice beat down yourself, champ.”

“Doctors orders for strict bed rest, a drag I can’t go outside and watch the clouds.” He mumbles out, his eyes fluttering slowly shut. I huff a small laugh out as a pinch of pain runs through my neck,” bed rest doesn’t mean an actual bed. It just means get sleep and not get in any fights, Shikamaru. Now get out of my bed so I can get my ordered bed rest.”

I’m only answered by slow and steady breathing, signaling he was already practically asleep. Leave it to Shikamaru to put his best effort in falling asleep. I can only sigh, gathering a pillow to go crash on my own couch in defeat. A slow hand stops me from brokenly standing up,” bed rest, not couch rest. Just lay down and don’t be awkward, damnit.”

“Awkward? You’re in my bed. You’re the only one making this awkward.” I huff out, slamming the pillow against his head and falling back down beside him. He drapes an arm over my side and grumbles,” stop complaining already, if you didn’t like it you would’ve forced me out the door by now, Y/N.”

His delicately placed hand sends electric pulses through my entire body, a sensation that was almost taboo to feel about a close friend. And the anger of him being right sets in.

“Shut up and put your hand somewhere else then, you’re distracting me.” I try to chastise him, resulting in it moving upwards and cupping my breast,” not what I meant.”

He chuckles slightly, close enough to my ear that it sends a shiver against my spine,” if I really wanted to distract you I would.”

His hand kneads slightly, oddly relieving other pains as the ecstasy of the intimate touch invades my senses.

“S-Shikamaru, what are you doing?” I yelp out as his other hand snakes its way under my body and to my other breast.

“I’m showing you what distracting really is.” He clips out, resting his heated face against my neck and nipping softly at it. My body acts on its own free will, arching my back into his body, and grinding my ass against his pelvis deeply.

“But we’re supposed to-“ I begin, being quickly cut off as his breath ghosts over the spot he just bit,” resting… I know.”

He pulls away, minding the sore spots as I moan in frustration,” and I can’t do that now that you’ve made a move on me.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve crossed a line. I’m too tired to think clearly.” He apologizes, quickly suggesting he went home.

“No! I mean, you just caught me off guard. I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” I admit sheepishly, guiding his hands back to position. It was his turn to sigh, only this time it was relief… maybe even pleasure. His lower body rhythmically rolls into mine, boasting a defined bulge against me that grows harder with every touch. I can hear the soft moan in my ear and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from following suit.

“I’m pretty lame at the moment… I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” I breathe out, heart quickening with every motion. I suddenly realize it might be beneficial for the both of us as a moan finally escapes my own mouth,“But then again, I wouldn’t mind going slow and enjoying it. I find going slow is quite relaxing and a great way to promote rest.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself, or me, Y/N?” Shikamaru breathes out tiredly as my mind races. I whip around quickly, disregarding any aching pain and settle on top of him with a huff,” fuck it.”

My hands wander across his body, plucking and pulling at the fabric that’s separates us. It felt so wrong, yet so right to know first hand that the man who always complained about women could feel emotions such as intimacy. The friend I always slept or napped with, but never in an intimate way. The static charge of rubbing clothes courses through my finger tips, jolting through my body and down to my core. If I didn’t like him so much… if I didn’t crave or even need him so much, I might just feel guilty. But the feeling of his lips clumsily finding mine between closed eyes and rambunctious limbs fumbling around, felt a little too satisfying. We were both lazy at heart, never in a rush. And it showed as his lips took time against mine. Slowly pulling in my lower lip as his hand finds its way to squeeze against my ass, followed by a light smack. I use his slight distraction to nip at his lip, taking in the faint taste of an after mission cigarette drag. He sharply inhales, finding his bearings in gripping tightly at my hips. Shikamaru’s eyes flutter halfway open, hungrily staring me down as all thoughts escape my head in nervousness,” Y/N, are you okay?”

I shake my head back to reality, looking down at his pants line and back to him,” Y-yeah. Are you… are you okay with this?”

“Yeah.” He huffs a silent laugh as I work at his pants, finally receiving a helping hand as he pulls them below his knees. Shikamaru’s hips jerk as my hand delicately wraps around him, pumping softly and slowly, falling in to a rhythm with his breathing. Shikamaru tilts his head back, moaning slightly with a half cocked smile of bliss, jutting his hips in to each stroke as his face quickly flushes,” just don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, it’s my neck that bothers me. Not my hand.” I exhale, watching his eyes roll before they meet mine,” if it gets to be too much. Tell me to stop.”

I nod, taking a brief moment to slip off my pants that desperately need a wash after the mission and crawl back on top of him. I find the courage to sink down, the ache between my hips enhancing with each second I take to slide fully on to him. By the time I’m fully settled, it feels like my core is about to burst with ecstasy, until he lifts me slightly by my hips and slams me back down gently. A soft yelp escapes my throat from surprise, quickly hushed by his voice,” does that hurt?”

“No, it- it feels good.” I moan between thrusts, watching as his face contorts from pain to fits of pleasure and ecstasy. My head instinctively moves to fall back, quickly answered with a jolt of pain before Shikamaru goes taut and stops all movement,” Shikamaru, I said I was okay. Keep going… please.”

He nods, resuming his motion as I feel the familiar knot in my stomach, unfortunately dulled by the ebbing pain that seemed to rush back in uninvited. My eyes shut tight, spots flickering as my neck hurts and lower body goes numb in pleasure. My moan is choked out by Shikamaru’s own, followed quickly as his pace picks up, using the last of his energy to finish strong and rough.

“Look at me, Y/N.” He hisses out between his clenched jaw, forcing my eyes to obey and lock on to his before they wander once again with the sensation of pure ecstasy. With a guttural moan from Shikamaru, I can feel the hot ropes pulse in to me and his body becomes rigid once again. His head arches back in to the pillow behind him, his moan quickly becoming a whimper, and guilt makes me hope it’s from pleasure and not pain. I can barely manage to flop over beside him and try my best to hide the winces, but fail miserably.

“It was too much for the both of us, wasn’t it?” He sighs, eyes fixated on the ceiling as his hand rubs against his torso. I reach my hand to move his, taking his place to rub at the bruising area softly,” probably. But you always sucked at timing.”

His hand snakes upwards to cup the back of my neck and rub soft circles where it hurt the most, and his eyes slowly meet mine,” such a drag I didn’t do it sooner.”

I find my eyes fluttering closed at the lulling touch against my neck, being pulled slowly to rest my head against his chest and match his steady breathing,” I only let you because it was a pity to see you being the one in pain for once.”

“That’s a lie.” Shikamaru snickers, pinching my ear slightly with his free hand. I giggle back, tilting my head up to sleepily look to him,” and how would you know?”

“Never tell Choji secrets. Especially when you’re both drunk.” He answers, pulling me fully on to him with a grunt. My mind tries to gather any time Choji and I were drunk together, but falls short,” that’s a bluff. I haven’t been drunk with Choji for a long time.”

“Barbecue, sake, and wedding gift planning.” Shikamaru hints.

I then remember the night, sitting down with Choji and venting about not being able to find Hinata and Naruto a gift when my own love life was on the rocks. Sake goes down too sweetly after going through a break up just before a friend gets married. It was several weeks ago now, turning to Choji after Ino and even TenTen had come up short with ideas.

“Why don’t you ask Shikamaru? You two seem to think pretty similarly.” Choji huffs out, ordering the bottle of sake.

“The last thing we need is the two of us working together. It always ends horribly and you know that, Choji.” I cough out after knocking back several cups of the bitter and satisfying beverage.

“It’s because you like him.” Choji smirks, wiggling his eyebrows before ordering another bottle. Two bottles empty and halfway through the third one, I groan as my head slams against the table,” Choji, if I had the capability of liking anyone, why would you assume out of everyone in the leaf, it would be Shikamaru?”

“Because, Shikamaru is the only thing you talk or complain about when you’re drunk, even sober for that matter.” Choji points out, laying down more strips of beef against the barbecue. I bang my head against the table a few more time in frustration,” because that idiot doesn’t leave my head. It’s wrong to think of a friend that way damnit. Especially him.”

The next sentence is the one part I knew Choji took to Shikamaru in confidence,” we’re both too dense to just fuck and get it over with. Besides, sex takes effort and I use enough of that during missions.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that before…” Choji laughs, pulling a strip off the grill and finishing off the plate of beef. Everything afterwards is black as my hand reaches to finish the sake straight from the bottle.

“Oh no, he told you.” I groan, burying my head in guilt and embarrassment. Shikamaru only hugs me with a reassuring laugh,” everything.”

“Just wait until you hear what he told me what you said.” I lie, feeling as his breathing stops,” L-listen, when I told him about that little dream, I figured he wouldn’t say anything!”

“Choji didn’t really tell me anything, but now I’m curious about this dream…” I trail off, eyes becoming heavy as a yawn wracks my body.

“That’s a story for another time, we should get some actual bed rest.” He yawns back.

“If I wasn’t so tired, I’d try to argue with you. You win for now.” I mumble out, quickly letting the claws of sleep sink in to me. Before drifting off, I could feel his lips lazily drift across my forehead. I knew in that moment, I was too comfortable to complain or prod even further. I was content with being finally in his arms and getting some well deserved bed rest.

#shikamaru smut #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru imagine #nara shikamaru #naruto fanfiction #naruto imagines #naruto smut #shikamaru imagines #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara #shikamaru fanfiction #shikamaru x you #shikamaru is a lazy king #Shikamaru

[cloudcountry]

May I please get a fanfic where the guys react to male Mc/reader in a dress? Specifically for sebek, vil, kalim, jade and Floyd?

SUMMARY: Various TWST character reacting to Male!MC wearing a dress.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: ofc you can anon <3 i think its funny that half the characters on this list would definitely wear dresses (at least they would in my head. vil is canon though for sure.)

Jade doesn’t even look twice when you exit Ramshackle wearing a dress. As a merman, he doesn’t see the point of assigning clothing to gender (nor does he see the point of clothing at all, but he digresses.)

He canonically finds clothing uncomfortable anyways, so he’s all for it if dresses are what make you more comfortable! He might make a dark joke about how the swishing of your skirt reminds him of the desperate struggling of prey but shhh

Sometimes he finds himself marveling at the fabric and how fragile it seems. It would be a shame if it tore, huh? Oh, don’t worry. He wouldn’t dare rip such a pretty piece of clothing.

Floyd being one of the characters I mentioned above...yeah he’s definitely worn dresses before, so seeing you in one only sparks curiosity about what the occasion is. Say, Shrimpy, why are you dressed up all handsomely, huh?

If anyone asks you why you’re wearing a dress “because you’re a boy,” Floyd’s making his scary face and threatening them with a good squeezing. It’s none of your business, tidewrack. Now scram.

Hell, if anything this makes you far more interesting! Do you see all those lame asses that wear the same shit every day? It’s a good thing you’re wearing something fresh and new!!

Kalim may sound insensitive at first because he blurts out a loud “why are you wearing a dress?” But he doesn’t mean any harm! Like Floyd, it’s more of a “What’s the occasion?” question!!

As a kid, he probably saw dresses and thought that they were nice, and let his sisters dress him up whenever they were in the mood to do so

He’ll talk for HOURS about how good the dress looks on you and offer to buy you more, much to Jamil’s annoyance. (Please tell him no, Jamil does NOT want to be taken dress shopping AGAIN unless it’s for your birthday.)

Vil “Fuck Gender Roles” Schoenheit doesn’t bat an eye. As far as he’s concerned, you’re wearing a dress and that’s a piece of clothing that’s androgynous.

I HAVE SEEN FANART OF THIS MAN WEARING DRESSES AND HE IS GORGEOUS. Bless the artists that draw Vil Schoenheit in dresses, I hope both sides of your pillow are cold forevermore. ANYWAYS my point is he’s completely confident rocking clothing that is typically seen as feminine and he would love it if you were confident enough to do that too!

And if it’s only something you do in private, be prepared to have Vil as your personal support system. He’s totally for you wearing clothing that you like.

Sebek sees you wearing a dress and his first thought is that you’re doing this for mobility. He compliments your dedication to your workout routine and offers some pointers in a very smug voice.

When you tell him you’re wearing it because you want to, and not for any training reasons, Sebek recoils in shock. What? Human, you mean your entire life is not spent training?! This is why you’re so weak!

Almost passes out when Malleus shows up the next day in a dress, saying the Child of Man was wearing one and he wanted to try it out too. I mean, yes, of course you looked handsome! But you always do! AND WAHHHH!! YOUNG MASTER MALLEUS!! YOU LOOK STUNNING AS WELL!! Crying ensues.

#auburn's requests <3 #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst x reader #disney twst #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #jade x reader #floyd x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #sebek x reader #jade leech fluff #floyd leech fluff #kalim al asim fluff #vil schoenheit fluff #sebek zigvolt fluff

[echo-bleu]

Okay but. Geralt with auditory processing issues.

The mutations wreck havok on the senses. Sure, they make his hearing range incredible, but they don’t help with the processing, and he’s constantly hearing everything at once. It’s worse for Geralt than the other witchers because he’s had the Grasses twice. (Or because he’s autistic, duh.)

It’s half the reason he communicates so much with grunts, because most of the time he’s only got half of what the other person said and he just lets them interpret his grunts however they want.

And sure, he’s heard Jaskier sing so many times in taverns and courts and his songs are catchy enough, but he’s never actually managed to catch the lyrics. It’s just all gibberish to him. As soon as there’s the lute, and noise, and they’re in a city or a town so there’s people around, he just doesn’t understand any of it. It doesn’t make his “fillingless pie” comment any less insensitive, but it does give it some context.

Every winter the other witchers will make comments about the songs they’ve heard on the Path, about this or that adventure, and Geralt is just like. That. That’s what the song was about. Oh. Eskel isn’t great at auditory processing either but he’ll ask the bards to play over and over until he’s got most of it, and since they’re songs about witchers, the bards usually comply. It’s nice to hear good news of his brother. Then he’ll tease Geralt mercilessly all winter about it. That’s the only reason Geralt even knows so much of what Jaskier sings.

However, he likes hearing snatches of song while Jaskier’s composing, when they’re camping out in the open or in a forest and there isn’t too much noise around. Then he can actually understand the words, sometimes.

He’s very, very good at pretending he can hear just fine, and he’s been doing for so long, but he does feel a little guilty about making Jaskier think he doesn’t like his music. He just doesn’t know how to explain, doesn’t think Jaskier could get it, because no one ever has. Then while they’re all in Kaer Morhen after the mess with Voleth Meir, the other witchers start asking Jaskier to sing, even though he doesn’t have a lute. They’re all completely quiet during his performances, and every time Ciri or Yen or anyone makes a noise and they miss a line, Eskel will ask Jaskier to start over. (Eskel isn’t dead, obviously.)

And one day Geralt finds Jaskier hunched over a desk, with a pile of parchment beside him and his notebook open in front of him, frantically copying something.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m making copies of my songs,” Jaskier answers. “I’ve actually published the whole songbook in Oxenfurt, you know, but we can’t get it here, and Eskel said that having the lyrics would help, so I’m trying to make enough for everyone.”

Geralt’s mind is boggled because yes, having the lyrics written down would help immensely but he would never have thought to ask, let alone that Jaskier might actually be willing to write them down for him, and what’s that about a songbook? He almost just grunts and leaves him to it, but he remembers that he promised himself to at least try to communicate better with Jaskier after the mountain, so he asks in a very small voice, “Can I have one?”

And Jaskier’s jaw hangs slack for a moment before he coughs and hands him a stack of parchment. “I wasn’t sure you’d want it,” he mutters almost to himself.

“I always want to know what you’re singing,” Geralt says.

Jaskier’s eyes are wide and shining when he hugs Geralt, and his voice cracks a little. “I wish I’d realized sooner that you couldn’t hear it.”

That night he sings his entire song cycle a capella in front of the fire, his eyes boring into Geralt the entire time, as Geralt follows the lyrics along for the first time.

And Jaskier’s songs are really fucking good, actually. Geralt is hardly an expert, but he can see the way he bends and stretches language to make it flow and how he weaves the stories together and he can feel the love in how Jaskier sings about him, about them, and---

Is that what he’s been missing this whole time?

Brought to you by: the long-ass time it took me to get into The Amazing Devil’s wonderful music because I couldn’t fucking hear the words until I sat down and listened to every song while following along with the written lyrics.

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier #echo's fanfiction #sort of

[042502]

Cleaning Cabinet // C. Sturniolo.

WARNINGS: Infidelity, secret, secret, virginity, sexual content, "fuckboy"(? 

SYNOPSIS: You cheated on your boyfriend with your neighbor and the next day you lost your virginity to him in the school cleaning closet.

NOTES: I don't speak English, if you notice something that is not understood you know why. Please do not make offensive comments about it, If this is too much for you, go away.

MASTERLIST!!

It was a gray and cold morning. I felt refreshed as I drove to school. Today I had a different hairstyle, down and curly hairstyle, with forks on the sides. Even so I feel pretty and confident.

I enjoyed the feeling of not being watched 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, but not the part about being alone. The truth is that I enjoyed the feeling of company, of the people themselves. At first no one noticed my presence, but it was only a matter of time until I heard whispers surrounding the classroom.

With an uneasy feeling on my shoulders, I took a seat. Thank God my now ex-boyfriend doesn't take this class with me. Then Chris walked into the class, His uniform looked like he hadn't seen an iron in years, the top of his shirt was open. His hair was usually messy, and his eyes were covered. with sunglasses. The sunglasses I gave him.

He sat behind me, putting his feet on the table.

"Nice glasses" I comment, turning me slightly.

“Thank you, one of my bitches gave it to me”

I bit the inside of my cheeks at his words. One of her bitches?

“Why the long-faced princess?” Chris asks, noticing my change in body language.

“Nothing, I didn't think I'd see you here so early”.

He chuckles and moves his feet out of the way to get closer to me, giving me a better view of those beautiful ocean orbs.

“I came to see you and I see that you lost your fear in that skirt, a breeze and I can almost see that pretty thong of yours”

My breathing lost its rhythm at his words and I rubbed my legs.

“Stop, we're in class”

He laughs once again and brought his lips to my ear.

“I have something better we can do” he whispers and I raise my eyebrows.

“And what would that be?”

“Fuck, Chris” I moaned into his mouth as he effortlessly maneuvered his fingers into my soaked intimacy.

“So? You do not like? Do you want it to go faster?“ he whispered before kissing me again and moving faster.

Now she was in the storage closet, locked up and having a quickie against the cold, gray wall.

“Like this, yes!” my voice trailed off as he curled his fingers inside me, immediately finding my sweet spot. My legs around him tightened, until he stopped.

“Turn around” my eyes widened and his grip on me loosened.

I shakily obeyed, placing my hands on the wall arching my back, as if I were being inspected in prison, it was almost humiliating.

“Do you still want to go to class, Princess?” Chris spoke with his husky voice as he lifted my skirt and grabbed my ass. “Wow, but it seems he was right, you're such a slut,” he says bewildered as he hooks a finger in the elastic of my underwear and lets go, I jump in reaction. ”Relax, sweetheart. Why are you so tense?" He heaved a sigh as he brushed his clothed erection at my entrance.

“You once said that if you fucked me I wouldn't be able to walk and we're at school.”

“I'll try not to break you, but I can't promise anything.”

That sounds fair enough, I mean, we're talking about Chris. And somehow I would let this man do more than I ever allowed my boyfriend to do in our entire relationship. He got my green light signal and I heard the sound of him unbuttoning his pants. I was excited, but nervous, I felt like I hadn't had sex even once. So here I was, in a closet, about to do it with my neighbor.

I jumped at the sudden contact of his tip at my entrance.

“Stop being so tense, you're with me” Chris tells me once again and my heart races a little. He can be really cute sometimes, but then I remember he doesn't like having those feelings. I felt him plant light kisses on the back of my neck as he took off the rest of my clothes so I was only in my bra and skirt.

It's big and at first it hurt as I slowly extended its length. But once you pushed it all, I felt the first wave of pleasure hit me and make me shiver.

“I'm ready,” I stutter and I can feel him smile.

He pulled out and then quickly slammed into me again, my moans becoming music to his ears.

It felt glorious, its rhythm was hard, but because I liked it, it was like it was perfect for me. My meows coincided with his moans and that only brought me closer to my euphoria. I couldn't help but tighten around him and find the sides of my thighs so I could find stabilization.

“Keep doing that and you won't even be able to speak,” he said with a low growl as he continued pounding me even faster. My left thigh began to shake in a way I couldn't control and I twitched every time he hit my walls.

"Yeah. Right there, damn..."

“Wait, wait, wait baby.”

Chris suddenly came out and motioned for me to get up.

“What's wrong?” I ask him nervously and start playing with my fingers.

“You're bleeding…” he says and grabs a roll of Wipes to clean himself and put on his clothes. I passed my hand to check it out for myself, damn, a drop of blood.

He was vulnerable and wanted to disappear. I frantically went to grab several wipes to clean myself.

"¡I'm so sorry! My God, I'm sorry, I understand that if you want to leave, damn, I...“ Before I could ramble on, he just laughed and hugged me.

It was the first time he hugged me, it felt warm. But intimidating.

“Do not laugh at me!“ I say, clinging to her back.

"You know, if it makes you feel any better, you're the only girl who's bled while having sex with me" he jokes and I hit him by pushing him, but I miss because he still kept me in his arms. "Don't worry, if anything it's my fault, I shouldn't have been so rude, I just can't control myself around you".

He stopped breathing for a good couple of seconds. Did he just say that? Oh my god, I think my heart is going to explode. The dark haired boy helped me button my shirt and calmed me down. He was so gentle, like he was afraid he would break me...how ironic.

"You go out first, we should be in third period so everyone can be in class" I tell him, opening the lock and gesturing for him to leave.

"It's okay, and I'm sorry Princess, don't worry about it" He approached me and gave me a deep kiss before leaving.

Did this really just happen?

The day passed quickly, Chris left school after that. I thought he had better things to do than stay in this dump. After all, he only comes to class to see me, but he wasn't going to admit it. He text to meet his closest friend, Madi, at the bar.

“And what brings you here so early?”

“Something happened”.

“Shoot”.

“I was fucking a girl and then suddenly I made her bleed, did I break her or something? That had never happened to me before”.

"Well, it's simple" Chris seemed even more lost. "That's normal, it's practically a good thing, because it means that she hasn't been sleeping with another random guy, you broke her little flower."

“And somehow you've managed to scare me even more”

“My God, she will live, it shouldn't happen again, just don't be so harsh next time”

Now he feels calmer. Why was this worrying him so much? She was nothing more than a toy that he enjoyed playing with.

“Anyway, I can just find another one”.

Madi shakes her head and crosses her arms.

"Something tells me this one is going to stay" the girl predicts with a giggle.

"Yes of course”.

NOTES: I liked this about the university... I'm sure I'll write something like that again... If you want to be on the taglist, leave a comment on the post posted on the profile.

#chris x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfiction #chris smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo soft #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo oneshot #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew bernard sturniolo

[league-of-sam]

Don't Be Shy | Konig x Reader

Kӧnig x TF141 x AFAB!Reader

PART FOUR

Summary: Transferred against your will to a new task force to calm a troubled soldier, you felt way in over your head - especially when you came face to face with a 6'10" mountain of Austria. 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, human trafficking, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

1 / 2 / 3 / 5

It was mission day.

Training over the last two weeks had been exhausting, but the payoff was right around the corner.

The mission was simple – get in, get the hostages, get out.

Fender had been given intel of another AQ human trafficking den on the border of Serbia, and it was KorTac’s job to get them out and get them to safety.

Simple enough, and something this task force has done a hundred times over. That didn’t stop the nerves from creeping up from within you, though. it didn't feel right, being on a mission without the 141, without your family.

How much could you truly trust the people around you?

Now you sat, clutching your rifle to your chest, surrounded by the rest of the team; all of you clad in the best tactical gear that Laswell had to offer.

You scanned the room, desperate for a glimpse of the giant man that had clouded both your heart and your brain, frowning when you came up empty.

Kӧnig had been…odd to deal with.

But you were quick to learn that that was just him. He was sweet, quiet, kind, thoughtful, fidgety. It made you like him all the more, and you were so incredibly bad at hiding it. Ghost almost had a heart attack when you admitted about your little crush, the man had to be held back by Soap, Gaz, and Price to stop him ‘coming down there to get you and shoot him’.

And people said Price was the father of the group!

After spending three hours convincing Ghost you were just fine, Kӧnig had knocked your door, ready for his next lesson. You’d made an agreement – he opened up to you, working on his issues with social interaction, and you would teach him to be a better sniper.

It worked, you thought, and you were finally breaking down some of his walls.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you so quiet and closed off?” You asked tentatively, putting your rifle back into its protective carrier.

“Was, how you say, bullied? As a child, I was always big, and the other children made many comments and hurt me.”

Your heart hurt hearing him say this. You were no stranger to bullies, having been picked on your entire childhood also.

“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“You do?” he said, voice surprised.

You smiled softly, “Yeah. Kids aren’t nice. Adults are even worse. Still happens every now and then, people underestimating me or thinking I don’t deserve to be here.”

“That’s horrible.”

“It is. I can understand why you wear the hood all the time, keeps people away from something else they can use.”

“Ja.”

“I sometimes wish I had something, but Ghost always told me not to go down that road. He says it’s a hard one to come back from.”

“It is true. It’s scary, revealing yourself.”

“I’m sure it is, but it’s scary wanting to cover up, too.”

“Why would you want to?”

You frowned, looking away from him as you continued to pack your things, “Because I don’t like the way I look. Sometimes, I wish people couldn’t see me.”

He looked at you, dumbfounded, “Aber du bist so hübsch. (But you’re so pretty.)”

“What?”

He blushed, looking at his shoes, “Oh, um, you are just kind. I am sad for you.”

“I’m sad for you too, Kӧnig.” You smiled, “But it’s alright. Those people mean nothing now. I used their hate to help my anxiety, and now I’m here to help you improve yours.”

“(Y/N), I think you are helping.”

“Yeah? I think so too.”

He stepped a little closer to you, his movements stopping you in your tracks.

“Ich habe noch nie ein so schӧnes gesicht gesehen, Schatz. (I have never seen such a beautiful face, sweetheart.)” He whispered, his fingers barely touching your chin as he tipped it, making you look up at him.

Your breath was caught in your throat, heat rising to your cheeks as you melted into his touch. You reached up, your hand cupping his as it moved to your cheek.

Your heart thudded in your chest as he stepped closer to you, the other hand slipping around to rest on your waist.

Before you knew it, your body was pressed against his, the two of you searching each other’s eyes for any sign to stop.

There was none, but as soon as your fingers grazed the bottom of that damned hood, moving to lift it away, the familiar jingle of the ringtone set for Price echoed around the walls.

You fumbled, stepping back from the giant, “F-fuck…I- sorry, it’s Price I-I have to take it.”

Kӧnig released a long breath as you moved away from him, whispering to himself, “Oh, mein gott. (Oh, my God.)”

He barely paid notice to you speaking with your Captain, until something you said caught his attention, making his heart shatter.

“Yes, Price,” you laughed, “As soon as the job is done, I’ll be on my merry way.”

You were leaving?

“Yeah!” you spoke again, turning to smile at him briefly, “He’s doing well, I think he’ll be fine here. No- Captain, listen…you know what Ghost is like! It’s just a job, right? So, when I’m done, I’ll be back, promise.”

What?

‘It’? Were you talking about him like that?

Did you really think of him as nothing but a mission, something for you to fix and then leave behind once the work was done?

“I’m just a job?” he said, voice small as he watched you put your phone down.

You stood confused for a moment, until you looked back at your phone, reliving the conversation with Price.

“N-no, Kӧnig, t-that’s not what I meant by that-”

“I’m just another task for you to complete before you go leaving to your elite task force, ja?”

His voice raised with every word as he angrily collected his own things. Hurt seeped from him, and you could understand exactly why.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you pleaded, “Yes, I was brought here to do a job, but you are not just a job to me. You’re a human being!”

“A human being you were brought here to babysit.”

“Yes! I was! But that wasn’t my fault! I didn’t fucking want to!”

Your frustration got the better of you, and you snapped. No, you didn’t want to be someone’s babysitter. You were an SAS-trained sniper, for crying out loud. But you’d seen someone in need and stayed.

And you were so glad you did.

But he didn’t see it that way, who could blame him?

“Okay, sergeant. Danke for the lesson.” He said, and he nodded to you, turning towards the exit.

“Kӧnig, please- don’t leave, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-”

He ignored you, shaking his head as he flung the door open, the noise echoing around the shooting range. You winced, tears welling in your eyes as you watched his hulking form stalk away from you.

That’s the last he spoke to you.

It was the last you’d even seen him.

For three days.

He didn’t come to the shooting range, he hadn’t been showing up for training, and he hadn’t been eating from the canteen.

You never meant to hurt him or pry too far, but it was why you were here. To help him understand about teamwork and morale, to help him understand that not every person was out to get him. But you never meant to make him feel like he was just a job, just another assignment.

In a last ditch effort, you scanned the room again, and your heart skipped a beat as blue eyes pierced yours.

He was leaning against the concrete pillar on his left, arms crossed over his vest, hip stuck out as one of his feet rested in front of the other. Your eyes examined his frame, subconsciously licking your lips as you took in his appearance. He looked even bigger with all the gear on…even better.

Kӧnig blushed furiously under your gaze, flustered as he tore his eyes away from you to look back at his superior, who’s voice was booming around the room.

“Karma!” his voice made you jump, head snapping forward, “You will be taking primary overwatch. The snipers are to follow your command.”

“Yes, sir.” You answered.

Fuck.

“Now, the mission is simple. We will take the trucks down through the mountain pass, and there is a guard under our pay to let us pass without issue on the border. Roze.” Fender spoke, passing the baton to his second in command.

“From there, Contact Team 1 will press west, taking the building from behind. Contact Team 2 will follow after breach, collecting the hostages and running them to the van that is waiting. I will be driving that.”

“The Sniper team will head east, setting up overwatch to take out any stragglers that push through from the breach, am I clear?” Fender finished.

Several voices answered in unison, nods and encouraging looks thrown around the room between comrades.

You only squeezed your gun tighter, teeth sinking into the flesh of your lips.

KorTac was so different to 141.

The journey to missions would be silent, all of you quiet from the weight of what you were about to endure.

But not here.

People were chatting away, making jokes, making plans for the evening as if they were so certain they’d even make it home. It completely terrified you. The only thing keeping you alive was the promise you made to get back to your boys.

No wonder Kӧnig hated it here…so did you.

Somehow, the journey felt like it took forever, but no time at all at the same time. Something wasn’t right, you could feel it deep within you. Even the encouraging texts from the 141 group chat weren’t helping, despite Soap insisting that his flurry of memes was appropriate.

It wasn’t long until you were in position, the front of your body damp from the moisture in the grass surrounding you.

“Karma to Actual, Sniper team in position, waiting on count.” You spoke quietly, nodding to your team to settle.

“Copy that, Karma. Contact Team 1 is on route for your position.” Fender replied.

As soon as he said that, the sound of combat boots connecting with the ground flooded the air around you, legs wading past with guns held high on the target. Your heart skipped as you caught a flash of red and white stripes as Kӧnig moved past you.

He moved swiftly and silently, completely in his element.

Now was the time you’d see him in action; you’d see the crazy that everyone warned you about.

“In position, sir.” He spoke, his accent thick as he whispered into his comms, taking up position in front of the doors.

Moving the scope to settle on him, you peeked through, gasping as you saw he had no weapon at all on him. It was just him and his fists.

They genuinely did just use him as a human battering ram.

“On your count then, soldier.”

You watched him as he took a final breath before his voice flowed in your ear, “Eins…zwei…drei…

Einsetzen! (one…two…three…engage!)”

On cue, the splintering of wood echoed around the trees, and the popping of gunfire and the screams of women followed.

“Okay everyone, on your mark! Let’s clear the way.” You commanded.

One by one, you shot your rifle with ample precision, taking out the AQ soldiers that tried to escape the hands of Kӧnig, and the rest of Contact Team 1.

“This why they call you Karma?” Calisto’s voice sounded.

You let out a laugh, “Indeed it is.”

“Badass!”

As yours and König’s team cleaned out the AQ, contact team 2 made their way in to collect the hostages. That’s when you got the ‘all clear’ to move in, offering any aid needed to the poor victims.

You moved quickly, throwing your rifle over your shoulder as you stumbled down the hill towards the building, your team following swiftly behind you. The doors swung open, and a crowd of dirty and frightened women poured out, Roze pulling up with the van and ushering them in.

It was seemingly over, and you threw a small smile to Kӧnig as he helped one of the smaller girls out of the building. He looked back at you, holding your gaze for a moment, until screams and cries and yells of commands tore your attention away.

Running towards the group with a fully loaded semi-auto was a straggler, the last AQ soldier that had apparently been missed, and he was headed right for Kӧnig and the little girl.

You tossed your gun aside, not even taking a second to think, and ran as fast as your legs would take you towards them.

You ignored every order to stand down, every yell from Fender to fall back.

But no one was as quick as you to react.

You reached them just as the bullets started spraying, the force in which you banged into Kӧnig knocking him to the floor as you scooped the girl in your arms to shield her.

Somehow, you’d managed to save them both from the oncoming assault, but your complete disregard for your own life came to bite back at you as you screamed, a searing, burning pain shooting through your thigh as a bullet struck you.

Roze yelled, reaching for the child as you tossed her forward, falling to the ground when another bullet shot into your back.

Your vest protected you from deadly harm, but the force of the impact had you fall to your knees, landing on your front in a daze.

The rest of the team didn’t even get a chance to unload their own weapons into the enemy, as Kӧnig shot up, tears pricking his eyes as he ran at the soldier, tossing him into the air and bringing him back down over his bent knee.

A sickening crack of bones echoed through the valley, until silence fell, and the only sound was your laboured whimpering in the grass.

Until that wasn’t heard either.

Your body went limp.

And your vision faded to black.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #task force 141 #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost fanart #call of duty #cod mw oc #cod mw2 #cod mwf2 #callofduty #gaming #cod mw19 #captain price #john mactavish #phillip graves #ghost x reader #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig x reader #cod konig #konig modern warfare

[taisho-era-secrets]

I'm currently trying to warm up for writing so I just want to do a little headcanons post...

Things the Hashira do/say during sex

Minors DNI

Giyuu Tomioka:

Isn't one for talking during sex so much, but occasionally something starts to slip out. He has trouble stopping himself, especially when it starts getting good.

You won't get complete sentences out of him 90% of the time, so when he does slip up it's usually...

"You feel-...", "Don't-", "I can't-..." and a mixture of short gasps and groans.

Often finds himself covering his own mouth with his hand because he's starting to lose his composure.

He'll make intense eye contact the entire time though. To the point it almost worries you.

(wants you to look back at him the entire time too)

Very into slow touch, loves to caress up your legs and tummy mostly. He's not usually one for rough, fast sex.

He loves to edge you though and when he discovered that you could see the gears turning in his head... Shocked at his own actions but pleasantly surprised by the results.

Tengen Uzui:

Talks all the time during sex. It's rare to have a moment of silence with him. He's the absolute best at dirty talk too, it just comes so naturally to him.

A big tease too, sure he'll praise you but he can't resist saying something that will make you slightly flustered. Makes you clench around him too so that's a bonus.

Favorite thing is to show off his strength in some way, usually by lifting you up during sex. Absolutely loves to hold you up by the thighs in front of a mirror.

"You've been thinking about this all day, haven't you? I can tell." "Little greedy tonight, aren't we?" "The face you're making right now is so cute."

Obanai Iguro:

Depending on his mood, he can be a little harsh with comments at the beginning. In actuality, he's trying to cover up whatever anxiety he's having. It doesn't matter if this is your hundredth time having sex, he still gets a little anxious.

He's almost never the one to initiate sex, even when you find yourselves in a situation that will lead to it he'll stop and make sure it's something you're craving.

A bit shy, though won't ever admit it. Does everything in his power to keep the face bandages on during sex.

Along with being shy, he has a hard time asking you what you like or what you want done. So he usually does things (slowly) in the heat of the moment and then gauges your reaction.

Usually doesn't say much during sex, but if he gets a reaction that he likes, he'll usually boast about it a little (after he's done looking like a shocked, love sick puppy).

"Oh? Did that do something for you? Well, maybe if you ask nicely I'll do it again... Come on. Beg for me."

Gyomei Himejima:

Okay don't laugh but I think he would pray during sex don't @ me.

Hearing soft "namu"s in between thrusts-

Gyomei takes a long time when it comes to foreplay, it's both because it's his favorite part and for his own peace of mind. He needs to make sure you're ready for him.

He's not one for anything else but praise. If you ask him to degrade you he will not do it. He'll be confused, why would you ever want that?

He's also one to tell you everything in that moment, walking you through what he feels and what you feel like to him.

He isn't into pet names so much but will absolutely call you "my love."

"So soft, my love. I can feel you deep inside."

Kyojuro Rengoku:

Listen. I love him. But I think he would talk about anything and everything during sex. Doesn't have to be appropriate for the moment either, he'll just... talk.

He's focused of course, but sometimes he's bad at reading the atmosphere and will talk about what you two are going to go do afterwards- usually what you two are going to go eat. Okay enough shitposting-

To praise and be praised is all he ever wants. He'll give praise like crazy but also... just melt as soon as you praise him right back. Melt and then start jack hammering-

Any teasing that comes from his mouth is purely accidental.

"Ngh- A-amazing job! You're doing wonderful, keep it up!" "Mmm! I think we could take another round after this. What do you say?"

Mitsuri Kanroji:

The type to giggle a lot during sex.

For her, sex is definitely about the emotional connection. So degradation is a no-no. She's more into words of affirmation/praise during sex but keeping it casual enough to crack some jokes here and there.

She gets flustered easily though, don't let the giggling fool you.

"Is... this okay?" "Oh! You liked that! That makes me happy~!"

Sanemi Shinazugawa:

A sucker for teasing.

But if you tease him back it catches him off guard and makes him flustered for sure. Not saying not to do that, but it might make him short circuit.

The horny in me wants him to be into degradation, but I just feel like hardcore degradation isn't his style. I think he'd try to embarrass you but he wouldn't call you names. (if you write him like this though, by all means please do I'm a sucker for being called 'pathetic' by him-)

Similar to Obanai, Sanemi can be a little shy at first. Particularly, Sanemi doesn't really know where to look the first time.

Once he opens up though, hold on for a ride-

"Hold up... Did that just turn you on?" "Don't tell me you're close already, we just got started."

Shinobu Kocho:

Honestly, she's on the same spectrum of being a big tease like Sanemi.

Maybe even worse.

I'm tempted to say she's got a smidge of a kink for degrading people too but that's...

medical kink Sorry, wish I had more for her but my head is now just filled with thoughts of Shinobu in a Halloween nurse costume.

#ghost whispers a secret #kyojuro rengoku #gyomei himejima #mitsuri kanroji #sanemi shinazugawa #shinobu kocho #obanai iguro #tengen uzui #giyuu tomioka #kny smut #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut #rengoku smut #sanemi smut #shinobu smut #gyomei smut #obanai smut #tengen smut #giyuu smut #mitsuri smut

[keeponquinning]

Feel The Rain Pour | 18+!! eddie munson x fem!reader one shot!

summary — porn with some plot sprinkled about. eddie's been having a day and you noticed, so you decided to treat him to some alone time with you. things get steamy enough not even the rain can ruin it, maybe even make it better.

preview voiced by eddie —

word count — 21.5k 😭

warnings?? — i mean, it's smut, like, 100000% smut so. oral ( m + f receiving ), p in v sex, unwrapped bc no consequences in fic unless i deem it so, do not apply in real life pls, dirty talk tho nothing too scandalous, use of the word c*nt??, light spanking, like barely there, more smacking.

notes — good god it's finally done, it's finally here, I thought of this smutty idea like MONTHS ago when it was raining. and that....yeah, the thought of, "Oh, it's a one shot, it shouldn't take long" was WRONG lmao it took ALL the time. If you read this, thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you LIKE / LOVE this, THANK YOU WITH ALL MY BEING. If you REBLOG / COMMENT / SHOWING SAID LOVE FOR THIS, you may as well be lucifer bc i'd sell my soul. i hope you all like this, this is my first real comeback to actual fic writing, and my god, it was hard. I'd honestly not read fanfics in so long, like, I think I was a teen, but then this tall white british man that put on a wig and stole our hearts came into the scene and it renewed my life of fanfiction with such ferocity it took me by so much surprise. i've read so many good stuff from fellow writers, i hope this brings even a small amount of joy ya'll brought me reading your stuff. without further ado, read my filth with a touch of fluff. and did i need to use the voice ai for this? yes. yes, I did. ( if you see any spelling mistakes, no you didn't, I'm tired )

taglist ! — @etherealglimmer , @inourtownofhawkins , @fanxxtasygirl , @lunaapis , @kuldxx1, @roxiehorrorshow , @twilightteeth , @paranoidmunson , @aconites , @selfishsaviour

He was having a day, that much you knew. You haven't been together long, but you've learned to see the signs. The tightness of his jaw, the way the light in his dark brown eyes seemed to dim and smolder.

There wasn't a lot you knew about Eddie Munson, other than whispers and gossip that roamed Hawkins High. The Freak of Hawkins was said often and that was all you knew of him, until you shared a class with him and was sat next to him, and for an hour each day, he was all you could really see. Sometimes with a turn of your head, other times out of the corner of your eye, despite yourself. It started off slowly, the first period of class, sometimes he'd come late and seeing him peek at your book to see what page the class was on, doing it enough times that you started to point at the page number for him. That was the first time he smiled at you, amusement and appreciation thrown your way and shit, it was nice.

The way he smiled and looked at you with those chocolate button eyes of his, was nice. And that was when you knew you were fucked. Because after that? Those small interactions meant everything, dropping a pencil and him picking it up for you, fingers grazing together sent your whole arm tingling. You were pretty sure you played it cool, a polite thanks and receiving a nod. He was oddly polite, in mannerism, but the way he looked and smirked at you was...something else. Something that entirely consumed you for the rest of the day, sparking up each time you saw him walk pass in the hallway, or in the cafeteria. Your friends were so oblivious to notice, even when it felt so pathetically obvious when your eyes would meet at least a few times during lunch. Yeah, you were fucked.

Then there was the day he forgot his book, and you two had to share yours, and he smiled over at you. Don't worry, I won't bite, he had said in a joking manner once your desks were joined, the book between you and you had just held back a bit in your seat. And even to this day, you weren't sure why too bad just flew out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though the smile on your face wasn't one of embarrassment, but amusement out of yourself. You were about to say sorry, blame it on being a bad joke, but he beat you to it. Only when given permission, s w e e t h e a r t. You looked at him then, his smile matching your own and his eyes staring directly into yours and words just died in your throat, giving a nod and you settled closer. You heard the teacher's voice, read the text, but understood not a single thing. Just the sound of his voice when he was made to read, the warmth of his body close and yet not close enough to yours and his breathing as he read along silently, when you dared to look at him, seeing his lips move along the words softly and the way your heart fluttered.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, f u c k.

You were the one that kissed him first, meeting him after school after his Hellfire Club meeting. He had asked to borrow your notes for an upcoming test, your notes much more detailed. He didn't even have to have a reason, he could have asked and you would have pathetically said yes. Your friends were starting to notice, the two of you making more opportunities to interact, to acknowledge each other, and they spoke to you in concern. You didn't really care, especially then when he was still riding off a high after his campaign and you saw it on his face, the way he moved. His eyes lit up, smile wide and his laugh... You didn't ask, but he tried to talk you through it, you weren't there, but you felt you were with how detailed he went into it. You were never into the game, but he was so infectious and captivating, you listened to every word, every movement, it was like he was doing a one man show and you were the only audience that mattered. You didn't know how, but you knew you were the one that kissed him, felt his lips and felt his hands at your hips and pulled you close to him. Tasted him off his tongue and fuck. He never let you forget it, though, that you kissed him first with that smug ass grin of his. You remind him that he's lucky he's cute.

Since that day, you two were pretty inseparable, attached to the hip, it did cost you your friends, and he had felt a bit bad about it. He knew it was because of him, the Freak, but you told him you didn't care, and you didn't, his friends sort of welcomed you anyway and were more genuine than your friends could be. In that time you got to know each other a bit better, was able to read his body language more, and that's when you knew he wasn't his usual self, quieter than normal, more rigid. You'd hope to cheer him up, bringing him to Lover's Lake with some food and beer you had managed to sweet talk your way into buying — fake ID helped in that as well — and had hoped for a nice little sunny outing, yet the overcast sky didn't quite get the message and messed that up for you. "This is a bust," you let out with a sigh, at least finishing your food, throwing the wrappers in the bag you brought. "Sorry, I was picturing sunny skies and laying all warm, but..." you tell him, looking at him with an apologetic face.

He wouldn't have it, though, looking at you with a shake of his head, "What're you talking about? You got me fed, liquored up, got us all to ourselves... Nah, sweetheart, nothing to apologize for, this is great." He stretched his arm, his sleeveless shirt showing off his tattoos on his arm, flexing his ringed fingers, his jacket around your shoulders, seeing you shiver once and immediately throwing it around you despite your protests. You were stubborn, but he was slightly more. Offering a smile, you watched as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close and laid a kiss at the corner of your lips. Chuckling deep at the soft little whine that came out of you, a smirk on his lips as he grasped your chin between finger and thumb, his lips meeting yours in a soft caress. Both of you feeling the smile between you, feeling a wave of relief and he a wave of hunger. Pressing his lips closer, your heart pounding against your chest as he took a deep breath and lips parted. The warmth of his tongue slid across your bottom lip and your body quivered, accepting his tongue, his taste.

His jacket fell from your shoulders, though you didn't feel the cold, just the heat of his kiss and the taste of cheap beer and cigarette — he's such a smoker and before you thought it was gross, but now the taste is undeniably warming up to you. Probably because it was so Eddie, you couldn't help but crave it now. Meeting his tongue with every flick, every roll that makes your head dizzy. You kinda recall your fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt, grasping the fabric and pulling him closer. Fuck, it strokes his ego when you did things like that, show how much you want him. You knew it did. But you didn't much care when you swallow his groan like that his hand moved to your cheek, can feel his breath deepen, chest rising and falling quick. His other hand joins in, cupping your face and it's your moan he swallows next and he does, so eagerly before the kiss ends and you two part, lips wet and thread of spit between you.

Dazed brown eyes look at you, his body warm, kind of tingling. His thumbs stroking along your cheeks, a small lazy smile on his face. "That better, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. Always looking at your face, catching any movement, some sort of tell of what you were feeling. You were breathing deeply, seeming to be in a bit of a haze that he wouldn't lie, stroked his ego and he could feel himself harden in his jeans. He couldn't help it, seeing you like that from his kiss did things to him. His thumb brushing your bottom lip, catching your smile.

"Mmm..." you hummed, keeping close to him. "It's a start... Definitely a start."

His brows raised, his smile widening enough to show his teeth as he let out a breathless laugh. "A start? A start?" You chuckled, his lips peppering yours with kisses. You drove him crazy sometimes, though he liked it, "Can't believe..." he uttered against your lips, kissing you between his words, "..giving my best..." Fingers gliding down your neck, stroking the flesh lightly. "...and you say... It's a start... Killing me here..." Though he's still chuckling, along with you, it makes him forget, at least a bit, caught up in you. There's a lightness in him again, and he knows you can feel it, because he can feel it in you, too.

"It's a good start," you insist with a smile, lips flushed against his lips, teeth finding his bottom lip, biting into it and the groan he lets out brings in a wave of heat through you, pooling within your stomach, felt between your legs. He wraps his arms around you, around your shoulders unexpectedly and pulls you closer, feeling his lip slip between your teeth.

He sucked the lip, the stinging pain from that bite lingering, but in such a way it had zapped through him and went straight for his cock. Feeling a twitch there, jeans getting a bit tighter, but not unbearably so. Looking at you, he shook his head in pure astonishment, eyes scanning your face and fingers digging into your hair. "Shit," he let out, "Y'know what gets me? People look at you and think you're such an innocent little thing." You snorted at that, a roll of his eyes that only makes his smile grow wider. "I'm serious. Yeah, my girl is smart, kind, fucking gorgeous, prettiest thing I've seen..." His train of thought seeming to veer as his lips came to yours again in a soft kiss, fleeting as he let out a hum, feeling you shudder, letting that ego be stroked once again. "They think I'm so mean and scary... Like I bullied you into being with me... That I'm corrupting you. Like I'm gonna ruin you." His nose nuzzled against yours, dark brown eyes staring straight into yours, "That you have to or must be scared of me." His hand moved to the curve of your neck, thumb caressing your jaw as he took a deep breath. "Maybe you should be. Maybe I am ruining you."

He doesn't usually talk like this, which makes you listen to every word carefully until it starts to click. That lightness that had sparked within him dimmed a little with every word, and it's in that moment you realize what exactly had set him on edge today, the way he's looking at you, the jaw clenched again, it makes you take a deep breath and lick your lips. "Who was it?"

A strained laugh escaped him, dark brown eyes slightly flicker amusement as his grip on you loosened and he pulls away a bit. "Like I said — my girl is smart." You watch as he leaned back and rests at the palms of his hands against the grass. "Scott. Carver. Brick, the fuck I know, that meathead you used to slobber all over — well, maybe the other way around."

"Calvin."

He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes so hard, you were sure it must have hurt, but he kept it up. "Calvin, or your pal, Cal," a hint of jealousy in his tone, fingers growing busy as he fiddled with a leaf on the grass by his hand. "Yeah, that guy. Came up to me at the lockers, like some white knight trying to save the damsel. You guys hadn't been together since last year? Yet he sees you with the freak and here he comes running. Saying all sorts of stuff, basically I'm bad for you," he quirked his lips, the leaf now torn to shreds, brushing the remnants of it off his hands. "That I'd drag you down, you got this bright future and I, essentially," his eyes looking up at you. "...will ruin you. That I should let you go. Whatever I'm doing to make, a sweet girl like you," his hand coming toward your face, tucking your hair behind your ear, watching your head lean into the touch and a soft smile appears on his face, taking in an uneven breath. "...a s w e e t girl like you...want anything to do with me, I should just stop, before you turn into a freak, too. And sweetheart, he's not the only one that thinks that. Because your former friends? They think the same."

"Do you believe them?" He doesn't answer you, but you feel the stroke of his thumb against your cheek, he takes a deep breath, but his lips are still. Grasping his hand, you give it a squeeze, "Eddie... Do you believe them?" You watched as he licked his lips, wondering if your taste was still on them, if he was savoring them, gently feeling his hand slide away from your cheek, his warmth lingered though. Slowly fading as your hand found itself on his jean clad knee, fingers trailing over the ripped hole, nails trailing over the skin. There was a sense of a shiver from him, prompting you to move a bit closer. "Baby, tell me you don't believe you're going to ruin me. That's not what's happening here. They're just assholes."

That made him laugh, a soft huff of it as his eyes trailed from your hand on his knee to your eyes, a small barely visible smile on his face. "Honestly?" He inquired, and only when you nodded, he continued, "I dunno. I mean, no, it's not like I went outta my way to..." He shrugged, "Try and get you or anything. Didn't really think much of it, of us being a possibility. Shit, part of me sometimes wonders if its a prank by your buddies. Send the pretty girl to the freak and...be nice to him, kiss him because..." His smile wide as he gave you a nod, "Y'know, you kissed me..." You snorted and rolled your eyes, making him laugh, eyes roaming over you, a proud feeling coursing through him. "Make him feel lucky that...you were goodly enough to do that. And other things... Really...good things."

"What, just good?"

He laughed, "Doesn't feel good, does it, huh?" Referencing your earlier assessment of their kiss.

Which you immediately got, chuckling as you moved closer towards him, close enough to feel his warmth of his body and his gaze. "Touche."

Eddie let out a soft hum, looking into your eyes with a pleased little smile. "I do feel lucky, though. I've noticed you, y'know, long before the school year. Before being sat next to you first period. The thought of you noticing me? Being nice to me — that, wasn't used to that." Shaking his head, he brought up his hand, wrapping it at the side of your neck, thumb caressing against the hallow of your throat. "Most people just...are so annoyed by me," he let out with a soft laugh, an even proud smile. "Something I bring out I guess. Just set 'em on edge, not gonna lie, I don't hate it. Gives me a kinda thrill to piss off so many people while just existing. That's natural born talent."

He wasn't wrong, after all, before the school year, all you knew of him was what was whispered and gossiped among friends and classmates. When you thought about it, there was a sense of unease whenever he happened to walk along the halls, making no qualms of his presence known. Back then, you didn't think much of it, you figured it was just the way it was and something to be endured. No one had attempted to know him, aside from the other outcasts, the ones that didn't fit in. You supposed you did, though barely, you weren't one of the popular ones but you were somewhere in between. You didn't hate Eddie, you just didn't know him, though you supposed there was a part of you that was helpless to take notice of him, even then. Though now...

"But you," he continued, eyes pouring over you, shaking his head lightly from side to side. "I dunno... You weren't like that. Not like them. You didn't seem scared, annoyed, maybe a bit quiet at first, but..." He shrugged, trying to explain it, even just a bit. Thing was, he did expect you to be like your friends. Ignore him, mock him, but since the day you simply pointed at the page number after he had peeked so many times, he was a little drawn to you. Not thinking he had a chance, of course. But, he liked being close to you, even if just in class, passing you through the halls, the fact you'd have an actual conversation with him. He knew it wouldn't go beyond that, that was, until you kissed him. "I still don't know why you kissed me, though, ego stroking aside... Not that I don't enjoy it, I fucking do. But, if I'm honest... Part of me wonders if it's all leading up to me covered in pig's blood. Some payback for...being mean and scary."

"So... You think I'd fuck you...for a prank?" You took in a deep breath, raising your brows, "Wow, that's some dedication there... Because as you keep bringing up the fact that I kissed you, I also fucked you right after... And I don't care even if you were that big of an asshole and somehow deserving of a prank of Carrie proportions..." You shook your head, "I wouldn't do that for a prank. Goes without saying, I wouldn't do that to you, because," you cupped his cheek, smiling softly. "You're not mean and scary... You're kind of hot, actually..." A laugh shared between you two, as he raised his brows and pointed at himself, as if questioning, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. "Y e a h, you are. Ridiculously hot. It's very distracting, has been for a while even before I kissed you..."

"Y e a h ?" he asked, a shit eating grin on his face. Maybe he sort of believed it, recalling that odd time of sitting next to you in that damn class, so certain he'd be bored to tears, and then he wasn't. Not with you. Nothing was ever boring with you. His eyes glancing toward your lips, remembering that day, when you first pressed his lips to his — riding off his high after the campaign, after Hellfire, it wasn't his most sexiest moment, in his eyes. Which made the kiss so surprising, always being able to come up with some quip, some comeback or just be loud. But when you kissed him? Shit. All he could do was taste you, wanting more. Couldn't believe it. He still smiled when he sat at his throne and looked at the table, knowing with vivid detail how pretty you looked, cumming as he fucked you right on it. "Why'd you kiss me? I mean, I wasn't really...sexy right then... I don't think you're pranking me, anymore, I'm past that, but... I've been wondering. Stroke my ego for a bit."

"Oh... You were sexy then..." Laughing softly as you saw his confused face. "I'm serious. I was already...fucked over you, and you were..." You shook your head, "God, you don't even know. Eddie... I spent so much time around jocks, academics, party girls, all just making it their whole personality. It's their life and all they care about... Nothing else mattered, especially people. I'd be in a crowded room and they wouldn't care if I was in it. Even with Calvin, I just...didn't matter, y'know? All that time dating, he didn't know me. Just...this idea of me, I guess? He didn't care about knowing the person I was... Until I broke things off because I felt so lonely. There's no passion, no...joy, really. And even with sports, which, is the driving force in school, all they talk and care about, yet, I've never seen them as passionate as you were that day. No one's...genuine like you are." You watched as his eyes softened a bit at that, a ghost of a smile on his face. Had no one told him that? Were you the first? "And, again, you're not mean and scary. I've seen how your friends look at you. They'd follow you anywhere. No one mean and scary could bring that devotion. Loud? Yeah. Obnoxious? A good amount," he rolled his eyes at that, but both of you sharing a smile.

"You could even be annoying sometimes, but..." you continued, looking ino those deep brown eyes of his. "I'd take you over normal or, even the tall, dark, handsome type because those types are fucking boring and you are anything but boring. You talk, sometimes a lot, but at least you don't bottle things up like everyone else seems to do. Wanting to feel numb, playing their roles and settled to play them until the day they die. Without passion, without emotion, doing what they think is right for them, not what they want. I kissed you, and promptly fucked you, because you were different than anyone I had ever met. Very unique, very Eddie Munson and... I liked that the fact that I've never played the game didn't stop you from telling me every single moment of that campaign that day. Like you needed to explain it all to me. Like, you were excited and wanted to share that with someone you barely knew, it was..." You smiled wide, "It was very cute."

"Um," he interjected, holding up a finger, "I thought I was hot and sexy, I don't recall...cute being used to describe me, you're being very inconsistent, here, sweetheart."

A soft laugh breathed out as your hand on his cheek went to the back of his head, fingers grasping his hair. "Oh, but you're actually all three?" He gave a nod, facial shrug given as you moved closer. "And it's actually very unfair, making it hard being around you and not do this..." Smiling against his lips, feeling his grin against yours as you kissed him, feeling him pull you closer, once again feeling his tongue slide within your mouth with no resistance from you. The hand on his knee lingered, the taste of his cigarette greets you once again, fingers sliding along the denim, nails dragging against the fabric, slowly along his inner thigh.

You were playing a dangerous game the more you moved those fingers on him, his breath hitching, shiver running through him and an ache settled from his hardening cock. He should probably tell you to slow down, to get in the back of his van to continue, in his opinion, a pretty fucking perfect afternoon. All because, he figured out, you wanted to cheer him up. Because the thoughts of your former friends, former boyfriend got into his head... Your words playing in his head, now, the roll of your tongue against his taking his breath away. His hands finding the small of your back and pulling you closer. His previous thoughts of his van slowly melting away, pressing himself closer to you. Chasing the sweet taste of you.

He liked that out of the two, you were the one that initiated the love bites. Your teeth finding his bottom lip, applying just the right amount of pressure, sending a pleasant little shock wave through his body. A little moan as he shivered, grasping your hips tightly. Sucking in his bottom lip as it slipped from your grip, tasting the slightest hint of blood, feeling a throb of his cock, the lightest touch of your fingers grazing against the bulge through his jeans. "Shit," he whispered, bringing his lips across your jaw, seeing your eyes look down between you both, on your fingers teasing him. The pads of your fingertips sliding up and down the clothed length, feeling his body tensing, a groan bubbling at the depth of his throat. "You drive me crazy, princess," his voice soft, wet kisses pressed against your throat. You feel the warmth of his tongue as it slid out, closing his eyes as he felt your fingers copying the patterns he placed on your neck, a groan as the palm of your hand pressed against him. Rubbing lightly, yet with pressure. "Fuck, d'you know what you're doing to me right now?"

"Mmhm," you hummed, the fingers in his hair tightening slightly, as he growled and grazed his teeth against your neck. The feel of him pulse beneath your palm, keeping the slow pace but also taken by how hard he felt. Making your mouth water, an ache between your legs. "I do," your breath quickening, closing your eyes as your hand squeezed the bulge of his cock gently. The way he groaned made you squeeze your own thighs. You wanted to chalk it up to this thing between you being new and different, but the way he was able to arouse you so easily, to make you wet with a gentle gaze, touch, words whispered in your ear... That had to be something significant, right?

That, or maybe Eddie Munson just made you ridiculously horny.

Ever since you two had fucked that day after Hellfire, spread your legs so willingly for him on that damn table, a part of you was haunted by his cock. The feel of him, how hard and thick, the way it filled your mouth and cunt so differently yet so perfectly, it made you moan even now. Did Eddie know what he did to you? He holds you tighter, panting softly against your neck in a way that made you shudder. A whimper let out as his hand roamed up your back, his tongue finding your pulse, sucking wetly against it. The feel of his fingers glided over your shoulder, tugging the thin strap of the dress you wore — remember? You were expecting some warmth in the day. The dress was thin, flimsy at best, and perhaps more for his benefit, no bra underneath as he pulled the strap further, giving your neck a bite, making you squirm, a small whimper in your throat. You could feel his smile against your neck, moving toward your lips and melded into a kiss.

He knew you didn't wear a bra — selfishly it was the first thing he noticed when he saw you. The sudden cold weather making your tits hard, damn noticeable with that dress. Eddie prided in having so much self control not to latch on straight away, though that resistance was crumbling as you moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss to let out a hiss, feeling your hand on his cock more insistent, "Mmm, baby..." he muttered against your lips, watching with a delighted gaze as your fingers went to his belt. You were so determined, insistent, and it stroked his ego so good that you wanted him that much. He kissed you again, teeth at your bottom lip just as you had, helping you with the zipper. "D'you..." he breathed out, groaning, your hand slipping inside, the loss of a denim barrier and the much thinner fabric of his boxers felt amazing. "That's... F u c k," he was going to say something, suggest something... "Fuck, um, van? D'you..." His cock twitched, right under your grasp. "God, you're killing me..."

And your hand was demanding, palm stroking his length over his boxers. The sounds of his groans making the ache between your legs all the more unbearable. "No... Not the van... I want you right here..." you uttered as your hand slid underneath his boxers, the both of you letting out a gasp of breath as your hand wrapped around his hardened cock, the feel of it within your grasp so oddly comforting, actually craving it since the last time you had him. With his help he lowered his jeans slightly, just enough to free him completely.

The thought of you wanting him so eagerly, it was frying his brain a bit. "You sure? If someone... Mmm..." That wasn't fair, how your thumb played with the bead of precum at his tip, using it to rub against him, his hands laid flat on the grass, trying to will himself not to shudder. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he looked at you, biting his bottom lip. "Someone could see us, sweetheart..." Since when did he care? Well, not for himself. "Someone could see you..."

"I know." His face awash in lust and confusion, your face moving toward him, "I don't care," you tell him with a smile, sneaking in another kiss, as if you could ever get enough of them. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze his cock lightly, a small groan from his lips excited you, head filled with lust, with need. "I'm not a sweet girl, Eddie. I'm really not—"

"Yes, the fuck, you are," he uttered in a hiss, swallowing hard, his brown eyes darker to you. "You're my sweet girl..." The sound of it evoking a part of you from the depth of yourself, the way he said it, gave you the need to move your hand so painfully slowly, up and down his length. He let out a small whine, so discreet, so easily missed — but you heard it, from the back of his throat. Licking his lips, his hand grabbed you. "My sweet girl," he repeated, "Just mine," his words sounding distant, feeling himself get lost in your hand.

"I'm not innocent, though..."

That made him laugh, strained and out of breath, but laugh. "That you're not, sweetheart. No, that's what Cal and them think. Just sweet and innocent and should never, ever be around anyone like me," his voice laced with resentment, bitterness, a grin that matched it on his face. "I'm sorry, baby... I let them get to me." He let out a small groan, hips squirming underneath your touch, hand twisting as your rose it toward the tip and fuck, that felt good. "They don't see what I see..."

"What do you see?"

He hummed, pleasantly, fingers trailing up the hem of your dress, pushing it up your thighs, hips. "I see... A fire in you... Burning bright..." His words soft as he took your lips in another kiss, soft, sensual, open as you met his tongue once more. Never resisting. Always giving. A groan pushed into your mouth as his hand cupped your mound, long, thick fingers sliding back and forth against your covered folds. You were drenched, of course, to his utter fucking delight. Digits covered in the warmth sticky nature of your wet arousal, he sucked your bottom lip, teeth catching it, biting deep that you let out a whine. In your stroking of him, you felt the bead of moisture leak out of him more, felt the pulse and throb of him. Spreading it along his length, you needed to make your hand slick, wanting to slide your hand all the more easily.

As if he knew, as if he could read your mind, he broke the kiss and took your hand off his cock and spit into your palm. You couldn't help to watch in a sort of awe, it should disgust you, if it was anyone else, it would. But you couldn't help but think of Eddie doing exactly this, when you weren't together, and the thought of him thinking of you as he used his spit to his own cock, to jerk off... Thighs clenched together, feeling his hand guide yours right back to his length, moving your hand slowly up and down him, releasing small moans from his lips. Each sound sending a chill to run through you, warming and cooling you at the same time.

It didn't take long for him to lift his hand away, letting you take over as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the soft, and god, fluid feeling of your hand. You really didn't care if anyone were to walk by or see the two of you, because as your eyes took in the sight of Eddie's face then. The poke of his tongue between his lips, the slow rise of his chest, the concentrated, blissful look of his face as his jaw clenched and nostrils flared as his breath hitched and exhaled... You felt a sense of pride, knowing you were doing this to him, pleasing him in such a way. Your hand felt so smooth along his cock, squeezing gently, giving him a slightly tighter feel. His hand on your thigh tightening, fingers flexing the longer you went, you almost felt godly. You wondered if his rings would leave bruises on your thighs with how strong he was squeezing, you hoped they would.

"Should I be... Baby, you're too good at that..." his voice strained, his insides on fire, especially with your thumb swiping across the slit of his cock. "Making me... Fuck, wanna kick anyone's ass who you ever...touched like this... Oh, fuck," he ended as your palm twisted around the head, quick, fast, making him let out a whine. Pleasure almost overwhelming. He could feel it, the slow crawl toward the edge, gentle steps toward that blissful state that you've managed to bring him to over and over since the first time. You've shocked him, he'll admit that, a girl like you? Doing such filthy things, and not having to be coached, or taught, just simply let be? It was the hottest thing about you.

You feel him pulse in your hand, eyes watched as he leaked further, in your eyes, just for you. His words sweet in their own way, smiling softly as you take in the sight of his cock. Such a pretty one. Not that you had a lot to compare it to. "Well, thankfully your pretty hands can stay clean..." A tease in your voice as you moved closer, while his spit in your hand was...unexpectedly sweet and highly arousing, it wasn't quite enough as you gathered within your mouth and let it drool almost perfectly over the swollen head, your other hand swiping the remnants off your lips. You say his eyes, how wide they got, how dark the brown. He enjoyed that, which made you all the more wet. "You're really the first to really let me...show my skills like this. My other boyfriends...they never really let me play their cocks, so... No one else been touched by me like this."

That seemed...so insane to him. Eddie's brows furrowed, trying to comprehend what you just told him. Because there was no way... "Not once, not even... Fuck," the way your hand squeezed at his base, pressing against his stomach as your fingers went to caress his balls, using your spit to make them slick as well, and giving them attention, his hand turned into a fist with his nails digging into the flesh of his palm. "That... uh. Fuck. W h y ?"

You smirked, the flat of your palm moving toward his sacs, sliding up and down them. Slowly. Gently. "They thought I was a sweet girl..." The way he laughed, breathless and strained, brought a wicked smile to your face. "Even in the heat of the moment, they thought I was made a glass. Too pristine, too precious to get dirty." Your eyes looked toward his shaft, the way he was thick, veins so prominent, he was a good length too. Just slightly above average, not enough to scare someone, but enough to feel deep, deep enough to make you lose control hard and fast, and more than deep enough to gag. "I was too precious to have their cock in my throat, too...." Looking at him, your best attempt at doe eyes — not that you could compare with his — but it earned a chuckle from him, the hand on your thigh squeezing as he let out a groan.

"Princess..." He looked like he was struggling, trying to regain some sort of resolve, to hold back. The talk of being out here and getting caught, it was...definitely exciting and the fact that you weren't holding back... It was fine to indulge a bit, his plan was still to drag you into the back of his van at some point before things got too...intense. But the implications of your words struck him, the memory of your ex-boyfriend trying to rough him up with words and doubts on the two of you. It made him thoughtful, licking his lips before asking, "So... Not even with Cal?" Fingers stroking against the flesh of your inner thigh, sliding them over the fabric of your panties. "Never...sucked his cock, like at all?"

"Not even with Cal. He didn't think I was that type. And, honestly? I think, with Calvin... He was just embarrassed he wasn't as big and thick...as you are."

Ah, shit. You really knew how to work him, to stroke his pride and make him putty in your hands.That settled it. "What a fucking pussy. Get down here." The way you smiled then, eyes lighting up made his own do the same. Cupping your cheek, his fingers caressed your lips a moment, and you opened your mouth, making him shiver as two of his fingers slid inside that warm, wet mouth of yours. Shoving them deep, right where his rings touched against your lips. Your eyes soft, begging, the warmth of your tongue pressed against his fingers, it made him groan, sliding them in and out of you. There was a shiver that ran through you as well, a shock to your system that hit directly to your cunt, the ache growing. He pulled you to him, fingers leaving your mouth and lips crashing against his. The kiss hungry, gripping the back of your head, your hair, swallowing the whimper that flowed from you. How easily he could get you to whimper for him. To think your previous boyfriends wouldn't appreciate that? Wouldn't strive to make you moan and whimper like that on a daily basis? Fucking insane.

Crazier, still, was the confession that they wouldn't let you suck them off. That it was too dirty for you. The hand at the back of your head as his tongue roamed within your mouth, your taste so addicting and making his heart pitter patter and his cock twitch within your grasp still. Shit. His hand moved to grasp at your chin, reluctant but determined to give you what you wanted, pulling away and dazed brown eyes looked into yours, giving a soft peck at your cheek. He watched as your eyes closed, the way you adored his soft touches, the warmth of his breath as he exhaled against your cheek. You watched as he took another cautious look around, despite your words, not wanting to put you at a disadvantage of getting caught, still caring, still wanting the best for you, even if everyone else decided that didn't include Eddie Munson, the freak. You didn't see him that way, though. You were making that very clear to Eddie, to his utter fucking joy.

Licking your lips, the hunger gnawing at you from the inside, you placed your open palm at his stomach, pushing against him slightly. A prideful smile on his lips as he looked at you with adoration at you taking charge at the moment. Eddie leaned back, spreading his legs as you settled between them, lowering down on your stomach. Obliging as you tugged at his jeans, lowering them past his hips for better access. He watched you carefully, cock rigid, stiff, a light twitch as you still grasped him at his base, the head just an inch or so from your lips. It made you smile, of course, knowing he was eager for your mouth, he often always was, but to feel it so physically was something else altogether.

You take the moment to drink in the sight of his cock. It wasn't the first time you had seen it, of course, taking every opportunity you could manage. But you weren't bullshitting when you told him your past boyfriends thought appreciating their cocks like this was...not for you. Being far from a virgin, you've had sex before, as did Eddie, but never really taking the time to enjoy it. Always rushed, always something to get over with and taking you home or to the party, all to fall back on the image of being sweet and virginal, to lie. To play the part they so desperately wanted you to play. Far from it with Eddie, the first boy to not hold your wrists when you tried to undo his belt and simply allowed your hands to wander into his jeans. Always striving to be himself, he afforded you the same, in every aspect, he made you feel brave and accepting of yourself in ways no one else before him had.

That's what you loved about Eddie Munson, everyone calling him a freak for being himself. Maybe you were a freak, too, for loving that about him. And wanting a bit of that yourself. Indulging in these moments with him, seeing the beauty of his cock — and he had such a beautiful cock.

You squeezed him gently, and he let out a slow groan, mostly trapped at the back of his throat, but you heard it, still. He was thick, enough to give you a bit of a stretch when buried inside you, making sure that no one else would feel the same. Your fingertips glided along the underside of him, tracing along the veins, following toward his tip. They pulsed beneath your touch, his stomach rising and falling gently, your tongue, the tip of it, followed your fingertips' path, closing your eyes as the taste of his hardened flesh sparked to your senses. He had such a unique taste, you couldn't describe it, but it made you want more as your mouth slowly ascended to the heavy head, eyes opening to see the bead of precum, so pearly white and waiting.

His dark chocolate colored eyes met yours, looking at you so pleadingly. His eyes could make you do anything, he didn't even have to ask. But the words, "Please, baby..." came in just a gentle whisper, and before you knew it, your tongue swirled along the tip, taking the taste of him onto your tongue and you heard him let out a groan. A shiver running through him that made him utter your name as if a thankful prayer to God. "Thank you," he said, and without even putting thought to it, your lips wrapped around him, his body shivering, a warmth running through him and a shaky breath shot out his lips. Tilting his head back, the feel of your mouth hot, wet, sucking him so greedily it made his head spin. "Baby... Sweetheart... F u c k."

"Mmm..." His taste grabbed at you, consuming you into wanting more. You love the way he felt, even just his head, inside your mouth. Loved the way he seemed so lost when wrapped around your mouth. Your name never sounded so ethereal than when he moaned it out like that. Mouth watering, a hand grasping at his thigh as you worked to get more of him inside you. Slowly at first, moving up and down, feeling the way he throbbed and hearing a curse from his lips. He felt heavy on your tongue, pressing the flat of it against the underside of him. Each time moving down, taking an inch here, there, not minding to gag, but you wanted to savor it. Eddie often worried if you gagged too much, tempted to pull you off, but not wanting that now. Wanting to show how good you could be for him. Feeling your mouth dripping onto him, trails of wetness sliding down his length, your mouth feeling full, yet not quite there, yet.

His hands came to your head, fingers brushing through your hair and holding them tight at the back of your head. Out of the way, for your comfort and selfishly, to see the sight of his cock slowly filling your mouth. "Jesus Christ..." he groaned, his eyes half lidded, wanting to close, begging close with how good it felt, your determination to take all of him so fucking adorable to him. Your little moans when you go down making him twitch inside you, letting out a soft hiss the more you take him, the tighter you feel. Making him want your pussy, to buried deep inside, to make you feel as good as you were making him feel... But then he catches how you squeeze your thighs together, and it makes him smile. "You're doing... Ah, fuck, so good for me, Princess... You won't stop, will you? Not until... Shit, not until..."

His words unfinished as you couldn't help but quicken your movements, lust clouding every movement and decision. You wanted more of him so you were going to get more of him. Feeling your cunt wet, walls squeezing around nothing and wishing he was inside you, squeezing your thighs together instead, moaning around his cock as his tip drew closer and closer to the back of your throat. Every throb of him was encouraging, loving how he felt so alive inside you. Such a wet mess, feeling your mouth water and drenching his length, moving your head faster, the more you could hear it, but you didn't care. Not when you were so close, because he was right, you wouldn't stop, not until — and you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the moment hit, just as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you stilled. And he gave a strained cry, not seeing how he closed his eyes and cursed into the air. But you moaned, feeling your throat constrict around him, gagging, so obscenely, but not caring.

"Baby, baby, you did it, you did it, fuck, you did it," his words rushed and feverish. The sounds you made driving him crazy, enough to buck his hips, fucking into your mouth. Forcing his eyes to open, staring at you with a soft little whine, seeing you start to move your head again, bobbing up and down his cock and filling your mouth over and over, groaning deep as he hit the back of your throat again and again, the wet sound filling his ears. "...open, open your eyes, please, please, open... There you are," he smiled, a soft little laugh escaping him as your eyes opened, "My sweet fucking girl..." His other hand grasped at your cheek, shaking his head as he saw your eyes almost close again, "No, no, no, don't..." Another hiss coming from him, continuing to meet your mouth with his thrusts, a gag from you squeezing him just right that had him throbbing, a sharp shiver run through him. "Keep your eyes on me, alright? Yeah?" You nodded, prompting him to let out a soft, dreamy sigh. "Good girl..."

God, you wished he hadn't demanded you keep your eyes open, because the sound of that, of him calling you that, made you want to close your eyes as you let out a deep seated moan, vibrations of your mouth cascading over his cock. His lips parted as panted breaths huffed their way out of him, but eyes were on each other, sinking your mouth down onto him. His hand moved from your cheek then, grasping lightly around your throat and you really wished you could close your eyes, then. His finger and thumb squeezed along the sides of your neck and sending you into a dizzying spiral that sent your movements into overdrive, the hand at his base lowered, grasping at his balls, rubbing and giving them attention as you felt yourself choking on his cock. You were wet, soaking, aching between your legs. Your eyes glistening and hand splayed at his stomach, scratching along his happy trail, but looking at him.

With the work of your hand earlier and now, the work of your mouth? You were wrecking Eddie in a way only you could. His cock couldn't sit still, twitching, pulsing so deep into your mouth. His chest heaving, feeling his stomach clenching, a fire slowly building toward a white hot burning he didn't know whether to stay away to make it last or just run toward it. "Jesus fuck, you feel so..." He should probably say something sexy, or... Withholding? Something... Oh, the fuck he knew. "Oh, baby you feel so good... You're doing so —" A withering moan leaving him, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes, a deep shudder running through his body, tensing, he was close.

As if you sensed it, you lifted your mouth off him with the loudest sounding pop either of you had heard, and to your delight, a thick thread of spit connected your mouth to his cock, watching as the heavy flesh fell on his stomach and he gave a relieved groan. "Thank you, thank you," he muttered softly, squeezing his fingers around your hair. Sliding your tongue along his underside, he was cursing once more as you only moved your lips to his sack, taking it into your mouth and sucking him hard that made his body jerk toward you. An out of breath laugh escaping him, licking his lips, opening his eyes to look at you. "I'm serious, if you did this with anyone else.... I wanna fight them. I'd lose, but sweetheart..." Oh, your hand was stroking him again, a wrangled cry leaving him, lips trembling, that fire burning him from the inside, the faster your hand went, feeling the pulse of his cock in his ears. "I'm gonna fight 'em, I'm gonna.... Every fucking one. Every... Jesus H. Christ, you just.... Just gotta, mm," how did his hips started jerking to your hand? The fuck he knew, but it felt good. "...gotta....gotta take came of me after... Please, please, please, please."

Letting your mouth release him, your hand moving to his waist, lips stretched in a smile as they ghosted over his cock, lapping against the ridge of his cock before sucking him gently along the swollen head. The sounds of his moans encourage you to stroke your hand up and down the throbbing length, taking his head in and out of your hungry mouth. You're ravenous with him, insatiable, even. You can't get enough, sometimes not even at school and you have to beg him to take you to the back of his van. He always gives in, now that he thinks about it, in between the mercy of your lips, your tongue, your mouth descending on him once more. Fuck, he felt so good so deep in your mouth, your throat, hand squeezing at his balls. Rubbing against him, making him shut his eyes. "F u c k !" he cried out, wavering, panting.

You weren't going to let up, the both of you realized, it wasn't a conscious decision on your part and all Eddie could do was take it, enjoy it, fall deeper and deeper into the fucking bliss of you. You were moaning, your eyes closed as you fell into the rhythm of sucking him off, fucking your throat on his cock, you had meant what you said — you weren't innocent. Not how they all viewed you as. "Oh, baby," his words slurring out, jaw tightened and teeth grit together as he seethed. Your name flew from his lips like a prayer — for his sanity. He was throbbing so much in your mouth... Hitting the back of your throat so perfectly, his hips started to jerk towards you. "Fuck, fuck fuck, you're so fucking perfect." His grip on your hair so tight, taking the hint, stilling your movements as his hips took over, bucking into your mouth. Gagging on him with every fierce thrust. Your nails digging into his stomach, making their mark and a strangled moan ripped out of him. "—so perfect. Like this... Like this, so... So fucking... Jesus fucking...Christ, I'm... You're just... Fuck, that's..."

His hips picking up speed, harder and harder as you looked over at him. At his face, seeing the sweat, the concentrated look on him. He looked beautiful like that, lost in the pleasure and it made your cunt throb knowing it was because of you. Making you moan louder, the sound of spit drenching his cock hitting your ears, dripping, chin slick. Always having to be perfect, hair just right, make up perfect, it felt so liberating to let go, to be a mess, and Eddie was the one that let you do so. You wanted him to cum, you wanted him to cum so badly...

And with one strangled moan from him, one hard thrust that filled your mouth to the brim, he did. Followed by another, and another, every moan louder, every thrust harder, his body tensing so much, feeling his insides on fire and his cock? Fuck. White hot pleasure, making him whine, even whimper. You felt so good, so fucking good, and he was sure he said so, in a rush of praises that fell from his lips, all words slurring together like he was drunk. And in a way, he was. Of you, and only you. Cock pulsing, twitching as the tip was just inside your throat, you felt his hand around your neck again. A light little squeeze as your eyes looked up, he was lost, of course, eyes closed but you still didn't take your eyes away. He felt thick and warm, erupting in shuddering waves right to your throat that you swallowed immediately. Loving how it felt, sliding down your throat. He was the one to cum, and so much, but you were the one that couldn't help but moan, feeling your cunt throb and clench, moving your head up and down slowly.

His words had died and he was left moaning, twitching inside your mouth, every movement, he felt himself spilling so fiercely. You loved it, loved it every time and that in itself made him groan as dark brown eyes looked down on you. ".....princess," he uttered so out of breath, you only moaned, sucking at his tip and hand twisted up and down the slick shaft, working him through his climax, hips jerking toward your mouth once more in short little movements. Sensitivity playing its part, it felt good, feeling you so desperate for every drop of him. There were moments where you genuinely craved the taste of him, something so unique. He tasted bitter, at first, but after a while, there was a sweetness to him as well, growing such an appreciation for both you could never really get enough, only when you felt him shake harder than before did you lift your head away, lips leaving him with a wet pop once more and let go, watching as his heavy, thick length fell onto his stomach, pulsing, twitching right there.

You swallowed the remains of him, sticking out your tongue to show him, both chuckling out of breath as you give the underside of his cock one last kiss. "Come here..." he whispered, still feeling the burn course through him, the fire you caused still wrecking havoc through him. You obeyed, of course, moving up on him and lips immediately on one another. His hand was still at your neck, and he squeezed gently once more, a joined moan from you both, shared between panting mouths and another from him as he tasted himself off your tongue. You were a mess, his tongue sliding from your mouth to across your lips, licking the spit that adorned your chin, jaw, nipping the skin gently.

"You don't have to fight anyone, you know..." you uttered softly. Watching as he pulled back, looking quizzically at you, you smiled. "No one else... I mean, when it comes to sucking someone off, you're... You're kind of the first. So, you're the only one that's experienced what my mouth could do like that."

The way his smile widened shouldn't be as cute as it was, the way his eyes lit up, "Shit. Really? Fuck. I mean, that's sad, sweetheart, because that?" He shook his head, kissing you deep, "Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his hand at your throat lowering, sliding over your breasts, towards your stomach and hips. Hiking your dress up above your hips, "Did I taste good?"

"Mmhm," you let out softly, the cold metal of his rings making you shiver against your heated skin as his hand slid along your inner thigh. "You always taste good to me."

"Yeah?" his breath heavy, turning to kiss at your neck. "You're always so eager... I bet you're wet, huh? Aching? First pretty girl I've met to get turned on sucking my cock, princess." And as he moved his hand between your legs, he chuckled softly, grinning against your flesh as you let out a soft moan, his fingers finding the wet spot of the panties you wore and he let out a hiss. "Oh, baby, you're soaked... Jesus fucking christ, that's hot. All for me?" He didn't need an answer, palming his hand against your soaked, clothed cunt. "Yeah, all for me." Your hips started to move against his hand, making him groan as he stilled it, letting you grind against it, feeling his hand grow slick, your soft little moans making him fucking feral.

You knew it made you look desperate, shameless, even. But Eddie never made you feel embarrassed for wanting him, being desperate for him to make you cum. He seemed to thrive on it, just like making him cum did for you. Making you want to try different things, be adventurous when it came to sex. You never felt ashamed for wanting to cum, for having that need, and you fucking loved him for it. You felt him kiss your neck more, his other hand holding you around your waist, wet, sloppy kisses that only made you more needy for him. He was right — blowing him had the effect of making your cunt soppy and so heated, the first few times you thought it was a bad thing. That there was something wrong with being so turned on pleasing someone else. But every moan he gave, every slurred word, it hit you right at your core and your body was helpless.

But he made you see it as a turn on for him as well, making him feel needed, that you enjoyed making him cum that much. Then you started to enjoy it, any ounce of shame evaporated each time you were together. His lips found their way to yours again, cupping his cheek as you kissed him, swallowing his groan, he was so vocal after he came and that was definitely part of why you liked making him cum. More affectionate, feeling the flat of his palm stroke your back. His hand, still between your legs moved, making him swallow your protesting whimper. He breathed a chuckle into your mouth, giving you one more full formed kiss before pulling back and fingers grasped the waistband of your panties, starting to tug them down.

"Mmm—"

"—hmm?"

A soft chuckle coming out of you, seeing his teasing grin, "I thought you were worried about us getting caught, out here in the open?" You saw as he bit his lip, his eyes a bit darker than they were before. "Or, does that only apply to me?"

Eddie let out a soft groan, pecking at your lips with gentle kisses, "'Course not. I still worry about you getting caught. But," he let out a sigh, his fingers continuing to pull your panties lower, as best as he could. "Sweetheart, that was before you made me cum in your mouth," his teeth flashing with his grin. Growing wider at the sound of your laughing, chuckling himself as you buried your face at the crook of his neck. Humming softly as he kissed your shoulder. "I just —" He took in a deep breath, "—I'm nice and relaxed now to worry too much about it?" Pulling back as you looked up at him with the prettiest smile he's seen so far. "Yeah, I don't want you seen or walked in on or get in trouble, not so much me, they expect it from me, but you, no, absolutely not."

"I think I've proven that I'm not the sweet, innocent girl people think I am, though..." You remind him, feeling fit to remind him again and again if that's what it took — and yes, out of your own pleasure as well.

The laugh he gave was deep, his eyes warm, raising his thumb to brush against your swollen bottom lip. "Oh, sweetheart, you did." Nodding with his brows raised, he repeated, "You did. But, I still don't want your pretty wrists in handcuffs, well, okay, handcuffs not by my hand, or dragging me off you because I would fight if it meant holding onto you a bit longer." You hummed, smiling as he pressed his lips against yours in yet another kiss — as if he could ever stop. "But saying that..." A deep breath taken, dark brown eyes looking to you. "...I'm feeling...a bit adventurous. You're making me want to take all sorts of risks, princess..."

It was too good, grinning up at him, you couldn't help it. "Am I ruining you?"

That grin hadn't left him, white teeth a permanent fixture on him at that moment. "Y e a h, God, y e a h," he chuckled, kissing your lips hard, letting out a breath hot against your lips. "You're such a bad influence... You're ruining the fuck outta me. So mean and scary... I'm very into that..."

"Mmm, what a sweet boy you are..." your teasing words said with a caress of his lips against yours. Hearing him hum, it almost sounding like a whine made your heart flutter. His fingers tighten around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slightly but not enough, not without your assisting him with it. "And...what risks did you wanna take now, pretty boy?" Wanting to hear him say it, needing to hear him say it...

He knew you needed to hear it, too. Letting out a soft growl, eyes darkened, smile stretched and turned wicked. His hand finally pushed your panties as far as he could manage, needing you to do away with them the rest of the way. That was the word, he needed it. Licking his lips, teeth biting his bottom lip for good measure, he gave such a wolfish smile. "You... On my face. Letting me taste and feel how messy you are, just because you love my cock, sweetheart." He moved back, laying further on the ground while his eyes didn't leave yours. Seeing your eyes darken and how hard you swallowed. Your body growing tense, and he swore, he could feel you grow hot. "And yeah, out here in the open, where anyone could walk by and see, and hear us. Making me forget and not care about the consequences of that... But I need it. I need you."

Every word he uttered, your eyes couldn't help but fall on his lips as he spoke, the sound of his voice traveling through you, hitting between your legs and making you throb. You nod, the words, I need you, too, just at the tip of your tongue but failed to slip off and into the air. Instead, it was said with the fierce kiss you laid on his lips, feeling a shudder run through you both. The slight feel of his cock, giving a twitch against your hip. He let out a groan as you pulled away, continuing where he left off. Feeling how wet you truly were, the fabric clinging to your soaked folds as you pulled them away, smiling over at him, knowing he would have enjoyed seeing it with his own eyes and in full view. But, you supposed, draping them over his cock would be the next best thing. Evident by the way he twitched under it once more, shared smiles between you both.

"C'mere...." he nearly whispered, watching as you moved toward him. The thin strap of your dress slid down your shoulder, reminding him that you had no bra underneath, that the dress was all that covered you and that was something he'd keep in mind. But, for now, as you moved toward him, taking care to not let your knees rest on his hair, pulling it back with one hand as your other hiked up your dress. His eyes almost twinkling at the sight of your bare cunt, a proud little hum flowing through him as his hands smoothed over your inner thighs. "F u c k," his words in a hushed whisper, as if more to himself than to you. His lips twitching in a smile, you can feel the fluttering in your stomach because of it, because he has that smile because of you. His tongue swiped across his lips, eyes still drinking you in. "Can't believe you get this wet for me, princess..." The way you glistened, he hadn't even touched you, no, this was because you were getting him off and that brought out a smile out of him. His fingers inching toward you, feeling you shudder under his touch. The drag of the metal rings against your skin, feeling yourself growing hot. You needed him. You needed him.

His fingers were mere inches from your folds, yet still, he looked up at you, brows furrowing, and you knew he was asking permission. You nodded, slowly, biting your lip and preparing yourself for his touch. It comes slow, at first. Delicate little traces along your folds, toying with the wetness, swallowing hard as fingers move back and forth, dipping along the wet flesh, drenching his fingertips in your heated mess. His eyes mesmerized by it, the feel of you shooting right through him and to his cock. Pulsing. Twitching. As if to thank you, he moves to kiss your hip, biting you gently there that makes you gasp softly. It made him smile, fingers now slick moving toward your clit. Slowly. Gently. Two fingers sliding over, making your hips jerk immediately with a soft sound from your lips.

You were so cute, he thought. Grinning against your hip, still, swirling those fingers against you, smooth circles, you felt like silk underneath his calloused fingers. Sending sharp shivers through you, closing your eyes as your breathing hitched, his tongue licking against the flesh of your hip now, his hot breath followed as he continued his ministrations. His fingers drove you crazy, yours were too soft, as were your past boyfriends, so soft, but his were rough, not clumsy, but skilled, playing you as he did his guitar. The feel of his teeth added to it, as he bit you with a groan. Your breath panting, hips moving so gently against his fingers, his movements slow, making you want more. As if he sensed it, his fingers started to pick up. Not too much, sliding back and forth, your slick helping in the smooth motions as he kissed your hip more, letting his lips glide against your skin, toward your stomach. Hearing your soft panting pick up as well, a soft groan against your stomach now. He loved to hear your moans... —

"E d d i e," you let out, in a warning or plea, you honestly weren't sure. But he smiled against your stomach either way, the soft breath of his chuckle hitting you, lifting his eyes to see that pout on your face. Adorable. Biting at your skin, feeling you shudder in his embrace as his hand moved. Slick fingers gliding from your clit and through your folds, a deep hum vibrating against your stomach. You could feel your walls clench in anticipation, your teeth biting your bottom lip and eyes closed. His fingers finding your opening, sinking them into you — slowly, as a growl settled from his lips — "Ah..." the word came from your lips, delicate, uneven. Feeling the stretch of his thick fingers, as if your cunt as impatient as you were getting, drawing his fingers deeper. "Shit..."

"Jesus fucking Christ..." the words said with a deep chuckle, almost dark, just as was the shade of his brown eyes as he looked up at you, a lustful gaze burning just for you. Gazes connect, though it was growing difficult, keeping your eyes on him as he dragged his fingers in and out of you. Walls clenched around him so tightly, as if embracing him. As if it hadn't been only a day since he filled you with his fingers and cock. Every gentle thrust sending a wave through you, a panting breath, a soft little moan. He was going to be hard for you, again, he knew, though he wanted to take his sweet time. Draw out the orgasm from you slowly, or until he lost control like he so often did. With a groan, he laid his head back, drawing your hips a bit closer, darkened eyes looking down your body, right where his fingers disappeared inside you. Cock twitching, pulsing to life. You shouldn't affect him like this, but you do, seeing how your stomach clenched the deeper his fingers went, burying them knuckle deep and curving them.

There was a low rumble, though it felt distant to you both. His eyes transfixed by your cunt, feeling you so tight around him, how wet and heated, tongue poking out, licking his bottom lip. You wished you could take your dress off, the feel of him inside you making your skin heat up, chest heaving with quickened breath. Pleasure, the kind only he brought out, swept right through you, getting lost in it so much that the thought of someone seeing you just slipped away from you. Your own hand moving forward, grasping his curls at the top of his head and clutched tightly. Just to have something to anchor you to reality, feeling you'd float away as his fingers continued to stroke themselves along your clenched walls, your moans a little louder each time, entangled with your panting breath. If your eyes were open, you'd see a flash of white light, though all you could hear was the sound of your sopping cunt drench his fingers, a smile on your face as a soft cry escaped you, body shaking at the feel of his calloused thumb swipe across your clit, bending forward as he kept doing it. "F u c k, Eddie..."

You couldn't see how he smiled, a mix of awe and wickedness. Dark brown eyes trained on your cunt, seeing his fingers at work. You really were...so beautiful like this. Every sound you make made his heart swell with pride. Calvin couldn't do this. According to you, that meathead wouldn't dare. He curved his fingers inside you more, looking for that spot, that precious that made you — There it was, your cries louder and your fingers pulled at his hair that made him groan in appreciation. "Shit!," you cried out, red hot, feeling your body pulse, thighs beginning to shake, and he only pressed and rubbed against it more, your jaw tensed, "Oh God, that... Shit.." You both could hear the wet friction of his movements. "That's...." Your words halted as his thumb picked up speed against your clit, movements quick, and wet, so fucking wet and the most primal sounds poured out of your lips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, don't..."

"I won't stop, sweetheart..." came his voice, to your utter relief. You nodded, feeling his hand at the back of your hips, pulling you closer. Looking at you like this, moaning and wet around his fingers, the feel of you so tight around him the deeper he was inside you. The moans spilling from your lips weren't the only primal thing between you, his mind going hazy, the need for your taste growing until he brought you close enough to slip his fingers out of you, growling at the feel of your cunt so reluctant to feel him go, clinging to him to the last second. "I know, baby, I know, but I just gotta..." he groaned, hands splayed at your thighs and with encouragement, pressed the sweet, messy cunt against his mouth. Hearing your shaky breath, he hummed, first kissing your clit and tongue slid out, the flat of it sliding across it. His fingers tightening along your flesh, a gasp from your lips. He moaned, breathing heavy against you, the tip of his tongue circling along your clit, then, encouraging you to move, allowing his tongue to move between your folds, taste some of the mess that he caused. And it was the sweetest mess he's tasted of you so far.

You've never had someone so eager to taste you like this, it made sense, since you were always so eager to use your mouth on him. It was a delightful give and take between the two of you, and now he was certainly taking. You closed your eyes to the darkening sky, ignored the shiver of the cold, how could you take notice when his tongue trailed closer towards your hole, pulling you closer upon his face and you felt the tip of his nose nudge against your clit as the tip of his tongue push into you. A shaky breath seeped from you, causing your hips to rock gently against him, pushing him further inside. Feeling his tongue stiffen, the vibration of his moan traveling up against you. Every gentle rock of your hips has his nose moving against your clit, bring about gentle waves of pleasure to course through you, making you feel heat, warming you to the touch.

Eddie did like you like this, coherent thought leaving your head and only to react to what his actions were doing to you. He was the same, and fuck, you tasted sweeter the deeper his tongue was inside you. His name kept falling from your lips, strained, each time causing his cock to throb and a moan pressed against your pretty little cunt. He's admit, he'd not had a lot of experience, not a lot of girls, at the very least to the point of maybe having to exaggerate here and there with his friends, but your pussy? Your cunt? The prettiest fucking pussy he's ever seen, shivers running up and down his spine as you rocked it against his tongue, his mouth, your fingers in his hair, pulling slightly made him groan. Gripping you tightly as he slid his tongue in and out of you just a little faster. So soft and wet, tasting you, fuck, how sweet you were.

You were driving him crazy, and he was doing the same to you. Pleasure gripping at you, tightly, clawing at your insides as you started to pant and moan. He was reluctant to pull away, a small cry leaving your lips, desperate for more, but it was short lived as his tongue trailed to your clit once more. Lapping against it, flickering over it quickly and another cry left your lips — this time of relief. "Jesus fuck—" tumbled from your lips, his dark eyes on you as your eyes were closed, forgetting the world, just him, just his tongue, and as the cold metal of his rings traveled further up your thighs and you felt yourself tensing with anticipation.

He didn't make you wait long, you were so wet, so slick, there was hardly any resistance when he buried two of his thick fingers inside you. "God, f u c k, yes..." you panted out, thighs quivering as he curled his fingers as his mouth captured and sucked sloppily on your clit, reaching, caressing that special spot that made your hips jerk forward, a cry erupting from your lips. Feeling his ringed fingers inside you, slowly sliding in and out of you, your wetness claiming them and the pressure on your clit as he sucked grew stronger. "Fuck... F u c k, Eddie, Eddie..." your voice whined, as he moaned, his other hand moving, smacking against the flesh of your ass and gripped you there. Nodding wordlessly as he let go of your clit, stiffened his tongue against it, and you slowly started to move your hips again. His fingers stilled as well, sliding in and out of you through your movements alone, moving deeper, faster as your moans fell from your lips at the feeling of him deep inside you, angling to hit you there, rubbing your clit against his tongue as well. Fucking yourself on him, showing him how desperate you were becoming, just for him. You both loved that.

He wished he could grip himself, stroke his cock to you, but his eyes were hazy, watching your face as you moved, led by desire and lust. You were so fucking perfect, he moaned against your cunt, once in a while flicking his tongue over that bundle of nerves, feeling it pulse against him. Curling his fingers a bit more, stroking the insides of your walls clenching around his digits so tightly. "Such a perfect fucking pussy..." he breathed hotly against you, moaning as he sucked and sucked, feeling you tremble at his words. His girl loved to be praised, he thought with a smile. "Don't hold back, baby..." he breathed, taking a moment to raise his mouth at your hip, biting hard at the flesh, hoping to leaving a mark, praying to leave a mark. "I want you to cum, I want you to cum so bad."

You were close, especially as his other hand slid forward and gave attention to your clit, "Oh, fuck," you practically growled, not only feeling his fingers inside you, but not to your throbbing clit, the joint pleasure of it, concentrating on moving against his fingers inside you, body trembling as he added a third finger, you were sure you were going to come undone. Body tightly wound, succumbing to the waves he was giving you, this time, you did hear the thunder, eyes opening wide as you caught a flash of light hit across the sky. "Shit," you let out, jaw slack as his fingers picked up, thrusting in and out of you harder, making you gasp and pant. "N—oh, fuck, Eddie... Shit... Fuck," moans strangled within a laugh you wanted to let go. "It's...." Words were failing you, grasping at the back of his head, for a moment only hearing your own wetness ring out, coating his fingers, "Ed—Eddie, it's... Jesus fuck, that feels..."

He was lost in it, as were you, the sounds of your cries seeping from your lips so seamlessly, one after the other, was his only concern, even with the first few raindrops. You didn't feel the cold, just the white hot heat that was coursing through you, eyes closing once more, body stilling and growing tense. "Yes, yes, fucking christ," the rain was gentle at first, a light drizzle, easy to ignore. At first, anyway. But his fingers continued, his teeth biting at your hip getting harder, a fine mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you, making you let out a loud whimper. Your fingers squeeze along his hair tighter, as his lips trail back to your clit, steadily flicking his tongue over it, humming deep against you. Giving you the jolt of pleasure you apparently needed, your hips moving, soon enough riding his tongue as he kept it still.

The rain started to pick up, raining down harder the more deep into it the two of you became, closer to unraveling you were. Dripping over his mouth, his fingers, feeling his free hand stroking the bare flesh of your ass. You could feel your hair and that dress getting wet, starting to weigh you down, a shiver running through you but not knowing if it was because of the rain or Eddie's tongue, or the way his finger curled and hit you just right, making you shut your eyes and let out a cry. Your body shuddered, feeling cold and hot at the same time. Did he know it was raining? He didn't let up. You could hear him moaning, stilling your hips as his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked hard and unforgiving, bringing out the most primal sounds from your lips. The sound of thunder drowning it out for the most part, gripping his hair, an attempt to pull him away. "Eddie... Eddie, the rain, I... Shit... The rain..."

But you only felt the clap of his hand against your ass, hard, a warning, letting out a gasp as you looked down. Dark brown eyes staring up at you. A whine left you, as he furrowed his brow. Understood, biting your lip and you give a nod. Starting to let go, his hands gripped where he held you, tongue flickering against you, catching your taste as you moaned helplessly. Breathless. Louder. Your walls clenching around his fingers as he buried them deep. That little spot. That perfect little spot. "Oh, god, oh...fuck, yes, right there..." Each breath you let out sounding shaky, him growling, feeling your thighs start to shake. That was the only movement he let you have, kissing against your clit sloppily. The pads of his fingertips stroking along that spot, feeling your body tense up each time, stilling your hips as it wanted to jolt at every stroke.

He knew it was raining, he did, it was hard not to. But was harder was for him to stop, his mind a haze with every sound of your moan. Every squeeze of his fingers, every taste his tongue could find. He was going to make you cum.

He was going to make you cum.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you groaned, panting for breath in the heavy rain, it pouring down at the both of you. Some of the rain dropped onto your tongue, crisp and clear, yet you could still hear yourself, even with the thunder, the flash of lightning behind your closed eyes. How wet you were for him, as he pumped his fingers harder into you, stroking his fingers inside you, harder and harder, tongue matching the pace as good as he could. The vibrations of his groans, hums, making you a moaning mess, crying out with every release of your breath. "There, there, there, fuck, you shouldn't be so good at that, you should be so good—shit, shit, there, fuck, yes—!" You couldn't help it, feeling yourself bend forward, over his head and grasping at the wet grass. You were cumming. Words escaping you, sneaking up on you so suddenly, not able to tell him, but fuck if he knew.

Thrusting his fingers faster, making you scream into the wet ground, your lips finding the top of your wrist and biting down. The build up so sweet, so painful, so needed, when you came it was hard and fast, a whimpering cry coming from you, your walls squeezing around his fingers thrust so deep inside you, as if embracing him in thanks. He groaned, kissing your clit, your inner thigh and biting you there, making your hips jolt slightly. "Good girl," he let out, making you want to cry. "You're such a fucking good girl, princess..." You hissed softly, whining when you felt his fingers stroke you still, but gently, slowly, working you until you could gather yourself, your body spent but still eager for more, moving against him until he slowly withdrew them.

He gave your hip a gentle kiss before slipping out from behind you, letting you lay in your stomach a moment. Your mind was in a wet haze, the cold water raining down making you shiver against your heated body. He stayed close, one hand stroking your ass while the other reached toward your face, still slick and coated with your sweetness, it didn't take much from you to wrap your lips around them, greedily, deep into your mouth, humming at the taste of yourself on them — mixed with the rain. It made him smile, nice and wide as he bent over and kissed the crook of your neck. "God, that's my girl," he muttered against your ear, you letting out a hum. Still blissed out, but responsive. His now free hand grasping your hip, bare and wet, you both were at this point. Squeezing your hip, he kissed below your ear, looking at the van. "We can get back at the van. I got blankets, we can—" But you let out a huff, turning around and capturing his lips in a kiss that took his breath away. "Baby..."

It wasn't smart, or logical, his proposition was actually kind of nice. You knew he had a mattress as well, for when he wanted to be alone, and recently, those included being alone with you. But the adrenaline was still coursing through you, still feeling good because of him. "Fuck me..." you whispered against his lips, and he growled, his grip on you tightening. His cock hard from watching you come undone just mere moments before. You could still feel your clit pulsing, a bit of sensitivity to be had. But you didn't care. You wanted him. Needed him. "Right here... Fuck me..."

Jesus Christ.

He should say no, that it was still risky, but that same adrenaline that ran through you was running through him. "My princess wants to get fucked in the rain?" You had nodded, pulling him in for another kiss, returning it in full. Shit. It was something he hadn't done before, in the rain, out in public. It was....enticing enough, but now, he just needed to be inside you. Feel you close, make you feel good. His mind a mess, as he was sure yours was too, he ended the kiss, trailing his lips over the curve of your neck, fingers raised to pull down the straps of your dress. You didn't have a bra. He remembered that, watching as you lifted yourself and your dress peeled down your body, turning to face him and watched as your breasts came into view. "Jesus...fucking... Christ," he growled, watching in time as your lips came to his again.

You felt cold, yet it was his warmth that sustained you, the wet fabric of your dress around your waist, settling yourself between his legs as he sat on the ground. You were tired before, the strength of your climax taking a lot out of you. But the thought of him inside you drove you forward, tongue sliding into his waiting mouth as you settled onto him. His hands reaching toward your hips, resting at the back of your thighs. Gripping you tightly, his hum swallowed by you in your kiss. He pulled your hips forward, the slick of your folds sliding along the underside of his hardened cock, resting against his stomach, brought a gasp from you both. You felt warm, heated and wet, even as the cold rain poured down on you both. You could feel the veins of his cock just slightly, as one movement of your hips turned to another, your hands moving to his shoulders, gripping him tightly. You had no business feeling this good, he thought. Making him groan and grunt as his hands were no longer needed, sliding them away from you as your hips continued, your folds parted and grinding against his cock.

It was a teasing movement, but he just couldn't stop, not yet, as heated breaths were shared between you two. He felt so good, too. You pressed down against him, movements first short and teasing, now longer, languid in their movements, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you as the head of his cock met and rubbed against your clit. He liked how you shuddered each time, how soft your moan was against his lips, soft and needy, making his heart race. His hands gripping at the grass below him, leaning back slightly and letting you take over. "You're like a fucking Angel, Sweetheart," he muttered, a soft whine from your lips following, as you went faster. It was his turn to shudder, falling deeper into what you were doing to him.

With the rain, it was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, for the both of you, leading one another with touch alone. The throb of his cock meeting the throb of your clit, you let out a soft whimper, feeling your pussy ache, walls clenching around nothing. He felt good, clit pulsing and sending shocks of pleasure through you... But it wasn't enough. Your hands raising from his shoulders to the back of his neck, tangling fingers into his hair as you kissed him deep, a joined moan between you. "I need you inside me, baby..." you whined against his mouth, a whimper coming from him. "Please? Please, Eddie, baby, please..."

A soft chuckle rolls out from him, "Fuck, love it when you call me baby like that..." How could he refuse? Releasing his grip on the grass, hands dirty as he moved over to your body, wet and slick with the rain, turning his lips to the side of your neck, giving a hard bite and a kiss. Your lips by his ear, humming as you let out a groan at the bite, his hands just touching your skin, feeling oddly warm against his touch. "Tell me you want it, princess... Tell me how bad you want it..."

You hissed, desperate, pleading, trying to move your hips but his hands gripped them suddenly, making you still. A pitiful sound coming out of you, chest rising and falling in short huffs. "I want it..." He tutted, and you knew that wasn't good enough, squirming in his grip. "...I want your cock, Eddie..." He took a deep breath, and you knew that was better. "I want your cock so bad inside me... Deep..." He let out a soft moan, kissing your neck again, making you shiver. "I want it so deep it hurts. Cunt aching for you... I need you. I want you."

Your words were sweet to his ears, enough for his cock to pulse and throb, wanting your sweet cunt as well. "Fuck..." he breathed out, tongue sliding along the pulse of your neck and sucking on it hard. Wanting a mark to appear the next day, grasping the base of his cock. "Such a good girl...." The tip of him sliding back and forth against your folds, and he could hear the gasp against his ear so crisply, even with the sound of the hard water raining down. He dreamed of your moans, your gasps, your cries, making him wake up harder than he ever had been before you. "I'm gonna give my baby what she wants... Will that make my baby girl happy?"

"Mmhm," you let out, pathetically, gripping his hair tighter, your breath hitched in the anticipation of it. Your legs spreading further, the thoughts of before, of being caught, you almost wished they did. That Cal did. Every one of your snobby friends that ditched you, that only cared when you wanted to be who they wanted you to be. To be with who they deemed worthy. You wanted them to see how happy Eddie God Damn Munson made you feel... Feeling the tip of him right at your opening, a soft huff leaving your lips, his bite on your neck adding to the feel of you sinking down on his cock. Feeling the vibrations of his groan against your neck, your breath hitching as you take him slowly. Thick. Bigger. It was always a stretch the first time he sinks into you.

You're tight for him, driving him hazy and lustful, his cock throbbing already and he'd only have his tip inside you. "Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart..." he breathed against your neck, a whining brought out from you. His hands at your hips, only to be swatted away from your hands. It made him smile, a soft little laugh escaping as he pulled away from you, wanting to take control but knowing you were a determined little thing. Stubborn. He fucking loved that about you. "Okay, baby, okay..." he assured you, once again taking his hands off and leaning slightly back, your hands gripping at his wet shirt. Nodding toward you, he hummed, "All you, princess. Take every single inch... My cock is so fucking yours..."

There was a light giddiness at his words, giving a determined nod, your hand going toward one of your thighs, bracing yourself, as you continued to sink down on this length. "Fuck..." you let out, more to yourself than anything, every inch bringing a stretch inside you, feeling him shudder, feeling him pulse as your walls stretched to fit him, clenching so tightly as well. "Oh, God..." He always left you breathless, this time no different, and he watched you in awe — well, watched your pussy in awe, he should say. Swallowing hard, water dripping down his nose, watching, appreciating, groaning as he felt himself go deeper and deeper into you. So wet and warm. And Eddie, so hard and thick, your slickness coating him the further he went, and you were doing good, so good. Panting, whimpering slightly. "Eddie, you feel...so good, fuck... Baby... Baby..."

"...you're... Oh, fuck, you're doing so good..." he encouraged you, thunder rolling in, though it was definitely in the back of his mind. "Wanna fuck up into you already, so bad..." And god, he did, the feel of you so perfect. Better than he thought he deserved. "But baby, you can do it... God, you can fucking do it. I believe in you. Princess you always take me so perfectly... Shit. Keep going, sweetheart. Be my good girl, alright? Be my good—"

His words cut off, pushing through his words, a cry wrangled from both of you, your eyes shut tight. You did it. His good girl did it. And there was a sense of pride, feeling so fucking full of him, every inch, all of his girth, settled deep and entirely inside you. Rewarded with the feel of his hands at your hips, his eyes remained open, looking to the bliss expression on your face. No one's ever made him feel this good. so hot, so wet, so tight around him. "That's it... That's fucking..." He groaned, his voice lightly strained, pecking at your cheek as you let out a moan. Impatient already, feeling your move against him, entranced with the feel of his swollen head at the deepest part of you, that special place that no one else had touched. Not even by your own fingers. Only Eddie. And he knew it, the way you bit your bottom lip, moving back and forth, a teasing touch against that very spot.

You two were the same, you must be, as he growled against your cheek, guiding your hips to a more confident pace. Watching as you furrowed your brow, lips parting to let out soft little moans — fuck, he loved those little moans. Your cunt was taking him well, his cock moving inside you easier. You grabbed his shoulders once more, your breath coming out harder, faster. "Shit. Fuck. You're so—" A surprised gasp came out of you, he grabbed your hips, pulled you closer and pushed himself inside you, "Oh, fuck! Eddie...." His breath was hot against your cheek, closing his eyes as he settled into a pace, slamming his hips as deep as he could, driven by your moans, flashes of light running across the sky, thunder booming in the distance. But you didn't care, all you could care about was the sound of his hips hitting against you, of his cock slamming and hitting that spot, that fucking spot, that made your thighs quiver.

The way your cunt clenched around his cock the deeper he went, his fingers gripping you tighter and tighter. It was addicting, groans pushing past his lips with heated breath. His eyes closed, completely taken by the feel of you around his cock. So tight, feeling your pussy flutter around him. But Calvin's words hit him suddenly, and a growl escaped him, his hips snapping harder against you, causing you to cry out. It wasn't jealousy, really, that hits him, that knowing that meathead had you once. You two were kind of the IT couple in school, he remembered, envious, kind of. But him coming at Eddie like he did, as if being with him was so horrible for you, it made him burn. "Did your pal, Cal ever fuck you like this, Princess?" his voice deep, hard like gravel.

It took you a moment to register the words, so caught up in the pleasure his cock was giving you. Almost too much, almost not enough. The way his cock slammed against you, sending waves of pleasure to consume every part of you, making your mind hazy, only thinking of Eddie and how full he made you. Yeah, it took a moment for his words to hit you, to unfurl in your mind to the point of comprehension. When it did, your brows furrowed, giving a squeeze of your fingers in his wet hair. "I... What?" Did Cal...?

"Did..." His hips snapping harder, "Cal...." Again, harder, your body moving with the impact, feeling his cock throb, making him shudder with a groan. "....fuck you...." He hissed at the next thrust, squeezing you tight. "....like this?"

"...Oh, God..." your words a hushed gasp, an rolling whimper falling from your lips, words lost to you as he continued his movements, thrusting into you harder. He heard every word, your lips by his ear, every little cry, sob, moan. Your body feeling on fire, no longer feeling the cold of the rain pouring down on you both, still. It getting harder and harder the longer you two were fucking. Gathering yourself, you squeeze around him, shaking your head. "N—No... No, no...." you finally answered, a sob threatening to halt your words. "Not like this..." your words slurring, feeling how he pulsed when buried so deep inside you. "Only you... Only you've fucked me....like this...."

An approving hum settled out of him, an ease on his heart, moving down and biting your shoulder, smoothing it with a kiss. "He's never....shit, you're so fucking tight...." Losing himself temporarily with the heavily feel of your pussy gripping him so... fuck. "Shit... He's never....made you feel this good?"

"No..." a soft laugh escaping you. "No one has.... You feel so fucking good..."

"How? Tell me..."

You groaned, burying your face at his neck, finding your hips meeting his. The feel of him overwhelming, but needing more of him. That desperate need always there. Did Cal really messed him up that much? "....you're thick. So fucking thick... Fuck!" You cry out, as he had let out a growl and snapped his hips against you. Swallowing hard, you try to continue. "I... Um... The way you kiss me.... I get wet from your kiss alone sometimes... The uh... You touch me, more than he did... Get me wet, get me soaking... The way you taste me, eating me out, determined to make me cum more than once... Yet you're blown away when I want to blow you..." A breathless laugh comes out of you, and you can feel him smile. "It's... It's really fucking cute, sometimes... You care...when you're fucking me... It's not....just getting your dick wet... you care about me. Care about how I'm feeling... And it..." You were struggling, he had stopped, laying down on the wet ground, allowing your hips to move. A gentle rising and falling on his cock, every descent down taking your breath away.

"Go on," he said in a strained voice, his hands finding your hips, stroking the skin gently. It was difficult, to make out your body, the harder you brought yourself down on his cock, the harder the rain seemed to pour. Brighter, was the lightening, and that helped, that definitely helped, a groan falling from his lips at every flash of light that gave him the view of your breasts,bouncing lightly as you went, the way your eyes were closed so tight, lips parted, letting out moan after moan, trying so hard to come up with the words he wanted to hear you say... His eyes traveling down, seeing your stomach clenching every time you took him deep. He moaned, eyes half lidded, pleasure coursing through him. You felt so tight and perfect. There was another flash and he saw his own cock, sucked in by your cunt.

You were right, he did care. Eddie Munson loved seeing how good he made you feel. It wasn't entirely selfless, he'll admit. There was pride, a stroking of his ego when he heard the sounds you made. Felt how wet you were... The other girls, they... God, they didn't feel like you. Weren't as excited as you. Not as tight, not as warm, not nearly as wet as you got. They definitely weren't eager to suck his cock like you did, either. He'd fucked before, but with you? It was different, it was new... Watching you take his cock, bouncing on it harder and harder, it made him throb and pulse, a burning to cascade all over him. The thunder rolled, louder and louder, his chest heaving almost in time with it.

His cock would be your undoing, in more ways than one. The way your walls clenched around him, squeezing him tighter and tighter.... It wouldn't be long, and you were almost sad about the fact. "I..." you swallowed hard, trying to remember where you had left off, before distracted by the feeling of his cock, simply inside you, deeper, he told you to go on, but you could hardly think outside of wanting to cum. "....fuck, I love having you inside me, Eddie.... Shit.... I can't..." Your movements quickening, a sob coming out as you leaned forward, keeping him deep.

He hissed, his grip on your hips tightening, just holding on, letting you move on your own. "It's okay, baby.... Fuck, princess...." Your hands reaching around him, your face buried at the crook of his neck and feeling the heated breath of your moans made his eyes roll back. His cock was pulsing more, throbbing, wanting to feel you cum all over his cock. He wouldn't last long, the feel of you squeezing around him tightly, your sweet body moving so desperately on him. "...I love it when I'm inside you, too, sweetheart..." His voice barely a whisper, moving to kiss just below your ear with a hum. "Your cunt so perfect for me... Taking my cock so well... So wet and tight... Watching you ride it, take it because you love it so much, don't you?"

"Y e s..." you let out in a moan, his words making your hips go faster, the sound of thunder hitting your ears, but the sweet sound of his moans hitting you deeper. Making you whimper, encouraging you to keep going, the tip of his cock grazing that spot, filling you with that clawing pleasure. Sparking from within you, making you cry out every time it hits just right. "I fucking love it... How you feel... Oh, God, I love your cock so much..." Your fingers almost pierces his skin, bouncing on his cock once more, the feel of wet skin as hips collide, filling your ears and senses.

He could feel his stomach clenching, grunting, growling, as the pleasure filled you, he could feel it in his blood and bones, his chest stinging, inhaling deep the cold, wet air and he didn't care. Your words filled him with such pride, your cunt so sweet around him, he bit your neck, growling once more as you let out a cry. "Whose cock do you fucking love, princess? Hm?" His lips biting their way over your jaw, feeling himself throb and pulse inside you, "Baby, you feel so good," he muttered under his breath, rasping. "Mmm... Such a sweet little cunt... Tell me, baby, whose cock do you love so fucking much you can't help but take it like a good girl?"

His words and cock getting out a sob out of you, your breath shuddering, white heated pleasure coursing through you, feeling it to your fingertips, to your toes as they curled, yet your body went on, faster and faster, rising and falling on his thick length that felt so slick inside you now. "Y o u r s," you let out in a mangled cry. You felt him shaking his head with a groan, a hand slapping your ass hard, your body jolted and you let out a despairing cry. "But — oh, f u c k, baby —" you gasped, feeling the tightness starting to form at your stomach, not knowing if it was the rain or tears rolling down your cheeks. "Baby... Baby it's your cock—"

"Say my fucking name, Princess." His voice low, deep, his eyes opened and dark, only illuminated by the flash of lightning then. "I wanna hear you say my name."

"I..." A gasp escaping as his hand smacked your ass once more, the stinging pain lingering, a moan following as the pain mingled with the pleasure. "...Eddie..." you let out, eyes opening to see his face, not quite pleased, rectifying that as you let out, "....Eddie Munson..."

Fuck, that made him purr with utter fucking delight. Gripping your hips tight, bucking his hips up to meet yours. Making you pant, making him let out a guttural moan. "Mmm, that's right.... Whose cock is making you feel so good right now?"

"Oh, fuck... Eddie Munson's..."

"Whose cock so fucking belongs to you?"

You couldn't help but smile at that, a hiss and groan following. "Mmm, Eddie Munson's..." Your joined movements driving him deeper if possible, causing waves to crash over the both of you. The two of you feeling the other's impending climax, felt how you both shivered against each other's touch, working together. Matching each movement, each breath, each moan. You couldn't help it, the words falling from your lips, "...whose cunt is yours, Eddie?" The words almost a whine, his hips snapping hard at that, making your cry out. "Whose cunt squeezes around you so tight, loves you so much, gets so wet... Wanting... Oh god, fuck, wanting..." You felt your thighs start to quiver, a sharp wave washing over you in warning. Walls squeezing his length, feeling his chest rise and fall quick. Thunder, lightning, the rain pouring down harder and harder, steadily on the two of you. "...wanting..." You had to get it out, "Oh, god, wanting to feel you..." A strained whimper making you trail off, feeling his hips move, fucking you harder, faster, a sob rolling out of your mouth. "...oh...fucking....god...!" Growling, meeting his hips with the same fervor, he wasn't making it easy. "...wanting... to feel you...fill it...so deep...so much...every...every fucking drop—"

"Jesus fucking Christ..." he groaned, saying your name, over and over like a prayer. "Yours, yours, so fucking yours..." His voice gravelly, husky, "I'm gonna...I'm gonna fucking give it to you, too. Sweet little cunt gonna take every fucking drop, squeeze me so much, gonna...fucking.... Jesus, fucking..." Growling deep, he paused, reaching for his jacket that was on the ground. Wet, but still a barrier between the grass and you, as he he moved you to lay on your back. Kissing your neck as he did, sorrowfully slipping out of you, though he chuckled lightly at your protesting whine. "So fucking cute..." he muttered, kissing your lips. "Don't worry, sweetheart... You'll get exactly what you want. You always do, baby..."

You seemed satisfied, as he was between your legs, his wet cock sliding along your drenched folds. But for a moment, he was distracted, the sight of your breasts in view. A soft smile coming over him, as if he could go on and not pay them a little attention? Bending down and laying a tender kiss at the soft flesh, he let out a groan as his tongue lapped against the hardened tit, wrapping his lips and sucking gently. You arched your back, pressing it firmer against his mouth. The cold metal of his rings, colder for the rain and wind that started to pick up, make you shiver as it grasps your other breast. Squeezing, pinching your tit, an electric shock shooting straight to your core, but it only made you whine. Feeling his heavy cock against your folds, sliding over your swollen, pulsing clit, but your walls clenched around nothing. Missing his cock, needing him more than you did before.

It only struck him then that his shirt was still on, popping off your tit to take it off. You could barely see the exposed skin, how soft it looks, pale, but the ink of his tattoos had never been more crisp and clear to your vision in comparison. Your fingers reaching up to trace over them, as he rolls his shirt and puts it beneath your head, an attempt at comfort. It makes your heart soar, and eyes close in relief as he slides so easily inside you once more. A relieved moan coming from you both, his fingers come to your mouth and you open them without a single thought. Pressing his fingers inside, two of them, sucking and wetting them immediately before he slides them out.

You feel his lips on yours, kissing him back immediately as your hands find his forearms, clinging to them tightly. You find his fingers, the ones that were just in your mouth, touching your clit. Your moan is swallowed immediately, hips involuntarily moving against the way the pads of his fingertips swirl in little circles over it. His cock moving in and out of you in a slow pace, filling you deep, hiking your legs over his hips. His other hand slides towards your neck, wrapping around it and squeezing at the sides, giving you a dizzying feeling, the vibrations of your groan felt by him, making him end the kiss with a bite of your lower lip, tugging it with a growl. "Princess...."

"...Mmm?" you mustered, your chest rising up and down, the slow pace of his cock torture, the build from moments before was a dull ache, wanting to strike up again.

"Whose cock...do you love?"

Shit. A rising breath, a swallow felt by his hand at your throat, humming softly, "Eddie Munson's."

You were rewarded with a sharper snap of his hips, a sharp moan leaving you. "Good girl..." he growled, kissing your lips. Thunder was roaring, lips finding your neck as he bite hard, making you whine and yelp. Hips moving a bit faster, not too much, though it was difficult to restrain himself. "Your pussy feels so fucking good, baby... Fuck..." He could feel you squeezing him, having his hips stutter forward, feeling too good to resist. "Jesus fucking Christ..." Pulsing, throbbing inside you, his hips picking up in speed, groaning deep, finding himself chasing the high. His cock hitting you deep so perfectly, squirming underneath him, your moans and cries hitting his ears before anything else. "Oh, baby, am I making you feel fucking good?"

"Yes, yes, yes," and he was, that tightening building again, steady and fast. "So, so fucking good..."

He bit his lip, his cock not the only thing swollen at the words. He wondered if you did that on purpose, said shit like that for his ego or just...because you couldn't help it. He was afraid to ask, but now, right at that moment, he was led by your moans, your cries, and the feel of your fucking cunt as he fucked you. Harder. Faster. Ragged breath flowing between you both, his lips and teeth at your shoulder, biting on the flesh hard. "Fuck, fuck, f u c k! Such a sweet fucking.... Shit..." His words hot against your shoulder, he could feel his heart, pulsing and beating hard against his chest, his hips moving seamlessly, a continuous motion, and god, it was driving you crazy. Your nails had dug into his skin, sure to leave a mark, and the thought made him smile. "Whose making you feel so fucking good right now, sweetheart?"

"Eddie.... Fuck.... Eddie Munson..." you said in a daze, your back arched, white heat filling you, the height of pleasure, rising higher and higher. "Such a fucking...perfect...fucking cock..." you hissed, closing your eyes, letting it all wash over you, taking you to where you needed. Words falling from your lips, "Filling me up so fucking good, Eddie... Want so much of you inside me, leaking, making such a fucking mess..."

He groaned, loved it when you talked like that. It drove him crazy, you, who everyone thought was so sweet, and you were, at school, the sweetest girl... Yet with his cock inside you, pounding into you like he was now... He chuckled, "Such a pretty, filthy girl... Loving my cock so much... You never beg like this or talk so dirty with those jocks do you?" You only shook your head, making him groan, quickening his fingers on your clit, enjoying the sound of your cries because of it. "No, no, my girl loves my cock the best. Oh, sweetheart... I'm gonna fill you up so much... You're gonna be leaking of me for a fucking week."

"Oh, fuck, yes... Yes, please... Shit..." You should be ashamed at the thought turning you on so much, but you're not. The thought of his cum spilling out of you when you least suspect it...brings out a moan as his fingers flick from side to side against your clit, "Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes, don't stop — just like that, fuck, yes."

Your walls squeezed around him, and you could feel him throb inside you, his eyes shutting tight as he rested his head against your shoulder, refusing to stop or pause, determined to fuck you, to make you cum as curses and moans fell from his lips in heated release. The hand on your neck moved, fingers gripping and tangling in your hair, each breath punctuated with a whimpering moan from him. "Jesus fucking Christ, my girl's pussy feels so fucking good...." Biting your shoulder once more, growling, you were close, he could feel it, right around his cock pounding into you. And he was so close. "Is my baby gonna cum? C'mon, baby, please..."

"Y e s, yes... I'm..." You felt it, then, the rise climbing up and up. The sound of thunder close and almost,you swore, in time of Eddie's hips crashing into you. "Shit... F u c k!" You felt your body shake, hips trembling, as did your lips, seized and form still as he pounded away.

"That's it — that's it, sweetheart, let go, fuck, you're beautiful..." And he couldn't resist, punctuating his hips, letting out a growl. "Say it, say whose making you cum, baby. Shout it. Scream it. Want the whole world knowing who's fucking you so good..."

You cried out, his name leaving your lips, first and last, as you were doing when he asked, louder and louder each time. The light behind your eyes, engulfing you whole, in that sweet, white hot light, drowned you. Your cunt squeezing him the tightest, making him cry out, but moving still, feeling your release drench his cock, the warmth of it driving him over the edge.

"Baby, princess, fuck, so good, you're doing so fucking —" He groaned, fucking you through it. He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth like that, loud, even amongst the thunder. "That's right, that's fucking right, let everyone god damn know I make you cum like that—jesus fuck," though you came, he felt your hips rise up to meet his thrusts. It made him let out a throaty laugh, his eyes looking adoringly at you. "Look at my baby... Wanting my cum so much, powering through... Don't worry, baby..." Putting all his energy in his thrusts, taking you deep and fast. "You're gonna... Mmm, fuck. Oh, you're gonna get every...fucking...drop..."

You were being greedy, because you did want it, your cunt sensitive but not caring. Every thrust giving you an after shock of sensitivity, making your body jolt but you didn't care. "Please, please, please." Your voice strained, but heard so clearly to his ears.

"So fucking polite... Shit..." He could feel it, shuddering lightly. "Oh, baby. Fuck. You're such a good girl..." His breath panting, cursing sweet nothings into your ear, making you moan. "Fuck. Shit. Here... Fuck..." His muscles tensing, cock twitching inside you. He let out a groan, "Take it, sweetheart, take it all...fuck!" pressing himself as deep as he could go, your hands grabbing his hips, keeping him there as you could feel him, thick and hot, spilling into you, over and over. He clung to you, as you did him, both taken with the feeling, him emptying himself inside you, and you, feeling so utterly full. He moves slow, coming down from his high, your walls still gripping him like a vice, milking him of every thread, every drop of him, filling you more and more. He pictures his cum seeping out, dripping from your cunt, and the mental image makes him shudder, lifting his lips to kiss along your jaw, toward your lips and you take it with a tired, yet so satisfied kiss. Soft. Passionate. Content.

His hips come to a still, the thunder subsides and the rain seems to lighten up. You're both drenched to the bone, but neither of you care as you kiss over and over. A smile shared between you both, your body limp beneath his, enjoying the moment, the afterglow of it all. Your eyes open and he stares into them, the smile on both of your lips widening, everything seems light, sharing joint kisses, a giddiness filling you both. It could just be the way you looked then, or just the feel of you a mess around his cock, or any number of things, but the words just slip out as he looks at you. "I fucking love you."

Your eyes go wide, and regret kicks him square in the face.

Ah, shit.

"...Eddie," you start, looking into his eyes. "I—"

"Uh," he cuts you off, eyes looking away from your face. A nervousness settling in him. "Shit, it's getting cold," he said, and reluctantly, he pulls out of you, both of you letting out a groan as the release seeps from you. He couldn't help but frown at that, as well as, well, t h a t. He really fucked up a perfect little moment, in his eyes, and the only thing to do was damage control. "I should take you home, your parents are probably wondering where you are..." Brown eyes looking at the state of your dress as you tried to straighten and cover yourself with it. Reaching for your hand, he held it, rubbing his thumb over the top of it. "Wayne should still be at work, I can take you back to mine and we could get that dress of yours for a wash. Can take a shower if you want. Y'know, so they don't ask how you got it wet and....maybe a little muddy."

"I..." you trailed off, watching as he was already getting to his feet, lifting you up, his hands working to straighten your dress, giving your cheek a kiss. His eyes didn't stay on you long, rushing to reach for his shirt and jacket, drenched as all fuck, wringing the excess water as best as he could. You take a deep breath, smiling softly. "Always taking care of me, aren't you?"

At that, he looked at you, and even in the rain, you could see his smile. "For you, Princess? Always."

You believed him, too.

You didn't talk to Eddie much over the weekend, or see him, really, just some late night phone calls which was mainly him playing one of his tapes and you listening. It was Monday once more, when you entered the halls and saw sight of him at his locker, Jeff and the boys talking to him about something that got his attention.

I fucking love you.

The words playing in your head for the millionth time since he said it, wanting to talk about it, but every time he switched it to another topic. Or a distraction by ways of a kiss. It was annoying, he was clearly embarrassed that he said it, and was trying everything in his power to make you forget it even happened or push it away. Which was ridiculous, considering....

And that's when you saw them, Calvin and his teammates, and it brought back to what Eddie had said happened. Confronting him about his relationship with you, talking about how Eddie would ruin you like you were some delicate flower that needed protection, even from an ex-boyfriend like him. It pissed you off. Because you weren't delicate, you were not made of glass, and the fact that the only boy that grasped that and celebrated that with you was the very boy your ex-boyfriend was trying to threaten... Yeah, you couldn't let that stand.

But you were always such a clever one, that an idea brought forth in your head, and oh, you smiled. Smoothing down your skirt, because of course you wore a skirt, you made your way down the hall, right past your ex-boyfriend, and even some of your former friends, and right toward Eddie. He turned to you, just in time for your hands on his shoulders and lips crashing against his. You didn't catch the way his eyes widened in surprised, but you felt his tongue slide into yours, felt the vibration of his moan and the feel of his hands on your waist. Pressing against him more, you could hear the whistles of the students around you both, some of his friends, some not. They only got louder when his hands went to the swell of your ass, smiling against his lips as you felt his squeeze.

You bit his lip, tugging on it hard until it slipped from your teeth's grasp and he let out a little groan. Your eyes look adoringly at him, genuinely, giving another peck to his lips. "C'mon, baby, walk me to our class? Can't wait to sit next to you and..." You purposefully trailing off, pretending to finally catch sight of your ex. "Oh. C a l, hey... Funny, didn't see you there," you chuckled, thumb swiping over your bottom lip. Turning toward Eddie, holding his hand. "Baby, I need you, let's go."

Eddie looked at you, to Cal, a bright smile on his face as he brought his arms up in a shrug. "She's a wild one," he said as he brushed past them, "I can hardly keep up, but shit, I'm willing to try." Following after you, your hand in his as you both left them in the dust, as soon as you rounded a corner, he sped up and grabbed you at the waist, smiling wide as you let out a squeal, you squealed!, lifting you in a spin and pressed your back against the wall and kissed you deep."You... Jesus," he laughed against your lips, shaking his head. "I wasn't bullshitting, princess, you are a wild one." His brows furrowed, "You know you're a marked woman now, yeah? That was social suicide! You have no hope of escaping that or going back to your friends — It's pretty much over for you, baby." He pulled back, hands on his hips. "Now and forever — marked by the freak of Hawkins."

You let out a laugh, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck, "Yeah, well, no loss there. Like I told you. I like your friends better, and...might as well, since I'm loved by the freak of Hawkins as well?"

His smile faded, a look of shock and apprehension on his handsome face, letting out a breath. "....ah, shit. That..." He closed his eyes, bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose, squeezing it. "Listen, that... You don't..." Bringing his hands out, palms towards you, he rationalized, "It's way too fucking soon to say shit like that, I know. And if that freaked you out—"

"It didn't," you cut him off, which made him raise his brow, unconvinced. "Okay, it kind of did, at first, but, I was still kinda recovering from you fucking me so it was all, kind of a daze." You snorted at the smug look on his face. "Fuck off. I never fucked in the rain before. It was a lot." You crossed your arms in front of you, looking at him. "So, what? Heat of the moment kind of thing? You don't love me?"

He took in a deep breath, chocolate brown eyes looking you over, head to toe and then back again. He could feel his heart, how it quickened in beat, a warmth that radiated when your eyes met. Your taste still lingering on his tongue, the urge to touch you, hold you, kiss you, and yes, fuck you, especially in that skirt you wore. "I don't...not love you. If I'm being totally honest... Yeah. Maybe I do... No other girl's just committed social suicide like that, kissed me in front of an Ex-boyfriend to be like fuck off. Get them jealous, yeah, but, not like that." He looked at you appreciatively. "You're kinda badass. And...for some reason, you...you wanna be a badass with me. How can I not love you for that? Or just... I don't know. I guess.... Yeah, yeah, I love you. But I don't wanna fuck it up, y'know, saying that too fast. So, if you think that's too fast or...you don't feel the same, then, we can forget it. And if I don't manage to fuck this up and chase you away for, maybe...a multitude of reasons, I can say it again...while not being in you at the time."

You couldn't help but smile at him, softly, gently. Your hand reached for his, fingers cascading over his rings and interlock with his, giving him a squeeze. "It's not social suicide for me. It's really not. It's just...letting everyone know where I stand. And it's not with them, it's with you." Your smile widen when he squeezed your hand. "I might love you, too." A laugh breathed past your lips as you saw his widened eyes. "But, maybe it is a little too soon to say it, officially. But...feels like we're on the track for it. My mom says she's never seen me this happy, and that's... That's because of you, Eddie. Because you make me very happy and... I feel like...my truest self with you." Kissing his cheek, you let out a hum, "Thank you for... Even though you said it, giving me the space to not feel pressured to say it right back. At least not now when this is still kinda new between us. Though I'm tempted," you both laughed, loving the glint to his eye. "I'm very fucking tempted."

"I'll take that. I can so fucking take that," he said, leaning forward, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, both of you smiling as you pull away, swinging your joined hands between you, sharing a chuckle. The bell rang, causing him to sigh. "Shit. Well, first period, Sweetheart. Oh, and... I totally forgot my book. So, I guess we'll have to share, get our tables together and..."

You rolled your eyes, moving toward class and dragging him along, "No, keep your hands to yourself until lunch time, Munson."

He pouted, looking over you and letting out a groan. "Come on, Princess, you knew what you were getting into with my wandering hands the moment you got into that skirt...."

You gave him a smile, a wicked look to your eyes.

Oh, yes, you definitely did.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #words did come hither — writings #eddie munson — writings

[llamagoddessofficial]

A lovely commission from @vallleyoflilllies, Error being a silly tsundere and not knowing how to deal with his crush on a human <3 absolutely CLASS idea

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He was back again.

You could always tell when he was back- you’d come home from work and hear the sounds of a random dramatic soap opera drifting from the TV. He liked those... he would binge-watch entire series’ in one sitting. 

... You shook some of the droplets off your coat, then hung it up to let it drip-dry for a bit. The weather was pretty grim outside. You headed to your room first, changing into pyjamas and picking up your project... you didn’t have any other outings planned today. Sitting with him on the couch sounded really nice.

You made your way to the sofa, flopping down beside him unceremoniously. He didn’t look at you. He wasn’t watching a soap opera today, though- he was watching some cooking show you’d never seen before, based in Italy.

“This is new.” You commented. “Why’re you watching an old people cooking show? You never cook. All you do is eat my food.”

“i put-t-t it on for you, actually. since your cook-k-king is gross.” He said, still not looking at you. You knew him well enough to know his words had no real venom to them. “take notes, glitch.”

You snickered. “Doesn’t stop you from coming back. Weirdo.”

You liked when he was here. 

Error... he had a habit of appearing out of nowhere. Literally- he’d appear out of thin air. Disappearing for days, then showing up again, acting like no time passed. Your first encounter with him had been him shaking you awake in the middle of the night; he was visibly upset and berated you for leaving your stove on by accident, informing you you could’ve had a fire if he wasn’t there to turn it off. You were so tired, and so perplexed by what was occurring, that you just sheepishly apologised- convinced you were dreaming. Apparently somewhat mollified by your apology, he proceeded to... vanish like a mirage.

...

Well. You obviously wrote that off as the strangest episode of sleep hallucination you’d ever had.

The next occurrence was when you left a cupboard door open, and almost stood up into the opened door. You would’ve whacked your head pretty hard. But a firm, large hand on your head stopped you from standing up fully- you heard the sound of a closing cupboard and a glitched “st-t-upid human, you’re going to hurt yoursel-l-lf.”. You were absolutely shocked to look up and see that the monster from your ‘dream’ the other night was real, and glaring down at you.

... He then disappeared. Again. Like he wasn’t even there. You didn’t have time to process it.

It happened with further and further frequency, and for lesser and lesser reasons. At first, it was things of genuine concern, he would make sure you weren’t leaving your oven on, he’d replace the battery in your carbon monoxide alarm. Then stuff of slightly less importance... shutting off a tap you left running. Plugging in your phone overnight when you’d forgotten. And it wasn’t long before it was stuff of absolutely zero concern- turning off the TV when you weren’t in the room, tidying up your shoes when you left them at an askew angle by the door, washing up plates you’d abandoned on the counter. 

Oddly, it felt like in certain ways, he had completely slipped under your radar. Of course you were concerned that a large glitching skeleton monster somehow possessed the ability to instantly get in and out of your home. Of course you were worried about your privacy, your safety, his intentions. He would sometimes look at you for several seconds, unbroken, yellow eyelights blank despite your nervous queries- other times, he would say confusing jittering things to you or himself, about ‘universes’ and ‘alternates’. ‘Mistakes’ he had to ‘eradicate’.

... But... also...

... You weren’t worried at all.

Error was funny. Both intentionally, and unintentionally. He tried to act all tough, speaking with barbs and calling you a ‘glitch’- but to you, he was so clearly all bark and no bite. You shot right back, calling him a broken record player and a weird homeless guy... he took it in stride. He obviously delighted in having someone to play off. To banter with.

... He clearly liked you. He kept coming back, again and again. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like him too.

Did you still have questions? Sure. But in the end, it wasn’t really worth driving yourself crazy over stuff like his secret backstory. He could obviously go in and out of your home completely at will, he could rob you blind or murder you if he so pleased. All he did was do a few menial chores, and occasionally eat some of your food.

He clearly just... needed someone.

At this point in your... ‘relationship’... Error seemed to have given up on the excuse of doing chores in order to be in your home. He still did them, sure, but sometimes he’d just stay anyway. Once he seemed to clock that you tolerated him, whether or not he was unexpectedly picking up your dry cleaning, he began sticking around all day. He would hover nearby you, drifting in and out of whatever room you were in, watching you like a curious cat. If you acknowledged his existence in any manner, like with a question about his day, he’d visibly brighten and start chattering. He’d sit on the couch with you. Listen while you rambled about work, family, friends, anything... making snide remarks and staring with those bright yellow eyelights.

He was more akin to a helpful, close friend/roommate than anything else. You’d grown to kinda just accept that Error was part of your life now.

... He was very easy to accept.

///---///

Error let a slow breath escape him. His temper had been, only moments earlier, absolutely foul. Foul enough that the multiverse would’ve done well to fear him.

... You had no idea that before you arrived, he’d been seething on your couch, glitches overtaking his vision- literally blinding him with anger. Twitching, burning, infuriated by his difficulty with simple tasks while angry. It had been an awful few days, so awful not even the TV could distract him.

... Then he’d heard your front door open. He heard you sigh to yourself, shake off your raincoat, kick off your shoes.

... His vision had cleared. His Soul had thumped. Finally- the only thing that could distract him.

Your home was the only place where he felt warm. It felt like the only place he could come back to, that welcomed him, with familiar smells and sounds and trinkets that brought him back to reality. Even better when you were physically in the space with him, like you were now, nestled beside him on the couch. Unlike the anti void, a vast expanse of white nothingness where he had only himself to talk to, he liked how your home was full of things that had meaning to you. Your Soul’s energy had soaked into every item in the home- as had your scent.

... He glanced at you, then back to the TV again. Did you know you were the only creature in the multiverse he wanted closer?

(He had one of your shirts, in the anti void. You didn’t know. He figured he probably should return it soon... but it kept him company, when he couldn’t directly be with you.)

It was odd. You calling him a weirdo had made him feel so calm- affirmation that you still didn’t know what he’d done, that you still liked him. Still wanted him in your home. He sometimes asked himself what he, the destroyer of universes, was doing hanging around in a tiny backwater AU with a nobody human... but like most things in his life, he found that if he asked too many questions, the pain in his head became too intense. 

At the end of the day, you being close to him and talking to him made him feel good. That was all he needed to know.

Even just watching you had calmed him down; back before he realised you were happy to let him in.

You had settled in, your breathing was slower. Someone, relaxed around him... it felt good. Though he desperately wanted to stare at you, and talk to you, he also didn’t want to seem clingy. He tried to act like he didn’t care, pretending he was watching the Italian cooking show.

...

He didn’t manage long.

“there are aus with m-m-much better looking-g-g mediterraneans than that.” He said, yellow mouth pulled into a sneer.

... You gave him a customary ‘mhm’. 

You had no clue what an AU was. But you humoured him; he liked that. You didn’t really know what most of the things he talked about were, you’d just give him some nods and hums, maybe you’d tease him. You probably just thought he was nuts.

He finally glanced over at you. You were leaning on the side of the couch... something in hand.

...

He felt his Soul skip.

“a-a-are you crocheting?”

... 

... You looked up at him, you seemed surprised to hear him comment on what you were doing. Your eyes on him made his magic all but purr. He was looking at your ‘project’- a few terrible tangled messes, a ball of brown yarn, and a crochet hook pinched between your thumb and forefinger.

(You were in pyjamas. He liked when you were in pyjamas... he liked when you were comfortable. Comfortable around him.)

“... Oh. Uh... well, I’m trying to crochet.” Your voice soothed his glitches. Everything about you was a balm to his angry, spiteful, troubled Soul. “I’ve only just started. I can’t really work it out.”

He tilted his skull. “what are you-u maki-i-ing?”

Were your cheeks getting pinker? “... Nothing in particular, maybe a scarf? I just wanted to get into crocheting.”

He stared. “what don’t y-y-you understand?”

“Making the knot at the beginning. I dunno where to put everything.” Your brow furrowed. “You know how to crochet?”

“of course.” He said, sitting up. The TV was now purely background noise. “why do you seem surp-p-prised?”

You gave him a look, and a teasing smile that made him feel fidgety and hot. 

“... You’re so right. How could I have been so blind. You scream ‘guy who likes to crochet’.”

Error shifted. “how can you not know how to make a slipknot? they’re easy. there’s a lot of method-d-ds.”

“There are? Course you'd know, grandma.”

“maybe try a pret-t-zel method.” He pointed to your yarn, sitting forward even further. “make a pretzel sh-shape with the yarn. then catch the inside loop.”

You made a loop over your finger.

... Then kinda just paused, unsure.

“n-n-no, a pretzel.” He narrowed his sockets. “don’t you kn-kn-know how to make a p-p-pretzel?”

“No.” You said, honestly. Then you glared at him. “But also, you’re shit at explaining.”

He loved when you sassed him. He leaned in. “maybe the cross method is easier for your t-t-tiny human brain. loop the thread twice ov-v-ver your fingers so it’s an x shape. then tuck the loose end under the x and catch that. eas-s-sy.”

... You looped the yarn over your finger twice.

...

“But like. Where do I tuck the end of it?” You said.

“under the x. you... ugh.” He grunted. “c’mere. gimme the-the-the end of the thread.”

...

You flushed. But you shuffled, sitting up, passing him the yarn.

Error leant over- he took your hands in his.

...

He took your hands. In his.

He froze, for a split second. Your hands were in his. He stared down at them; tiny, soft, warm, shrouded in his blackened bones. He had expected contact with you to feel like lightning, but it didn't, your hands were just... nice. Everything he’d dreamed of. 

... 'fuck' was the only thought running through his head. Repeating over and over. He didn’t mean to take your hands, he didn't realise what he was doing until he’d already done it- he was just so accustomed to instinctively hating the idea of touching anyone, he had no idea how to stop himself from doing it when the urge overcame him. He was just so comfortable with you, so warm- he hadn’t thought twice. In that moment, the thought to recoil from you hadn’t even occurred to him.  

He hadn’t thought twice about touching you. 

... It wasn’t until this very moment, your hands warming his bones, that he realised he was indulging an urge he’d had since the moment he first saw you.

...

Error couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge how deeply he’d been taken off guard. And equally, he couldn’t allow you to see it. So he forced himself to continue.

He didn’t want to let go of your hands.

“it-t-t’s a basic slipknot. i don’t get where you’re conf-fused.” He said, defaulting to insults, as he did when he felt any kind of gentle emotion. He hoped his glitches would hide the nervous stutter.

He moved your fingers in his claws, precisely, holding up the end of the yarn. Your hands felt tiny in his.

“do it lik-k-ke this. you want the end to be about this long. not too sh-short.” With the eye of someone who had done it a thousand times, he looped it over your first two fingers. “make an x, over your fingers, like that-t. you see? then you tuck the tail under here. but not-t-t all the way through.”

... 

... His eyelights moved from the thread, to your face. He caught you looking at him. He was very close, his mouth only a few inches from your face. Close enough to literally feel the warmth coming off you. 

... Just like that, he found it was difficult to swallow. 

You flinched, seemingly flustered at getting caught staring- you forced yourself to look back down at the crochet hooks. You bit your lip, apparently in embarrassment.

Your mouth.

...

It took him a few long, difficult moments to draw his eyelights away from your soft, soft lips. 

“... pinch the tail so you dont lose it.” His claws continuously brushed yours as he circled the thread over your own fingers. He took your left hand. “put your other finger through the loop. like... that. then slide the hook through and catch it. there you go, a slipknot.”

... He could hear your heartbeat. It was faster.

“make sure not to tighten it too much. the knot doesn’t count as a stitch. if you were knitting, it would count. but it doesn’t count in cr-crocheting.”

...

He felt like he’d reached the end of his list of excuses to keep holding your hands.

... He let go. And... he sat back against the couch, refusing to look at you, worried about what he might do if he did. He could feel the energy in his cheekbones, they were probably bright blue. 

His hands balled in his lap.

...

“Thanks.” You said, gently. Genuinely.

...

Error didn’t know how to process what he was currently feeling. He wasn't sure if he'd ever know how. So he just kept his sockets glued to the TV.

“... s-s-sure." He said. "whatever.”

#commissions #i like my tsunderes not too sharp #u know what i say #the softer the better #i say that all the time #what do u mean i dont say that #yes i do