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#you will pry that one from my cold dead fingers
seresinhangmanjake · 2 days
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What Comes at Night
Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader
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Summary: Your heart broke the day your brother stabbed Feyd. You spent weeks believing he was dead. And even though it turned out that he survived and the two of you are now together again, nightmares of the day you thought you lost the man you love haunt you. Feeling him is the only thing that provides any comfort.
Notes: Feyd is soft…again. I just like it, idk. Same Feyd x reader from The Harkonnen’s Sweet Thing and The Harkonnen’s Claim. *Can be read alone. 
Warnings: some smut, so 18+
Words: 1000
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist
You can hear it—the splitting of his flesh from the knife penetrating his ribs. You can hear the drop of his blood that drips off of your brother’s blade onto the floor. You can hear his breaths getting thinner after he collapses. 
Foreign hands are everywhere; Fremen men holding you back from reaching him. Their fingernails are cutting into your skin, drawing lines of red down your arms and legs as you struggle to free yourself. 
Then suddenly, the floor dissolves beneath you and your legs sink into the sand of Arrakis’ dunes. The men disappear, your brother disappears, the emperor and his daughter disappear, and now it’s only you and him trapped in the dunes that begin to move up and down, ebbing and flowing like the stormy seas of Caladan. And like the sea, the waves are carrying him away, stealing him from you, and you can’t even attempt to save him because the sand has swallowed you to your waist. 
You can barely see him. Only hints of his black armor show. He's being pulled under, drowning in golden grains, and a couple of his fingers twitching is the last you see of him before he disappears completely. 
He cannot hear your hoarse voice calling for him. You can barely hear your hoarse voice calling for him. Sand is seeping into your ear canals. It brushes your lips and crusts the edges of your nostrils, sticking to the snot brought on by uncontrollable tears. You try to take in some oxygen, just a little, but then you wonder why because you’ve already lost him and you’re about to lose yourself. 
With a blink, the sun has set, and the underlayers of the dunes turn numbingly cold. You don't think of freeing yourself, you think that maybe surrendering is the only way you can be together. A kick flutters within your belly but you don’t care. You’re done. You’re weak and you’ve lost. You can’t save anyone, so you let go. 
Hands are on your face. You detect a voice, but the thick fogginess clogging your ears keeps it far away. “Wake up!”—Is that what it’s saying? Your shoulders are shaking, head bobbing back and forth from a loose neck. “Wake up!” Yes, that's it. It’s cutting through the fog, pulling you to the surface, but then you realize you aren't breathing quite right. You're still choking on gritty sand as tears stream down your cheeks. 
“I’m here. I’m here, ok?” the deep voice says. “My love, look at me,” it says, but you can’t, won’t. It’s a trick. A lie. If you open your eyes, it’ll break your heart because he’s not here. He’s with the dunes. 
The hands tip your head forward and a soft pressure meets your forehead. “I’m with you,” you hear. 
You fight the grip around your wrist. Fingers pry open your hand so that it is no longer clenched in a fist but flat and pressed against heated flesh. A thump pounds under your palm. Once, twice, and once more. 
“Feel me,” the voice demands. There’s another thump. Another. You gasp and your eyes open to find blue irises searing into yours. “I'm here,” Feyd says. 
A sob leaves your throat. “More,” you whimper.
“Ok,” he quickly nods. “Ok. More.”
He carefully pushes you onto your back and eases on top of you. One of your thighs is nudged wide, and then the other. His hand pumps under the thin sheet covering your bodies. He hardens. The tip peels apart your folds, and then you’re full. So full. 
You wrap your legs around his hips and secure your arms around his neck, squeezing every bit of him to keep him close. Then he kisses you because you need to taste him and he knows that. He knows that it’s the final piece to start bringing you back to yourself.
“Move,” you mutter into his lips. So he does. Dragging out and then thrusting back in, allowing you to feel each inch, each vein of the column. His hand slides down your body, from breast to waist to hip and he cups your bottom, holding you more firmly against him.
His motions continue at the perfect pace. A well-practiced pace. The exact pace you need. Little electric shots spark in your brain and the coil tightens in your belly. He moans as you bite into his shoulder and you love that sound because it throws you right over the edge. 
You taste blood as you come. And then he comes. And then lips are dotting around your face and jawline. 
He doesn’t pull out. There’s no pulling out—not in these moments—because pulling out means emptiness. Pulling out means a void of space where he’s missing and you’re left wanting, and you don’t do that here. Here, you don’t want for anything because he gives you everything. 
He lets the heavy breaths between you settle before he rolls onto his back, taking you with him so he can remain snuggly inside of you. Your head rests on his chest as he runs his fingers down your spine. 
“Same one?” he asks and you nod. “They’ll stop; I promise. Just give yourself time, my love.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are,” he tells you, and you believe him. You believe him because he had nightmares of his own during the weeks you were separated. Servants told you he would go on a rampage after waking and seeing that you weren't in his bed. Nothing was spared, from furniture to slaves, and you weren't surprised. Fear does many things to the heart and mind. It makes one feel powerless, and Feyd does not handle that feeling very well. So, in some ways, you suppose you're lucky. At least when you wake, he's beside you. He's here to calm you down. But his presence has yet to soothe your unconscious. 
“I love you,” he whispers against your hairline. “You know that.”
It's a statement not a question, but still, you answer, “I do.”
---
A/N: @midnight-serendipity thank you for requesting this <3
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asha-mage · 7 months
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I can't decide if Mat would like Frederick the Great, would hate Frederick the Great, or WAS Frederick the Great in a past life.
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koroart · 1 month
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Two bros being disappointed at the college frat party and ditch it —
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afewproblems · 5 months
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Season Two Halloween AU Part Ten (Final Part)
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine
Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...
Thank you to Jess @strangersteddierthings for your encouragement and kind words, and to all of you that have been following along with this story. Thank you for your patience, I hope you enjoy the final installment!
***
It doesn't take much to get Dustin on board, especially given the little shits ego.
Nancy and Eddie manage to catch him outside during lunch period the following day, next to the bike racks. With Hawkins Middle just a block away from the highschool, it's easy to make their way over.
"Called it, I totally called it," Dustin preens with a wide grin, Eddie holds back the urge to roll his eyes.
Nancy levels Dustin with an unimpressed glare as she crosses her arms.
"It's not too late, we could make this work without him," Nancy says dryly, and Eddie has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at the way Dustin's mouth drops open as he looks between Nancy and Eddie with a stricken expression.
"No, wait!" Dustin says, his voice pitched high with panic, "I want to help!" 
"Steve is a good guy, he helped my mom with the groceries last week because she had to work late," the kid continues, his voice softer now.
"I can tell he's sad, when he thinks you aren't looking at him, mom had the same thing after my dad left". 
Dustin looks up at Eddie now, a wary suspicion in his eyes, "he's been like that since the last time I covered for you," he throws long exaggerated finger quotes around the word, 'covered' as he openly glares at Eddie.
"What did you say to him before the tunnels?" Dustin demands fiercely, and even Nancy turns to look at Eddie with a questioning tilt to her head.
Frustration courses through his chest now, hot and bubbling, he has to take a deep breath to keep from yelling. 
As if Eddie hasn't been asking himself that very question, as if he hasn't been turning that moment over and over in his mind, trying to find the moment, the words, responsible for Steve's distance.
"Dustin," Nancy says sharply, "this is not the time--"
"What are you talking about," Dustin turns to Nancy, gesturing at Eddie who bristles, "we're making a plan and that should include what not to say this time."
"This was a stupid idea," Eddie bites out, turning on his heel, his ears are warm under his hair and he can feel the angry flush slowly make its way down his neck, he takes three steps before a hand catches his elbow, halting his path.
"Okay Dustin knock it off," Nancy says quietly, her head on a swivel, watching for any lunchtime stragglers lingering around them or teachers on supervision. 
Satisfied that no one seems to be watching their conversation, she turns back to Eddie and squeezes his elbow one last time before letting her hand drop away, "and you, calm down, we're all here because we want the same thing".
"Well, some of us more than others," Dustin pipes up, wiggling his eyebrows at Eddie who wants to sink into the concrete. 
"Dustin," Nancy bites out between her teeth, "Mike said the Snowball is in two days, think you could get Steve to take you?"
Dustin scrunches his nose as he looks at Nancy, "are you kidding," he scoffs, "all I have to do is tell my mom Steve offered to take me and she'll call him to thank him, he'll have no choice but to agree like it was his idea". 
Nancy blinks once at Dustin and Eddie can't help but stare at the little monster's face as he grins up at the two of them. It's honestly a good plan given what Eddie knows of Steve, and even Nancy begins to nod slowly.
"Okay, then your job," Nancy turns to Eddie now, "is to surprise him here when he arrives at the dance, Dustin's right".
Nancy doesn't look at the little twerp as she says it but nearly rolls her eyes at the triumphant laugh that bursts forth from the kid.
"An ambush is probably the best way to catch him, and Eddie," Nancy turns to fully face him and reaches out to squeeze his arm with small hands, "just…be gentle with Steve, as much as you can".
"Are we all clear on the plan then?" She asks, taking a step back towards the sidewalk path leading back to the school. 
"Yes mom," Eddie huffs, shooting Dustin a matching grin as Nancy sighs loudly.
"Just be here for seven," she says tightly before turning in her heel and stalking off towards the highschool.
"She's pretty intense hey?" Eddie says, turning back to the kid, he trails off at the scowl Dustin gives him in response.
"Nance is cool and has a gun, I wouldn't mess with her and I wouldn't mess with Steve if I were you," Dustin scoffs, taking a step closer.
Eddie swallows roughly at the sudden proximity, looking around the school yard for any stragglers making their way back to class. 
"Keep your voice down you little shit," he hisses, reaching out to pull Dustin farther away from the bike rack and the double front doors. He tries not to let the news of Nancy's weapon cache fluster him but Dustin must see something in Eddie's expression if the sudden smug grin is anything to go by.
"I'm just saying, you're new to the party and we protect each other, so if you're just looking to mess with him--"
"Jesus Christ," Eddie hisses, bringing his hands up to his eyes. He presses his fingers in until his vision explodes in a kaleidoscope of stars and counts to five, breathing deeply through his nose.
"I'm only going to say this one more time, so tell your little party because I ain't doing another shovel talk from someone whose voice hasn't even dropped".
Eddie ignores the squawk Dustin makes as he lowers his hands, "I just want to talk to Steve and see where this goes, I am not getting my hopes up that this is all gonna be 'Happily Ever After' or some shit, and you shouldn't either".
Eddie watches as Dustin frowns skeptically and has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from rolling his eyes.
"But I swear, I'm not messing with him, okay?" 
Dustin stares at Eddie for what feels like an age, saying nothing. His gaze is anything but warm, it feels like he's being analyzed and he wishes that Nancy were still here to absorb some of the strange attention the kid has focused on him.
Eddie is about to tell him to forget it, to storm off back to the highschool when Dustin finally utters a simple, "okay". 
It throws Eddie off for a moment, he stands in the patchy November worn grass, shivering in the harsh wind, mouth opening and closing in surprise.
"That's it?" He asks faintly, watching as Dustin swings his backpack off his shoulder and unzips it. He reaches in and pulls out a bright yellow walkie talkie and holds it out to Eddie expectantly.
"The party frequency is 467.5625," Dustin says as Eddie takes the device. 
He looks from the walkie in his hands to Dustin and scoffs, "you expect me to remem--"
"Channel eight then, Jesus," the kid huffs out, "don't make me take it back, this is a big deal Munson, you're one of us now". 
Eddie holds back a smile but it's a near thing. 
It feels strange, the warmth in his chest at the words. It shouldn’t feel as big as it does, but the heavy walkie in his hands feels like acceptance, something Eddie has always insisted that he never needed. He had Wayne, he had Hellfire, and Corroded Coffin, what did it matter if the other teens gave him a wide berth in the halls, or if teachers assumed the worst of him without evidence. 
But as Eddie taps the walkie onto the palm of his left hand, that feeling of warmth grows until it travels up his throat into a sudden lump that chokes his words. 
Fuck. 
Eddie blinks away the burning sting in his eyes once, twice, before lowering himself into a bow to hide the moisture he knows is just a split second from becoming a very evident problem. 
Dustin steps back in surprise as Eddie coughs to hide the waver in his voice.
"I uh, humbly accept your invitation and will endeavor to assist with all future quests, even upon pain of death or dismemberment oh noble bard".
Eddie lets a small laugh loose as he stands back up to his full height, grinning at the delighted giggle Dustin makes, even as the kid loudly insists that he's actually an Artificer, duh.
"Could've fooled me with that inspired speech dude," Eddie shakes his head and begins making his way back towards the highschool, letting gravity take him down the small hill towards the trees with heavy steps. He feels lighter now than he has in a while.
Absolutely nothing could go wrong.
"Wait!"
The sound of quick steps and crunching dead leaves announces Dustin before Eddie can even turn to face Hawkins Middle.
He skids to a stop at the bottom of the hill, breathing heavily with a wild grin on his small face.
"I know we have a plan already, but I think I have an even better idea," he breathes out, nearly vibrating in excitement.
"Better than Wheelers?" Eddie says, raising his eyebrow and slowly crossing his arms over his chest, careful not to drop the walkie in the grass.
"It's genius," Dustin insists, "trust me".
***
It was not genius.
It is in fact the stupidest thing that Eddie has ever done.
Including the time he skipped school to climb the tallest tree in Mirkwood on a dare and ended up breaking his collarbone after falling ten feet.
But, Eddie supposes, this is exactly what happens when one listens to a thirteen year old.
Maybe this was how all urban legends started, as unsolicited advice from snarky little pre-teens with more confidence than common sense.
All of a sudden, you end up stowed away in the back of a car trying your damnedest to keep quiet so as not to tip off the driver.
Who you happen to be eavesdropping on. Again.
Fourth time's the charm after all.
Eddie tries to stay as still as he can, crouched down in the back of Steve's Beemer. How the hell did those Urban Legend serial killers make this seem so easy, Eddie thinks as they manage to hit yet another pothole, jostling his position behind Dustin's seat. Eddie's heart beat feels incredibly loud in his ears as he holds his breath between his teeth.
He wonders belatedly just what Hopper would do if he drove past them now and tries to swallow the sudden anxiety that clings to his throat.
"Remember," Steve interrupts Eddie's thoughts with his insistent tone, "you don't care, you're as cool as a cucumber, you let everything roll off your back," Steve says as the sound of the turn signal begins, the rhythmic tick tock keeping pace with his words.
"Like a duck?" Dustin asks from the passenger seat and Eddie has to fight to keep the snort that threatens to break free from his nose.
"Uh, I guess, just, look," Steve sighs as they slow down for a light if the red glow is any indication, "you don't want to come on too strong, what happens when you come on too strong?"
"It blows up in your face," Dustin says quietly as Steve speaks in unison with him, slapping the steering wheel once with the flat of his palm, making Eddie flinch in the back. 
God. Is that what Steve thinks he did?
"Exactly, Henderson, you got it! So what are you?"
"Cool as a cucumber," Dustin repeats, this time with more conviction in his voice and Eddie hopes the kid is a better actor than he thought because that is not the lesson he wants him taking away from this evening.
"Because you don't care," Steve says again, tapping the steering wheel with each word for emphasis and Eddie can hear the grin in his voice as he shifts in the driver's seat. 
"I don't care," Dustin repeats again, though in a much colder voice than before, and suddenly Eddie knows if Dustin could see him now, he'd be staring daggers at him.
Eddie rolls his eyes, he's not going to take the blame for every single word and feeling coming out of Steve's mouth and it isn't fair of Dustin to heap all of it on Eddie.
"You look like a million bucks, go get em tiger," Steve says gently as the car comes to a gentle halt. There's a fondness in his voice that Eddie hasn't heard before. 
He's never had a sibling either, but Eddie imagines that this is exactly how it would feel, witnessing their firsts, cheering them on as they head into the unknown. Being their protector from the things that go bump in the night, even if that thing was as small as a first heartbreak. 
God. King Steve just had to be a secret sweetheart didn't he?
Not that it was really much of a secret, Eddie thinks as Dustin opens the passenger door and hops out of the car--
Oh shit. 
Oh shit.
He had been so engrossed in the conversation he'd been eavesdropping on, yet again, that Eddie had forgotten to sneak out.
He had even kept the back passenger door open, ever so slightly, to avoid the sound of it alerting Steve when he made his escape at the same time as Dustin. Then all they had to do was line up their doors closing at the exact same time and Steve would be none the wiser.
Oh God, he really did it, Eddie really listened to a thirteen year old and expected the plan to work.
And what's worse, he's the one that had fucked it up and now, he's trapped.
Eddie takes a deep breath through his nose and releases it as slowly as he can through his mouth. It feels as though an elephant is seated on his chest and his lungs can't quite keep up with the weight as his ribcage slowly begins to cave in. 
He has to get out, he has to run, he has to get out, he can't be caught in here, he can't ruin this again.
He starts at a sudden tapping on the window and holds his breath as Steve leans over from the driver's side towards his passenger door.
"Dustin?" Steve huffs as he moves back into place, his arm stops to rest on the passenger door just above Eddie's legs hidden in the darkness of the back seat.
"Steve! I, uh, forgot something, in the back," Dustin's voice is slightly strangled as he stumbles through the explanation for his sudden reappearance, "uh, my backpack!"s in days with their plan in place.
"Okay," Steve says slowly, drawing out the second syllable as he drops his hand from the passenger seat, "let me look--"
"No!" Dustin barks out, leaning further into the vehicle, from the new angle Eddie can see the panic on his young face. 
"Dustin? What--" Steve huffs as the kid climbs back into the front seat, grabbing Steve's arms and forcing him to continue facing forward.
And perhaps it's the absolute ridiculousness of the situation that makes Eddie laugh, the look on Dustin's face, or the confusion in Steve's voice, but he can't help but contain the loud snort that bursts forth from the back seat. 
Shit.
Eddie's heart drops into the floor of the vehicle beneath him as Steve and Dustin both freeze. 
It's like time stands still for an eternity, though snow begins to slowly fall outside the Beemer and the far off buzzing of music and laughter continues to emanate from the school gymnasium. 
Eddie moves first, lifting his hands to cover his face as he slowly sits up. He presses his fingers harshly into his eyes until a kaleidoscope of stars and fireworks appear in the darkness, before lifting them slightly to move into his hair and pulling at the roots. Eddie keeps his eyes closed as he hears a sharp intake of breath and movement from the driver's seat. 
"Eds? Dustin, what is going on, what are you doing here?" Steve says, his voice growing louder with each word until Eddie opens his eyes. 
Steve is staring at him, his large hazel eyes are wide and his brows have pinched in the middle, cutting creases across his forehead. He looks at Dustin before turning back to Eddie again, the frown on his face slowly morphing into a sneer. 
"Figures," Steve breathes out before turning to Dustin once more, "you two planned this?"
Dustin has the decency to at least wince at the accusation, "it's not like that--"
"Just," Steve cuts the kid off, the word harsh, almost a snarl before Steve deflates, sinking back into the driver's seat and letting his head drop back onto the headrest. 
He breathes out long and slow through his nose before continuing in a much softer, tired voice, "go to the dance Henderson". 
Dustin opens his mouth to rail against the dismissal, to stop whatever train of thought has run through Steve's mind, but Eddie beats him to it.
"Dustin," Eddie sighs, dropping his hands away from his hair to his lap, "let me take my lumps man, go".
Dustin makes a noise that seems to be a cross between a curse and a growl, his expression venomous, before he steps back and closes the passenger door with a loud metalic bang.
Eddie vaguely remembers Dustin and Nancy's threat and the guns she supposedly owns and suppresses a shudder. 
One problem at a time.
Eddie hauls himself into the back seat and groans at the rush of pins and needles dotting along his arms as he moves into a normal position once more. He rubs his hands along his arms and legs, wincing at how loud he is in the absolute silence of the car.
Steve isn't looking at him, his face pressed in between his hands at 11 and 1 on the steering wheel. 
"So," Steve mutters after a beat, startling Eddie as he sits back up from the wheel, "you were listening to me. Spying. Again." 
"Steve," Eddie starts, only for the other man to continue on as though he hasn't heard him.
"The only thing I can't figure out is why?"
Steve turns in his seat to look at Eddie, his face carefully blank now but for the slight downward pull at the left corner of his mouth. The bruises from Billy's recent beatings have faded to a sallow yellow and even the collection of cuts from the shattered ashtray have begun to scab over. 
The sight makes Eddie ache.
"Did Tommy put you up to this?" Steve interrupts Eddie's thoughts, his stare unwavering.
"What?" Eddie whispers, horrified, "what are you talking about?"
"You, you keep," Steve's voice rises slightly, a hysterical edge begins to creep in as his breathing quickens, "inserting yourself into my shit, you--I told you that I," Steve swallows heavily and blinks, his hazel eyes shine in the glow of the streetlight.
"Tommy is the only one who knows about me, so--so whatever he's got you doing," Steve sucks in another short breath, it's wet at the edges and Eddie feels his chest tighten as Steve's voice wavers.
"Steve--"
"You know what," Steve hisses as he reaches down to tug the keys out of the ignition, his breathing still slightly erratic, "just don't".
Eddie watches, frozen, as Steve wrenches the driver's door open and throws himself out of the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind him.
Eddie sits in silent shock for a moment, as though his limbs have filled up with sand, holding him in place, before he manages to scramble towards his own door.
"Steve!" He shouts, wincing as he slams the car door behind him, prompting several kids and parents walking into the middle school behind them to look in curiosity.
He catches a glimpse of a maroon sweater darting into the trees. 
Gotcha. 
Eddie hurries after him, cursing Dustin's insistence that, 'with this plan you won't need a coat, there's no waiting outside at all!'
He tamps down the hot feeling of irritation creeping up his chest and into his throat. It's a ridiculous night, first spent crouched into the back of a car and now traipsing through the woods to what? 
Chase after someone who clearly wants nothing to do with him? Who has been purposefully avoiding him since that night in the tunnels. 
Nancy and Dustin had it wrong, this was stupid. 
What was he thinking going along with their batshit plan --not that Nancy deserved credit for the car thing, that was all Henderson. 
Eddie pushes a branch out of his path and steps over a snow covered log, cursing the fact that he can feel the chill creeping into his toes through the thin canvas of his converse sneakers. The shoes also have little traction in the fresh snow that seems to be coming down even harder now as the night goes on.
As if to prove a point Eddie slips on a wet patch of leaves and swears at the sudden pain in his back as he struggles to keep upright.
He's breathing hard, puffs of frozen breath billow out and away from him in the cool night air
'Be gentle with him,' Nancy had said, as if she knew this would happen. As if she knew Steve would run the first chance he could and Eddie would follow.
He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, letting it in and out, allowing the frustration and anger from the last few days flow out with each breath.
"Steve," Eddie shouts as he finally catches a glimpse of maroon and tawny hair through the thicket, "just stop, man!"
Steve halts, halfway over a fallen log, but doesn't turn around.
Eddie ducks under another branch and into the small break in the trees that Steve is in. He can see the way the other man's shoulders rise and fall rapidly in the meager moonlight but whether from panic or exertion, Eddie can't tell.
"Steve," Eddie says as he takes another wary step forward, as though approaching a wild animal.
"You promised we'd talk," Eddie tries to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat, "was that a lie?" 
Steve says nothing still, though he turns his face just enough that Eddie can make out his profile in the low light.
Eddie sighs heavily, sliding a shaking hand through his hair, "what would Tommy want with the town freak anyway, he'd be more likely to put sugar in my gas tank than talk to me about anything, Steve".
"So," Eddie breathes out slowly, feeling his heart rate begin to climb as he prepares to take the leap, "rewind a bit, and catch me up on just what is going on in that head of yours sweetheart".
He sees the moment the words register in the way Steve stiffens, the way he slowly turns towards Eddie, his face pale and his eyes wide.
"You…you've called me that before, in the car," Steve says slowly, in fits and starts, "I thought it was a dream". 
Eddie takes another step closer, watches as Steve traces his movement with wary eyes.
"I think that was the most scared I have ever been in my life Steve, I thought you were dead, and it made me realize something," he swallows heavily, it feels like glass all the way down. 
"I was an idiot," Eddie whispers, his breath floats away in the cold November air as he shivers, "and didn't understand what you were trying to tell me at the Byers".
Steve winces slightly and nods, he opens his mouth to say something but Eddie beats him to it.
"IthinkyourNonnawasontosomethingSteve," the words tumble out in a long nearly unintelligible string, "I want to be in your life, whatever that means, however you'll have me," his lungs stutter slightly as Eddie takes a deep steadying breath.
Steve's head tilts slightly to the left as he regards Eddie with a infuriating black expression, his eyes searching Eddie's own.
"As friends?" Steve says slowly. There's a leading note to his voice that Eddie tries not to wince at.
He can't quite help the way his shoulders drop at the words though. Of course, of course he'd been right the first time. Steve was straight and, despite his better judgment, Eddie had gone ahead and gotten his hopes up for nothing.
"If that's what you want," Eddie agrees, forcing a wane smile that doesn't meet his eyes.
Steve's expression betrays nothing still as he moves through the thicket in two steps, his gaze never wavering from Eddie's own as he crosses his arms over his chest, still guarded despite how close they are.
"And if I wanted something else?" Steve speaks softly now, the words travel in between them through gentle puffs of frozen breath.
They're nearly the same height, Eddie might be a half inch taller or so, but from this close it doesn't matter. 
Eddie can see the flecks of green in his eyes, the collection of freckles and moles across his nose and cheeks; if Steve is an Autumnal King in a sunset, he's absolutely otherworldly in the moonlight. The pale snow falling around them almost makes it seem like he's glowing.
"Glowing huh?" 
Fuck.
Steve's face splits into a soft smile, his eyes crinkle at the corners, pulling at the yellow bruised skin. He breathes out something resembling a laugh through his nose as he says, "well, you're not so bad yourself Munson".
Eddie takes another step closer, his heart racing at a mile a minute, "s'that right?" he asks, lifting his hands to grip at Steve's arms.
He lets his ungloved hands run up and down, reveling at how soft and warm the sweater Steve's wearing is before settling at his elbow.
Steve's eyes slowly trace over Eddie's face, before his expression morphs into the determined one that Eddie recognizes from that horrible night in the tunnels.
"I'm sorry," Steve swallows roughly before clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head as Eddie opens his mouth to speak, "please, just let me explain first, and then you can," he bites at the inside of his cheek as his hazel eyes move beyond Eddie's gaze into the trees. 
"You can, make your decision or whatever".
Eddie hesitates for just a moment, squeezing Steve's arms once more before he lets go. 
Steve gives Eddie a tight smile, before closing his eyes, "I've known Tommy since we were like six, sandbox kids right?"
"Our dads were friends, they worked together, so it just made sense, and we were close, we did everything together," Steve opens his eyes but doesn’t look at Eddie, "Tommy knows a lot about me, stuff I've never told anyone, not even Nance".
Steve sighs, kicking roughly at a cluster of leaves and snow on the ground, "not that she hasn't figured a bunch of it out, she's smart like that". 
"I remember talking about girls for the first time when we were Dustin's age, Tommy had a crush on Linda Holloway, he liked her red hair," Steve smiles faintly, but it quickly disappears as he finally meets Eddie's eyes once more, "and I didn't think anything of it at the time, I just thought we were sharing who we thought was cute so I--"
He stops speaking, his breath stutters for a moment as he shakes his head once and curls his arms even more tightly around himself.
"Steve--" Eddie tries, reaching out once again with one hand before he curls his fingers away as though afraid to touch him. 
Eddie wants to tell Steve that he doesn't need to continue, that he understands, but Steve has regained his voice, soft and unwavering.
"I told him about Mary McKinney, she let me borrow her pencil whenever I needed it and always wore her hair in braids," Steve licks his lips, his eyes flitting between Eddie now and the ground, "and, about Brian Donovan, he was on our little league team and he had the best dimples I'd ever seen".
Steve's lips twist into a shy smile this time as he looks at Eddie, "maybe second best now".
Heat rises in Eddie's cheeks, his heart thrums in his chest and he can't stop the pleased grin from taking over his face at the words. 
God, he's so fucked.
Steve continues on, if he notices Eddie's blush in the low twilight he doesn't mention it.
"Tommy said that was weird to think of boys like that, the same way I thought about Mary, and not to talk about it again. That didn't stop him from bringing it up after that," Steve sighs heavily now, "I couldn't so much as make eye contact with another guy at school without Tommy telling me off". 
Anger ignites in Eddie's chest, spreading up his throat and curling around his hands which suddenly long to meet Tommy Hagans stupid face. 
He'd never cared for the guy. Too far up his own ass over the years with a mean streak a mile wide. Add to that a penchant for making other kids' lives absolutely miserable and you have a recipe for a douchebag that Eddie based nearly half of the Munson Doctrine on. 
The other half, well, that had also been influenced by Steve, but if Eddie was being honest, he had no clue who the real Steve Harrington was. 
No one did. 
Hopefully, in time, Eddie could change that. 
"I'm sorry for not trusting you," Steve whispers, his face tipped down to the ground, "I think I've had his voice in my head for so long that I couldn't stop myself from listening to it".
"You want to know the worst part?" Steve asks quietly, he scoffs, not bothering to wait for Eddie to reply, "he acted like he was doing me a fucking favour, like he was protecting me". 
He shakes his head, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as his voice wavers suddenly, "maybe he was, in his own way--"
"Nope," Eddie barks out, startling them both with the sudden volume filling the trees, "that rat was trying to save his own skin by trying to control you, you owe Tommy nothing". 
Steve looks at Eddie with wide shocked eyes. He's standing so still that Eddie wonders if he's stopped breathing.
"Maybe he thought he was doing you a favour," Eddie laughs, it's a cold bitter thing that hangs low amongst the tree roots and plant litter, "and in public sure, I get it, but honestly if he could only be friends with this version of you, then he wasn't really ever your friend, Steve". 
"If someone doesn't like you just as you are, then they aren't worth it".
Steve is still staring, he hasn't blinked the entire time that Eddie has been speaking…it's a little unnerving.
"So," Steve asks, hesitantly, halting Eddie's train of thought, "what about you?" 
He's even closer now and, when the hell did that happen.
"Me?" Eddie says faintly, his eyes drop once to Steve's lips, they're slightly chapped but have never looked so God Damn kissable.
Eddie takes a deep breath, and smiles softly as he lifts his hands to grip Steve's elbows once again, squeezing gently before sliding them down to take his hands. 
They're large and warm in his own, callused along the palms from where the nail bat had sat in his hands. Eddie lets his thumbs run along his knuckles, lingering on the healing scabs from his fight with Billy.
"You weren't what I was expecting," Eddie says, watching as Steve's head tilts again at the nonsequiteur, "especially after the party when I tried to give you back your sunglasses".
"You care, about the kids --even when they are being self destructive little shits, about Nancy even though she broke your heart," he traces his thumbs over the tops of Steves hands when his fingers twitch, "and you care about me, enough to put yourself out there even though you had no idea if I felt the same". 
"You are brave, crazy brave to the point where I'm a little worried about why you're so quick to just throw yourself in front of danger, but," Eddie shakes his head as Steve bristles this time, ducking his face away from Eddie's watchful eyes, "we'll unpack that another day". 
He takes a deep breath and slowly lets go of one of Steve's hands, shaking as he reaches up to cup Steve's jaw, tipping his face up until his eyes are level with Eddie's once more.
Steve's hazel eyes trace over Eddie's face, wide and glassy in the moonlight. They are close enough that Eddie can feel the shallow puffs of air against his lips as Steve's breathing quickens.
"Did the doctor say anything about your face," Eddie asks, gesturing at his own with his one free hand, "recovery time?"
Steve shakes his head with a confused frown.
"Good," Eddie takes a deep breath, allowing a wide lecherous grin to bloom, "because I like you, Steve Harrington, exactly as you are, and I'm going to kiss you," he lifts his other hand now to cup the other side of Steve's face, "but I only make it hurt if you want me to, big boy".
Eddie freezes as the words he just said register. 
Oh Fuck.
Who pulls out Big Boy like five seconds after confessing their feelings? 
Eddie groans lowly and shuts his eyes for a beat, only opening them at the tentative sound of Steve's voice.
"Eds," Steve laughs, his face flushed a deep scarlet, giving Eddie a sly smile of his own, "that was really bad, like really bad".
Eddie sighs, embarrassment beginning to curl, hot and heavy, in his chest as he removes his hands from Steve's face, "I know…"
He startles at the feeling of warm fingers wrapping around his own, drawing his hands back to where they had been on Steve's face, "it's a good thing I like you, so you can get more practice".
"Yeah?" Eddie whispers, his voice hoarse as though he can scarcely breathe. He watches as Steve smiles, counting the crinkles at the edges of his eyes and the way his scarlet flush has faded to a soft pink.
He wants to freeze this moment, burn it into his memory so he'll never forget the soft happiness in Steve's eyes.
"Yeah, Eds," Steve breathes against his lips as their noses brush, "exactly as you are".
Eddie's not sure which of them moves first, it's only the faint brush of chapped lips against his own that sets off an unhinged chorus of, 'Kisskissingkisswhatthefuckyou'rekissingSteveHarrington'.
Eddie's fingers tighten against Steve's face before his hands begin to move on their own, one along his jaw until it has wrapped around the back of his head, burying his fingers in thick soft hair. His other hand shifts slightly lower, his thumb presses into Steve's jaw until his head tips back. 
The noise Steve makes against his lips as Eddie moves him sends a thrill down his spine. He feels two hands slide up his chest, over his shoulders, and around his neck as Steve presses himself even closer. Eddie's fingers tighten in Steve's hair, almost involuntarily, as the pulse under his thumb climbs even higher. Eddie hums contentedly and smiles into the kiss.
It's…God.
Kissing Steve is everything he's ever wanted. He tastes like peppermint, like the candy canes Dustin had brought Steve as a thank you for the ride to the dance, and Eddie can't help but wonder if the little shit had done so with this in mind? 
No, nope. Definitely not thinking about that right now.
He tugs his mind away from the thought and opens his lips more to brush against Steve's with purpose, pulling a sweet moan from the other as he nips at his bottom lip.
He pulls back begrudgingly after another moment, relishing the heat, the softness of Steve pressed against him. They're still standing in the middle of the ravine just a few steps from the middle school and it would probably be best to continue this sort of thing in private. 
Eddie shifts away just enough to run the tip of his nose down Steve's own, his heart fit to burst at the soft sigh Steve releases at the touch. His eyes are closed, but from the new blush that has spread from Steve's cheeks, to his ears and all the way down his neck, as well as the soft grin that pulls at his lips, Eddie can tell the feeling is mutual.
Eddie wonders just how many different shades of pink he could make Steve turn? 
A thought for another day, Eddie thinks with a mischievous smirk, brushing his thumb along the crest of Steve's cheek. 
"We should probably get back sweetheart," Eddie murmurs as he reluctantly removes his hands from Steve's face, "I can think of somewhere warmer we can go to talk". 
Steve nods with a snort, knocking his shoulder into Eddie, "talk huh?" 
"Is that not what the kids call it these days?"
Eddie drapes his arm around Steve's neck, tugging the other man closer. He comes all too willingly with a pleased grin stretched across his face.
"Besides," Eddie hums as they begin to make their way back the way they came, "my Uncle Wayne's been asking about when he can meet you --well after he weaseled it out of me, what was making me mope so much these last few weeks, he's already making Thanksgiving plans--"
They jerk to a halt, half slipping in the leaves and snow, he turns to Steve to meet his wide fearful eyes.
"You--your uncle knows, about me, about you?" Steve asks, the words stopping and starting as he speaks. 
Eddie reaches out only for Steve to take a step back into the trees, "why would you tell him--"
"He doesn't know about you specifically, Steve, I would never do that," Eddie insists, he keeps his voice level now with how close they are to the school again, he can hear the sounds of teens yelling and laughing in the short distance.
"Okay, but he, he doesn't care about…"
Steve trails off, his teeth closing down on his bottom lip and though chewing on what he wants to ask.
Your uncle doesn't care about you being gay, being different?
Eddie sighs, resisting the urge to lift his hands and press his fingers into his eyes, "Uncle Wayne took me in a few years ago when my parents kicked me out for that so, no, it's pretty safe to say he doesn't".
"Oh," Steve says faintly. His arms come up around his chest as he begins to hunch in on himself yet again.
Well shit. 
Now, Eddie isn't a hundred percent certain, but based on things that Steve has said, the warning that Nancy gave him, and what happened at the hospital, he knows that the Harrington house hasn't been the happy home he had assumed it to be.
And now, given the stricken look on Steve's face and the pinch in his gut, the doubts are fading even further away. 
Eddie takes a deep breath, stepping onto the tightrope between them, he'll have to be careful about how he plays this, or Steve could bolt again. He's seen Steve run track at school, he knows the other man could easily outrun him.
Best not to give him a reason to.
"You know, not all parents, um, deserve to be parents sweetheart," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching Steve's face as he speaks, "especially if they're never around".
He feels the rope between them wobble as he takes a step closer, holding out his hand.
"Especially if they don't love us for who we are Stevie," Eddie whispers, watching as Steve looks away sharply, his shoulders tense.
Eddie takes another deep breath before taking the leap, hoping that his feet will meet the ground beneath them.
"Wayne isn't like that, he's safe, and he wants to meet the person I've been mooning over for weeks now, if you're up for it". 
Steve swallows once, twice, his jaw moves as though grinding what he wants to say between his teeth, his nose begins to redden as his eyes grow damp at the edges.
"Yeah," he manages to choke out, his voice cracks down the center as he draws one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, "maybe not, right, right now but --fuck, I'm sorry, I don't know why this keeps happening".
Eddie takes the last step and pulls Steve into his arms again; he stiffens at first before finally relaxing, almost boneless, against Eddie's chest. He feels Steve release a long hitching breath and squeezes him gently, rubbing his cheek against the slight stubble on Steve's own.
"Probably because it's been a really hard couple of weeks sweetheart," Eddie pulls back enough to look into Steve's eyes, they're red rimmed now and his lashes have begun to clump together, but even like this Steve still looks beautiful.
"Yeah," Steve says, he sniffs, wincing at the sound of his stuffy nose, "I think I could use a proper…talk, and a rest, if you're still up for it?"
Eddie feels a smile pulling at his lips as incandescent happiness glows in his chest. He pulls Steve closer once more, relishing the feeling of being able to hold Steve again, without the scent of blood and terror in the air. 
"Lead the way then sweetheart," Eddie says softly, knowing he'll follow Steve wherever he goes. There's a lot more for them to talk about, but for now, he'll be there for Steve as his person, for as long as he can. 
Forever if he can swing it. 
Tag List:
@eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @steveshairspray @hellfireone @eddielives1986 @sunswathe  @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson @queenie-ofthe-void @rainbowsaw @sp0o0kylights @littlebluejane @hi-im-eff  @phantypurple @just-ladyme @thoroughlycollected @justrandomfandomstm @swimmingbirdrunningrock @finntheehumaneater @dynamic-powerm@nightmareglitter @genderless-spoon @zaddipax @thebiblesays @pyrohonk @emly03 @geekymagicalpotato @sidebarre @lemon-astra @cipounette @discreetapple @starlitlakes @saphhicwitchbitch @marvel-ous-m @lingeringmirth @honorarybrit81 @bookbinderbitch @finntheehumaneater  @lololol-1234 @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @monsterloverforhire @gaydrieeen @starlight-archer @homosexual-having-tea @devondespresso @rennnnon @my-hyperfixations-hell-blog @carlprocastinator1000 @0o-queendean-o0 @emly03 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @louismeds @fruitmix
@lizzicleromance @fairy-princette @eddiethehunted
And a few people I think may be intersted!
@steddierthings @steddie-there @stevesbipanic @henderdads @bramble-berries @flowercrowngods
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binkywinky · 6 months
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I'm gonna need to see memories of Maria teaching Carol how to Double Dutch, because I know she did not learn that living with her dad and brother in... Massachusetts? Maine? Colorado? Wherever they're from in the MCU. Ain't no way. She would've been an adult by the time it was popular, and she left home at 18.
Know who she met at 18? Maria Rambeau.
Double Dutch is very much a Black game, especially in the 70s and 80s (more people of different groups play now, of course, but Black people know what I mean). I know in my spirit Maria taught her, and they played together as a family with Monica.
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bambamnesiac · 2 months
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soooooooo what if i was insane and gave him an orc takeover uwu (hes supposed to have a snout in all of em not just the fullbody but i didnt wanna edit em)
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kayzowl · 4 months
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i've been trying to figure out my take on what an older matthew + guy would look like
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five things that you never get tired of writing
I was tagged by @zaffrenotes - thanks D!  
Rules: List 5 things you never get tired of writing - it can be tropes, themes, characters, phrases, whatever brings you joy. Tag 5 people!
in no particular order: 
found family. choosing the people that matter most, unexpectedly strong or close bonds forming between people, accepting differences and supporting one another.  
natural settings. tree lines and coastlines, mountains and fields and ferns and sunsets, lakes, oceans, waterfalls, twilight and starlight and all the colors and smells and sounds, post-apocalyptic forests and extraterrestrial fauna and leaves changing in the fall.  
smooches. all kinds. breathless ones and sleepy ones, tiny pecks on the cheek and kisses to shut the other person up, goodbye kisses and first kisses and light little brushes, words kissed onto skin and kisses that say more than words. 
myths & magic. legends and prophecies, special abilities, fantastical creatures, the force and the currents and the future and all that jazz. 
flangst. fluff + angst. mixing the bad with the good, putting them through it but making it worth it (i hope), getting through tough times together, hurt and sadness but also comfort and happiness, trust and sacrifice but also warmth and healing. 
tagging a few who might want to play along (but of course anyone who sees this is welcome to!) : @something-tofightfor @oonajaeadira @insomniamamma @writeforfandoms @littlemisspascal
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thesaltyace · 7 months
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My partner is half Filipino and grew up eating white rice almost every day. Over the course of our relationship I've adapted to eating more rice and I really enjoy it. We tend to crave rice based dishes around the same time, which cracks me up. We've synchronized our food cravings!
So last month we went to buy rice from the single asian market in our city and they were out of everything except sweet rice and brown rice. My partner goes, hey, let's just get brown rice and give it a try. It's supposed to be healthier anyway right?
Y'all when I tell you we both actively started avoiding our favorite meals for the sole reason that we'd have to eat the brown rice 💀 💀 💀
It's just not the same. We like the soft bite and stickiness of medium grain calrose rice. Brown rice is too firm and you can feel each individual grain in your mouth bc they don't stick to each other. No. Just no.
We were about to make lemongrass beef last night and I finally broke. "Nope, I can't do it. Get in the car, we're going to the store. I need white rice." My partner is like, "Oh I was just gonna suffer through it. I didn't think you were going to be the first one to break. I'm the asian!" 😂
The rice we usually get was back in stock and we happily went home to stuff our faces. We were both so happy to have our good rice back. I don't care if brown rice is supposed to be better for you - if I dislike it enough to actively avoid eating it, I'm just going to not eat at all, and that's not a health benefit. White rice forever. 🍚
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altruistic-meme · 2 years
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bring back the good men (men who sang country songs about murdering your mothers abusive husband, breaking out of jail, loving and adoring your children, and being so in love with a girl that you break the law)
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littlexstarlightx · 7 months
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~kicks down door~ holy shit who wants to rp for my girl is ready to GOOO thanks to the consumption of the DLC and the movie!
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my sister: *genuinely curious* why are you obsessed with gay characters?
me: remember that time you were brainwashed and told me gay people were blasphemous?
my sister: …
me: …
my sister: …
my sister: we don’t talk about Bruno.
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flatstarcarcosa · 2 years
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bitch shut up this is absolutely just because of the insomnia exhaustion and stuff but the fucking. frank’s fucking torture scene in 112...........the heavy references in tone and motivation to punisher: born.
frank ‘sacrificing’ his family (memory thereof, the implied peace in/after death and reuniting with them) to choose to go back to the mud and the blood and the violence. the comic had the heavy implication that he had a (literal? metaphorical?) deal with the devil in nam that resulted in the park massacre.
frank and micro spending the whole season like bickering husbands, perfectly translating their pre-max comic relationship,
jon bernthal in a tank top covered in blood
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screampied · 6 months
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❛ TOO SWEET! ❜
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geto, toji, gojo, nanami, choso. jjk men who can’t get enough of your sweet taste ‘& becomes needy for your touch.
total wc. 3.0k
warnings. fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, whiney men, unprotected sex, mating press, cowgirl, doggystyle, nipple play, eating out through your panties, dry humping, praise
an. request thank yew aiii, using this req as an excuse to make the jjk men whiney.
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CHOSO ☆ KAMO
“baby w-wait,” he swallows, and choso’s panting heavily. heaving practically…
he just couldn’t keep his hands off you — ever since he told you in that soft, shaky red-handed voice that he ‘accidentally’ swallowed and eaten your freshly new bought sugary-coated sweets. “i feel so…” he murmurs, spinning you around before planting a kiss on your neck, then another, then another. “i need you. y-you smell sweeter than usual.”
“oh..is it that bad?” you stare up at him, a single eyebrow of yours raises, and he whimpers. you’re teasing him. the pout that curls down his lip is just adorable.
choso doesn’t give you a answer. he’s so starved of your wanted touch, all he does is drag a few inelegant awkward steps towards you, bringing you into a deep kiss.
choso cups your face with his big hands, his tongue swipes against yours and he backs you up against the glass cold refrigerator door.
he lets off a delicious moan inside your mouth and you gasp, feeling him spread your legs apart with his knee and your own whimper slips out as he’s kissing you. his body heat against yours was so warm, and every few seconds he broke away to repeat your name underneath his breath his shaky needy whispers. oh… maybe..
it really was that bad…
“are you sure?” you faltered with a shy smile, massaging the nape of your neck with your fingers. choso sat on the bed, his face remained flustered and plastered which nothing but whole heartedly lust and thirst. “this’ll help you um..stop feeling all….you know.”
“baby, yes—please,” he whines, his eyes plead. choso’s entire body felt so hot-tempered, warm.
it was cute seeing him grow frustrated, yet he was still as whiney as always, pink lips of his pursing and pouting as you teasingly and slowly made your way to sit on his face. “t-thank you, thank y—mph..”
your panties were still on but choso could care less, as you plopped down gently on his face — he couldn’t take it.
one single stripe lick between the crevices of your underwear was enough to make you moan out his name, hovering over him while giving him that same timid gaze. “c’mon. i need this, need you,” he’d speak, his own breath was racing against itself, jittery.
he gives your thighs a quick pry with his right hand, spreading your legs and you moan as he’s literally eating you out through your laced panties.
“ride my nose, baby. pleasepleaseplease. wanna savor my pretty girl’s—” and he pauses to breathe, almost forgetting to before moaning out. “..pussy.”
“c-choso..” you panted, starting to ride against his nose. he looked so pretty and submissive underneath you, a smile never leaving his lips as you were continuously starting to cover the lower half of his chin with your sweet slick. “fuck, fuck.”
his tongue was sloppy, never ending with the way it slurps your folds up. teasing your puffy clit with numerous sucks, his head’s swiftly moving and jerking as your hips moved and moved against him. choso reaches down to rub against the brick hard bulge building up in his shorts and he whines.
“c-can i touch myself?” he whimpers, and your heart swoons at him even asking. “….god, i’m so hot for you, baby. you make me so dirty. your taste… ‘s doin' this to me. just.. wanna please you, all night long baby.”
SUGURU ☆ GETO
“m' serious, princess,” geto mutters, gripping onto your shoulders. he looked like he’d just came back from his hourly workout. he’s staring you dead in the eyes, some strands of long black hair sticking to his forehead, and it appears as if he’s nearly out of breath. “i…ate your uh candy. but it’s not like you labeled it or anyt-”
geto freezes for a moment. he grows dramatically stiff, before staring down at his pants then at you. “shit.”
“…sugu, are you hard?” you giggled.
and oh, he grows so embarrassed. geto’s facial expression turns into a cute scowl, his ears grows hot the more he stares at you—and indeed he is.
geto’s boner was sort of hard to ignore. him wearing grey sweats didn’t make things easier either.
“can..can you help me or not? y’don’t know how painful this…is,” he huffs out and seconds later after you comply with a sweet little ‘okay’ he’s got you sprawled out all pretty on the bed. “more hornier than u-usual..” he swallows, leaning in to plant kisses straight down your chest to your stomach before he slides your panties off.
you stared at geto, and he licks his lips, panting. his chest heaved back and forth and he’s sweating a bit, he’s so turned on he feels so hot once he’s easing his way inside your pussy with his dick.
“m-mhm,” he bites his lip, keeping one hand resting on your tummy. you never heard him this whiney before and it was so cute. he doesn’t wanna rush but he can’t help it but start to create a pace with his hips. you moaned once he leaned into you, whining in his low voice, “kiss me, please. kiss me, princess.”
he was so thick. you felt him everywhere, his thrusts were so sloppy against you. more sloppier than usual but he was so driven.
his mind raced and his heart heated ten times faster than it regularly does.
“come here, baby.” you playfully smiled, moving his long dancing hair strands from his face and he deeply kissed you with tongue. hearing you say ‘baby’ got him more turned on.
the candy, your taste, and just your smooth sweet voice alone was gonna be the death of him.
“okay, okay…” he pants, you wrap your arms around him as his body weight lightly lingers against your chest. he’s so sensitive, warm as he leans in to kiss you for a second time.
it’s more quick and steamy. your tongue collides against his and you taste the sweet tang of the intoxicated candy residing on his tongue. you moaned at his hips smacking against yours at such rhythm. geto lets off a soft whiney purr at the way you comb a hand through his hair.
his lips were connected to yours for what seemed like forever. his warmth radiates against your skin as his body rocks against you.
“so sweet,” he murmurs, breaking away for a brief moment, his cock taps against your most sensitive bits and you whine. geto’s gentle but can’t help but be a bit crazy with thrusts, his strokes that made you dizzy. “i-i need more,” he huffs out, kissing the side of your mouth, then your neck, then your chest.
geto’s still huffing and puffing as he’s inside of you—each stinging slap he creates with his hips, you run into him and he moans, raising your right leg up, the leg that was wrapped around his waist to lick a long stripe up it while keeping direct eye contact. “can’t get enough.. ‘n it’s all your damn fault, princess.”
NANAMI ☆ KENTO
“sweetheart..”
is all your boyfriend says. you’re bent over the counter, and he pauses, you slip off a moan as nanami’s pressed up against you. his voice sounds lower than usual, raspy and somewhat whiney..? he intakes a breath before lifting the fabric of your sundress up. “i don’t want you to..see me like this.”
“kento, baby,” you shyly smile, not even facing him. “i told you yesterday not to eat the candy. the side effects are um…strong.”
with one hand, nanami tugs on his tie back and forth, he’s hot. “i’m aware of that now,” he grunts and you let off a gasp, feeling his hard boner rub against your ass. he grabs onto your waist and starts to make you grind your ass against him and he swears underneath his breath.
“fuck me,” he mutters in frustration. “forgive me, s-sweetheart but i just…i really wanna take you right here over this counter. restrain your cute hands with my tie and..”
“what’s stopping you then?” you teased.
and that was all it took nanami couldn’t hold back anymore, the lust overtook him and it was too strong. your cloying fragrance alone had him so tipsy. you’re perfectly arched over the sleek shiny, granite kitchen counter. nanami’s ruthless with his hits against your core. “k-kento..”
you’d moan out, your own hands pinned against your back with the neatly tie restraining your wrists, not too tight but just enough. you’re just bent over with the most perfect arch.
he’s so warm as he sloppily thrusts against you, again and again. his tip brushes against between your folds and you whimper out from how good he’s hitting you from behind. he’s got an exquisite tempo of roughness but also very gentle.
nanami grunts with the way your ass kisses against him each time. he purposely grows quiet to hear the hard hits, yanking on your pretty sundress. “jus’ like that, baby,” he’d moan out, barely able to contain himself. “throw yourself back…against me, jus’ like that…goddamn, girl.”
you were hunched over, wrists still restrained with his striped tie, a good grip of you as you’re being pounded ruthlessly against the counter. he’s never felt this horny and aroused before, hot and cold describes his heat and he groans at the way you move against him.
his dick reached you in each crevice, each spot with such ease you’re whining. you covered his base with your slick, he gets so hard from the recoil the more he stares down. nanami eyes the way the pretty sundress you wore—the one he bought you for valentine’s day, was all wrinkled and lazily pulled up to your waist. “s-so good, kento. more..”
“good, want you to feel good,” he rasps, caressing your bare ass once more. once his fat tip reaches your g-spot with a single hit you choke out his name and it sounds so pretty. “arch that pretty back just a more for me, pretty.”
you do and he gives you a soft encouraging spank, just to hear you whimper out kentooo. it drives him crazy, you drive him crazy—he’s so obsessed with the way your ass jerks back against him.
one swift smack and you moan, he slides a tongue across his lip, grunting at the way the recoil just bounces against him. he’s so dizzy, holding on to your hips, a firm grip and making you move back and forth before he starts panting.
“a little more, sweet girl,” and you do, moaning once his hefty base smacks against your ass. he starts to get a bit whiney, despite his low pitched voice, he’s completely losing composure. “all the way down, bend for me….y-yeah,” he stutters, and you get shivers, feeling nanami teasingly run two fingers down your spine.
“fuck, you’re gonna milk me, honey. make a…damn mess out of me.” and you do—because not even moments later, nanami ends up spraying thin ropes of of his cum all over your pussy, painting it like a canvas. “got me all messy just for you, p-princess.”
FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI
toji’s hungry ass genuinely doesn’t care. 
the moment he spots a pocket-sized, untouched velvet box of tasty sweets with cute neat handwritten of a sharply that wrote ‘DO NOT EAT ME!!” he pays no mind.
eating it, savoring the rich taste of caramel and cinnamon. he’d probably eat in front of you just to spite you.
yet, the last thing you’d expect would be to return home to a needy whiny toji. 
“hey…girl,” you hear from behind you. he sounds worn out, as if he’d run a marathon.
he greets you with an awkward hug, which is more so just him feeling on your ass, his boner poking against your leg and he intakes your sweet scent before grunting into your neck.
“i…i ate the fucking candy. and all of a sudden you smell sweeter than..than usual and, shit.” he sighs, feeling your soft lips kiss the side of his mouth, his scar. “look. i just..i need you, bad,” and he sounds embarrassed, not even presenting you eye contact. 
his eyes hide underneath his long uncut strands before he continues, picking you up while gripping down on your thighs. “but..maybe this’ll fuckin’ help..”
and by that…he means putting you in a simple mating press, toji’s stuffing you full of cock, he’s doing more moaning than you which is surprising.
his weight that lodges over your pussy just smacks against you each and everytime. he’s treating you like a rag doll basically. you’re just dumbly being stuffed full of inches, holding onto his beefy arms while he’s thrusting in and out, smack after smack it makes your ears ring.
“mhm yeah baby—girl,” he’d choke out, and you’re squeezing down on him so tight it makes his jaw clench. “so damn…hot, fuck i need more…gotta overflow this pussy s’good it’s drippin’ out.” and you whimper at him clamping down on you.
his thrusts became so nasty and sloppy, barely any rhythm. 
toji looks so pretty when he’s needy. deranged, but pretty. he’s sweating a bit, beads race down the sides of his forehead, toned muscles were tense, including his back muscles. yet he blinks twice again.
slowing his strokes just a bit before groaning. “f-fuck, nasty bitch y’er tryna milk m-me?” and he whines—a gasp wretching from his mouth before that’s when toji realizes. 
he came early.
toji stares at you, panting heavily, bottom lip quivering as he’s still got you in a mean mating press. your legs were just dumbly in the air, twitching and you moaned at feeling his cum trickle down your slit, oozing out of you.
“toji baby, did you just whine?” you teased, heaving yourself. and toji showcases a glare, bringing a swift spank towards your pussy and you moan. 
“say…say that shit again…” he murmurs, all out of breath. he sits up, still stuffed deep inside you, his thick sheeny triceps flexed as he had them pressed against the sides of you.
“say what?”
he’s so embarrassed—a sheepish expression washes over him, tips of his ears were fuming with hotness before he grumbles, pulling out just to avert his eyes towards your messy pussy. “fuckin’….call me…baby again...please.”
“call you baby, yeah?” you teased, and he glares, a cute scowl on his face
“…you heard me, whore.”
GOJO ☆ SATORU
“hey, you’re back,” he utters, hugging you from behind. he smells so good—peppering your neck with a variety of chaste kisses, he sounds a bit shaken up and he’s far more clingy than usual.
the minute you hug turn around to hug him, softly running a finger down his undercut he lets off a moan. “y-your touch. ‘s been so long since-”
“toru i was only gone for three hours,” you mumbled, and he stared at you.
his entire face was flushed, his usual fluffy and well was all in his face. messy, ruffled, and he was sweating just a bit.
“why-” then you pause, moving your eyes towards the night stand to see the empty wrappers of candy scattered everywhere. “you- did you eat those?”
“no,” he immediately says, with a swift head shake, before letting off an ashamed, “yes.. i couldn’t help it. i thought you were just joking about the um…horniness.. but baby, i-i need you on top of me.”
he was so desperate.
you decided to 'help' him, in his way he wanted you to ride him so the lust could wear off, hopefully.
gojo’s so loud, slouched back against the squashy pillows of the sofa.
his head goes back before gripping your waist, whining at the way your hips rollicked against him. “f-fuck me more, touch me more. kiss me..baby please, ‘m so hot, pussy’s making me burn up, fuck..”
“satoru,” you mumbled, bucking your hips against him and it makes you suck your teeth. he was so big, easily stretching you out, molding out your pussy with such grace.
“stop talking.” you moaned, rocking back and forth. his cock, the girth of it stretched inside of you and you bite down on your lip.
gojo’s hair nearly covers his eyes, and he’s panting and whining each second. the way you clamp and squeeze around him makes his head spin.
“m-make me, girl.” he pouts.
you rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss him and gojo moans in your mouth. the slim tip of his tongue ran against yours and he was so sloppy, breathing out his nose. he squeezed your ass with his left hand before whimpering once he started to bottom out.
he pulls away, simultaneously grabbing one of your breasts to latch his lips onto your perky nipple, a sweet attempt to hide his moans but he was still loud.
“mph,” he muffled, blue eyes staring up at you as you rode him so good his eyes nearly starts to roll back and you moan from the stimulation. his orgasm came so hard that he’s almost seeing stars. he painted your insides white—so much came out, it’s like he’s been saving his old just for you, he couldn’t stop tottering while being beneath you.
that’s when he lets out a sharp breath—tapping you lightly with his bottom lip visibly poking out.
“can..can you praise me?” he pants, you slow down your rhythm and gojo’s pupils dilates a bit, he swallows before moaning once you lean in to kiss near his neck. “your voice gets me so..tingly.”
“you did so good, satoru,” you hummed, kissing his nose, then his neck, then his chin, he’s still buried inside and he can’t stop moaning from your touch.
you run a finger down his v-line and he whimpers, his eyes following your movement and he was indeed warm. “…good boy.”
“jus’ hearing you talk ‘s gonna make me cum again, baby.” he choked out.
his soft shaky moans go against your ear the minute you start to ride him again, a slow yet sensual pace and he’s about to lose his mind. “don’t s-stop fucking me please. ‘m your good boy. all yours...fuck.”
26K notes · View notes
yandere-daydreams · 6 months
Text
Title: Idolification.
Pairing: Yandere!Itadori Yuuji x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 5.0k.
TW: No Curse/College AU, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation, Oral Sex, Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (Reader's 27, Yuuji's 22), Intimidation, Brief Mommy Kink, Pepper Spray, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
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“I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”
“It was an accident, you don’t have to—” Yuuji was cut off by another splash of milk, quickly followed by another jet of water. Her makeshift treatment was harsh, the temperature alternating unpredictably between ice cold and scalding hot, but Yuuji took the abuse with a smile that was almost bright enough to distract you from the red, aggravated skin around his eyes. Almost. “It’s alright,” he managed, eventually, doing his best not to sound like he was being slowly drowned in your bathtub. “Believe it or not, that’s only the second worst thing I’ve gotten in my eyes.”
Knowing him, it was probably closer to the fourth or fifth, but that did little to ease your guilt. He’d been leaving as you were getting home from your second twelve-hour shift of the week, and from there, it’d been a comedy of errors. He spotted you coming down the hall, haggard and bleary-eyed, and saw the babysitter who’d spent more summers than not keeping him (and, by association, his older half-brother) out of trouble before their family fell off of the face of the planet, and reacted the way Yuuji reacted to most things – with open arms and a contagious smile. You’d looked at him, a far cry from the kid you’d spent so much time looking after, and seen a very strange, very grown man loitering outside of the door to your shoebox of an apartment before charging towards you with a manic expression and, well, you had always wanted an excuse to use the pepper spray you carried near-religiously. It was only a shame it had to be on someone as sweet as Yuuji.
Now, you were on your knees on the floor of your bathroom, your fingers tangled in Yuuji’s hair as your roommate gently waterboarded him with a cartoon of organic oat milk in one hand and your decade-old showerhead in the other. The front of his t-shirt was soaked through, his lung half-flooded at least, but he was still grinning like you’d greeted him with a blank check and a litter of puppies. “Honestly, it’s on me,” he insisted, his enthusiasm too potent not to be genuine. “Miss Shoko mentioned she was living with someone.”
At the mention of your roommate, Shoko Ieiri, your attention shifted to the woman in-question. You weren’t an idiot. After the shock died down, it hadn’t taken long for you to piece together why a young man would be rushing to get out of your apartment while your attractive (albeit, socially dead) roommate was home alone. When she met your prying eyes, you shot her a pointed glare. “Cradle rocker.”
She threatened to turn the showerhead on you, but relented as soon as you flinched away. “He’s in one of my classes,” she muttered, then pushed herself to her feet with a soft groan. “We’re out of milk,” she said, shaking the empty carton. “Let his eyes air-dry. I’ll be in my office – come get me if he starts crying again.”
“I’m a doctor too, y’know.”
“You’ll be a doctor in another year. Right now, you’re an intern.” She eyed Yuuji wearily. “An intern who physically assaults her patients, at that.”
Without any real way to retort, you stuck your tongue out – a gesture Shoko mimicked as she slipped out of the crime scene that was your bathroom. Despite Shoko’s advice, you fished a towel off the nearest rack and handed it to Yuuji, who accepted it with a grateful hum. “I really am sorry,” you repeated, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, it’s been so long, and you look so different, and god, it’s been—”
“—ten years,” Yuuji filled in, probably tired of hearing you repeat the same two excuses. “I remember, ‘cuz you invited us to your graduation that year. I wanted to go, too, but Gramps got sick and…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with an airy chuckle. “You know how it is.”
“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I loved your grandfather. How is he?”
Yuuji’s smile wavered for the first time. “He passed, actually. A few years ago.”
Fuck.
If the building was going to collapse and bury you in the rubble, that would’ve been the time.
“Sukuna’s doing good, though,” Yuuji went on, kind enough to pretend there hadn’t been a lapse. “He opened a restaurant a few months ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it’s been keeping him out of the ring.” His expression brightened. “And you’re a doctor! I mean, I knew you would be, but you’re a doctor!”
You felt your face heat up his brother’s name, your eyes falling to the tiled floor. “Almost a doctor. I just started my internship.” And they’d already managed to work you half to death. “You’re in med school, right? Shoko never teaches undergrad.”
“It’s my first semester,” he said with a slight laugh. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be, though. Miss Shoko offered to give me a few pointers, but, y’know—” He sighed, let his head lull back. “I’m starting to think I’m just not smart enough for stuff like this.”
“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about yourself. You’ve always been—” You cut yourself off with a sudden gasp, clapping your hands together. “If you’re struggling, let me help you study! I have tomorrow off, and I promise, I’m not as strict as Shoko.”
Immediately, he straightened up, your towel still strung around his neck and his smile returned to its full brightness. It only dimmed slightly when he glanced down at his damp shirt. “…there won’t be as much pepper spray this time, right?”
His smile was as contagious as it’d been when he was still a kid, begging you to let him stay up yet another hour past his already-lenient bedtime. Despite his bloodshot eyes and your lingering, only slightly lessened guilt, you found yourself biting back a grin.  
“No pepper spray, this time. I promise.”
~
“Room for one more?”
She glanced over her shoulder as you struggled past the jammed sliding door, taking a moment to evaluate your stiff shoulders and strained smile over the thick frames of her glasses before nodding curtly. Your relief was immediate and all-encompassing. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to do anything but shake your head and flee the country when Yuuji invited you to hang out with a few of his friends, but he’d sworn up and down that it wasn’t a party and promised that you wouldn’t be out of place and pouted in a way you’d never been able to resist. You were starting to think that, no matter how old you got, you’d never learn to say ‘no’ to Yuuji.
The blaring music was only vaguely muffled by the glass, the blurry outlines of other guests playing behind thin curtains. There was a red solo cup in your hand, a lipstick stain on your cheek from a girl who’d passed out half an hour ago, but you were hyper-aware that you were too old to be at a college party with people at least half a decade younger than you, in the best cases. You braced yourself against the balcony railing with a soft groan, crossing your arms and hanging your head low enough to warrant a hum of sympathy from the woman next to you. She held up a box of cigarettes – the cheap kind you and Shoko used to split on the days you had to decide between food and rent – and you accepted her offer with the kind of gratitude you could only assume a starving lion would’ve shown to a limping gazelle.
“Maki,” she said, shaking one into your open palm and fishing a lighter out of her pocket. “You’re one of Itadori’s friends?”
“You could say that.” You let her light you up before taking a shaky drag, the bitter taste a welcome distraction. “I’ve been tutoring him for a few weeks. I think he just invited me as a way to say ‘thank you’.”
Her eyes flashed with recognition, the corner of his lips turning upward for the first time. “You’re the chick who used to babysit him. (Y/n), right?”
“He’s mentioned me?”
“He won’t shut up about you. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘(Y/n) this’ or ‘(Y//n) that’.” She tapped her cigarette against the edge of the railing, sending a few flakes of ash fluttering down to the street below. “Megumi gets it the worst, but we’ve all had to see the fucking pictures.”
“That… that sounds like him.” You forced out a half-hearted laugh, then wavered. “I’m sorry, pictures?”
Maki opened her mouth, but the balcony door was jerked open before she could respond. Yuji appeared in the open entryway, cheeks flushed and grin wide. He drawled your name in a single slur before moving on to more important topics. “We found a—We found a karaoke machine! ‘gumi thinks he can get it running!”
You sent Maki an apologetic look, but she only shrugged, a sliver of a grin. “Better get him tucked in.”
This time, when you smiled back, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
~
It took a month for Yuuji to start ‘forgetting’ his textbooks when he came over for your little study sessions.
It took three for Yuuji to drop the pretense of studying at all – calling you out to some late-night diner or lethargic early-morning café or, better yet, showing up at your apartment door unannounced and empty-handed with only that unnerving smile and a half-baked excuse to spend time with you.
It took six for his hand to drift just a little lower than your shoulder while you watched some awful, b-rated horror movie on your well-beaten couch. You let him reach your waist before clearing your throat and shifting away, your smile pained.
“I… I think you should probably leave,” you half-mumbled, your voice shaking. “It’s getting late.”
“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Predictably, Yuuji was undeterred. His persistence used to be endearing, but now, it just felt unfair. “I don’t mind sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not like we’ve never spent the night together.”
A nervous laugh, his hand planted just a little too close to your thigh. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like—”
“I mean, I know I’m your type.” It was almost impressive, what he could say with such an innocent expression. His free hand found its way to your other side, pinning you between the arm of the couch and his broad chest. “I know you had a thing for Sukuna, and everyone says we’re practically identical. That means you should be into me too, right?”
“Yuuji,” Your eyes darted to your phone, left absent-mindedly on your coffee table. The urge was there, but it wasn’t like he would actually hurt you. He’d always been a sweet kid – a little overzealous, but that wasn’t a crime. This was just… a bad decision, one you had to stop him from making before he did something he’d regret. “Sukuna is my age, and—”
“I don’t care about that.” He cut in swiftly, definitively. His bright eyes had glazed over, catching the dim light of your T.V. as he leaned in further, as his face came to hover less than a full breath away from yours. “I’ve loved you since I was eight. Can Sukuna say that?”
“That’s not—”
“I know you used to fuck him.” His chest was touching yours, now, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’d fuck him again, if he was here. I know—”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish. It was a weak blow, simultaneously hesitant and instinctual, but your open palm made contact with his cheek with a deafening crack, his head snapping to the side and putting that much more distance between his body and yours. He moved to cup his swelling cheek, and you took the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and stumble to your feet. “I think you should leave,” you repeated, the words spat hastily enough to blend together. “Please, Yuuji.”
For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.
Then, he turned to face you, his smile wiped away and his expression so blank, you couldn’t remember how you’d ever looked at him and saw anything other than void.
He didn’t say anything, only pushing himself to his feet and shambling out of your living room. You kept your eyes on the ground until his footsteps faded out of earshot, until you heard the front door creak open and slam shut with enough force to shake the walls.
When you were sure he was gone, you collapsed onto your couch and laid motionless while an actress screamed in the background.
~
“Your golden boy’s asking about you, again.”
You groaned, buckling at the waist and burying your face in your arms. Shoko glanced up from the exams she was grading, but whatever sympathy she might’ve felt apparently didn’t warrant the effort it would’ve taken to reach across the table to comfort you. “Satoru’s been getting it, too,” she went on. “That’s how you know it’s bad. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to talk over that narcissist.”
“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t remember how many times you’d already apologized for Yuuji’s recent fixation. “He’s… probably just worried about his grades, or something.”
Her lips quirked into a frown. “What are you talking about?”
“I was helping him study,” you admitted, reluctantly. As much as Shoko had to hear about your unruly patients and patronizing coworkers, you’d been less open about how much time you were spending with a student fresh out of undergrad. “He’s never been that good with school. I used to have to help him with his homework in elementary school, too.”
This time, she decided your conversation was important enough to earn her full attention. “Itadori’s one of my best students.”
You felt your chest tighten. “But, the first time he came over, you were tutoring—”
She said your name, curt and blunt, and you went quiet. With a sigh, she shook her head, dropping her pen entirely. “When was the last time I offered to personally tutor a struggling student?”
You swallowed dryly. “Never.”
“And when was the last time I gave our full address out to literally anyone?”
“Never,” you said, again. After a second, you added, “Well, there was that one time with Iori…”
“Not the point. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the kid’s a creep. You might have to—”
She was cut off by your phone buzzing against the table. Your eyes scanned over the caller’s name scrawled across the dim screen before moving back to Shoko, her gaze now narrowed into a sharp glare. “Don’t.”
And, for a second, you didn’t. You convinced yourself that you wouldn’t. You told yourself that, after you bought Satoru around of drinks as an apology, you’d do… you’d do something about Yuuji, even if you weren’t sure what you could do, just yet.
Then, you let yourself picture the kid you used to watch for a few dollars an hour while his grandfather was sick and his brother was on the other side of town doing something dubiously legal at best, dead in a ditch at worst – all wide eyes and scuffed elbows and lopsided grins. You let yourself remember the way he’d ramble about his day after you picked him up from school, and how excited he was the first time you made it to one of his school’s sports days, and how he’d clung to you and sobbed the day before his family moved to the other side of the country. At the time, you’d been thankful to have one less responsibility, relieved that you’d never have to see Sukuna again. You’d been selfish, even for a kid.
The phone was in your hand in a moment, the call answered in another. You stood as you brought it to your ear, hoping that would be enough to block out Shoko’s mumbled cursing.
“Yuuji?”
~
The silence in your car was thick, nearly suffocating.
It’d been one of Yuuji’s friends calling from his phone – the dark-haired one with the monotone voice, barely audible over the blaring music of whichever nightclub they were standing outside of. He’d asked you to, in his own words, ‘come get your problem child’, and when you’d asked why Yuuji needed you specifically, he’d only handed the phone back to Yuuji and let you listen to a full minute of whining, your name the only coherent thing to make it off of Yuuji’s tongue. Shoko urged you not to go, and yet, twenty minutes later, Yuuji was slumped over in your passenger seat, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in an uncharacteristic frown.
He was less talkative than he’d been on the phone. The clingier stages of his inebriation had passed, leaving room for a disassociated sort of passiveness that meant, even if you’d been brave enough to try and start a conversation, his response wouldn’t be anything worth that kind of effort. By the time you reached his apartment complex, the knot sitting at the pit of your stomach was equal parts dread and second-hand embarrassment, but you tried to keep your tone light as you turned to him. “It’s time to get out, Yuuji.” And then, when he failed to move, “You’re on your own from here.”
He looked at you, eyes unfocused and hands folded almost childishly over his lap. You softened more than you should’ve at the sight. “…do you need help getting home?”
A second of thought, a quick nod. You shouldn’t. You knew that you really, really shouldn’t.
And yet, somehow, you found yourself in front of Yuuji’s door, fussing over the lock as Yuuji clung to your side, his face buried in the dip of your shoulder. He was cooperative enough; able to stand on his own with minimum swaying but not so lucid that it took more than a gentle suggestion to lead him to his bedroom, where he was more than happy to collapse onto his unmade bed. With a shaky exhale, you turned to leave, but something caught on your sleeve – Yuuji’s hand, when you could bring yourself to check.
“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice dampened by the sheets his face was buried in. “Please?”
You felt your throat go dry. “I can’t.”
You expected him to go shrill and whiny, but he proved to be a touch more mature than the ten-year-old you used to babysit. Rather flatly, he asked, “Why not?”
How were you supposed to answer that? Would it be good enough to say that you didn’t want to, that you couldn’t spend your night looking after a drunk kid you’d known a decade ago, that you’d already done more than you should’ve just by giving him a ride? Was it worth trying to talk to him at all when he could barely hold his head up? Would it do anything to soften the burn of the bile rising into your throat to point out that, the last time you’d been in the same room as him, he’d tried to—
No, it wasn’t and it wouldn’t and you had to leave. With your heart racing in your chest, you tried to jerk yourself out of his hold, but his vice-grip only grew tighter, his head rising up from the mattress just enough to let him stare at you with those big, bleary eyes. “Why not?”
“Yuuji, this isn’t—”
He was so, so much stronger than he had been, the last time you’d seen each other. One second, you were on your feet, at his bedside, and the next, you were on the floor of his bedroom, forced onto your hands and knees while Yuuji’s body pressed into yours from above. “I love you,” he said, his voice as steady as it’d ever been. “I love you, and I—Fuck—” He panted against the back of your neck, something uncomfortably stiff grinding against your ass. “It makes me so fucking hard when you say my name like that.”
A hand slipped under the hem of your top, his palm pressing into the small of your back. You moved to speak, then thought better of it, biting into your bottom lip as your anxious squirming turned to full-blown struggling. Yuuji only laughed, the noise airy and affectionate, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you that much closer to him – making it that much more impossible to get away. His free hand worked clumsily at your top; drawing it up and over your head. You fought against it at first, but froze the first time you felt something stretch a little too far, heard fabric tear. This couldn’t happen, but you absolutely couldn’t be stranded in Yuuji’s apartment with no clothes and no way out.
With his face buried in the back of your shoulder, he cupped your chest, catching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinching with just enough force to draw a low, strained whimper from the back of your throat. “So cute…” He nuzzled deeper into your neck as his touch drifted. Your skirt was drawn downward – a long piece, something you’d thrown on without much thought – then discarded completely, his own shirt wrestled off in the same motion. You felt his fingertips slip under the hem of your panties, but he pulled away and straightened his back, instead. For a second, you let yourself believe that he’d come to his senses, that whatever sick idea he’d gotten into his head had finally worn off, but the arm wrapped around your waist only drew tighter, hauling you off of the floor and into his arms. You were dropped unceremoniously onto the edge of his bed, and Yuuji sunk onto his knees between your open legs.
“I know you’ve probably slept with other people – aside from my brother, I mean. It’d be nice to find out you haven’t, though.” His tone was distant and dreamy. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough for how he’d been acting earlier. Not drunk enough for what he was doing now. He traced the pad of his thumb over your clothed slit, keeping a hand curled around your ankle to keep you in place. “I used to hear you with Sukuna – in his car, and his room, on the couch after you two thought I’d fallen asleep …” He trailed off into an airy laugh. “He likes to show off – always has. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I’d kill him.”
He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh before shifting his attention to your pussy; his tongue laving over the thin material covering your cunt. You were crying, now, openly and audibly – your choked sobs almost loud enough to block out Yuuji’s quiet groans and pleased grunts. However his obsession might’ve made him think he felt about you, your distress didn’t seem to affect his appetite. Your panties were pulled down your legs and slid into some unseen pocket. With the last barrier between you and him gone, he was free to trace his tongue over your slit, to latch onto your clit and suck in a way that made you want to bury your face in your hands and scream. You tried to – crossing your arms over your face, but any sound you tried to make was quickly strangled into a broken moans as his tongue fucked shallowly into your pussy. It was invasive, disgusting, but your body didn’t care. You felt cunt clench around him as his nose ground into your clit, his need for air irrelevant while he spread you open with his tongue. Your thighs clenched shut, attempting to block him out, but his only response was a reverberating groan – and hand on your thigh encouraging you to squeeze him that much tighter.
You couldn’t tell which you hated more; the unwanted stimulation or the fact that your body was reacting to it, heating up where you needed it to go cold. As he sunk further into you, ate you out like a beast starved, you clenched your eyes and willed yourself to go numb, to ignore the sloppy sound of your slick on Yuuji’s lips. It was useless, though, as futile as trying to ignore him in the first place. Your back arched off the bed, legs twitching where they hung limply over his shoulders, and—
 —and Yuuji pulled away with a sharp gasp. He was on top of you before you could process that he was moving, his mouth crashing into yours before you could think to avoid him. The kiss was brutal, rushed; all teeth and tongue and lips shoved against yours with enough force to bruise. The only hint of tenderness was the soft, satisfied noise he let out as his tongue raked across yours, the bright grin painted across his lips when he drew back from you. “It’s alright.” He brought a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and brushing away tears with his thumb. “I’ve slept with other people too, ‘cause I knew I’d need a little practice to catch up with you. Could never go all the way, though. I just thought about you, and…” He blushed, simpered, like he thought he could pass himself off as the shy, lip-biting schoolboy with your slick coating his chin. “I guess I just didn’t really want anyone else to touch me. Not when I knew I’d see you again.”
A horrified sob bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal in your chest. Yuuji didn’t seem to hear it, only sighing as he pressed a lingering kiss into your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything,” he muttered, his hands falling to your waist. “I want to take care of you, tonight.”
You watched in stunned, paralyzed horror as he pushed himself to his feet, as he hastily worked off his jeans, his boxers (the dark material already notably stained with proof of his arousal). You made one more feeble attempt to squirm out from underneath him, to get away before his attention turned back to you, but confused and betrayed and so, so exhausted, you didn’t stand much of a chance against Yuuji. All he had to do was glance your way, his expression as warm as it was soulless, to leave you helpless against him.
He was eager enough not to reposition you, not to draw this out with the pretense of romance. With one hand on your hip and the other planted near your head, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and forced himself into you, bottoming out in a single thrust.
It was agony – pure and unrelenting. Any semblance of gentleness, of restraint fell away as soon as Yuuji was inside of you, as soon as your hyper-sensitive cunt clamped down around his cock. He cursed under his breath before collapsing, his chest pressing into yours as he tried to bury himself that much deeper inside of you, to chase the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. As hard as you tried not to think about Sukuna, Yuuji hadn’t been lying when he said they were alike. He was just as insatiable as his brother had been any time you let him but his hands on you; just as rough in the way his hips ground into yours between sporadic thrusts. There’d been bruises, the next day. At least Sukuna had been the type to make sure he was gone by the time the damage set in. You doubted Yuuji would be so kind.
“I—I’m sorry,” he managed as he buckled into you. Panting against the dip of your shoulder, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your ass of the mattress, his brutal pace stuttering as he found a new angle to abuse. “Next time—I’ll be gentle next time, I just need to—”
His cock hit something soft and sensitive inside of you. Reflexively, your hands shot to his back, your nails finding skin and tearing. The moan Yuuji let out in response was nothing short of sinful; hitched and guttural, ragged and loud enough to block out the wet, slick sound of his cock pumping into your cunt. “M—” His hand wraps around your thigh, catching you under the knee and dragging it towards your chest, letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much faster. His face never left the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid to give you space to breathe. “Mommy, ‘m sorry, I need to—”
His teeth sunk into your throat as something hot and thick flooded into your cunt, as your body went stiff and your vision burned white. While his climax was sudden, intense, the peak to a decade’s worth of patience, yours had to be dragged out of you despite your attempts to hold it back, to deny yourself pleasure in the vain hope that it’d somehow be able to convince Yuuji to stop what he’d already finished. It seemed to hold you there in that state of dark, distorted euphoria for minutes – Yuuji’s movements turning slow and languid as he nursed you through your orgasm.
Eventually, mercifully, he went still, going limp above you with his canines still planted in the curve of your neck. If there was any pain, any other unwanted burdens he could force onto you, you were too lost in your own despair to notice, too distant to feel anything other than the mildest tinge of dread as he pulled back, raising his head just far enough to stare down at you, adoration heavy in his eyes and his grin wide and love-struck.
A small, naïve part of you found the sight suffocatingly familiar, while the rest could almost convince itself that you were looking at a stranger.
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Cold nights, red Flannel
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Joel Miller X Afab!Fem!Reader
Summary: when the power goes out in your building Joel is more than happy to let you have his bed, but when his already sore back flares up in the middle of the night he’s given no choice but to share with you. Things play out differently than expected when he wakes up in the morning tangled up with you in between the sheets.
Warnings: SMUT (MDI) 18+ only, slow burn, dead child, dead people and the fire pit, cussing, age gap (reader is in their thirties), alcohol, Joel gets a ✨massage✨ thigh riding, teasing Joel, Dom!Joel, fingering, multiple orgasms, over stimulation, Joel is… big, slight breeding kink, raw p in v (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk.
Joel Miller Master List
Word Count: you’ve read my other stories right? This is long, buckle up butter cup.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The worst jobs earn the most money, it was something you were quick to pick up on, and if you wanted to live the best, you had to do the worst.
The burn pit was busier than usual, truck after truck with what seemed like no end in sight. Everything from your hands to your feet ached, clothes covered in the grey ash irritating your lungs, and the smell was unforgiving. You’ve already added your second bandanna, the lack of clean air nearly suffocating.
“You’re slowin’ down.” The man beside you notes, Texan accent laces his words as he crosses his arms over his chest, voice gruff from being here as long as you have.
“Coming from the man who has taken a water break every thirty minutes.” You snip back, lighthearted in your accusation, looking over to find your ‘coworker’, Joel Miller, tilting his head, brown eyes glaring under salt and pepper eyebrows. He points to the truck behind you, silently telling you to get moving.
You smile even though he can’t see it and turn on your heel, heading for the last body, but your cheeky attitude slips away. You swallow thickly, eyes scanning over the hooded and bound body. They are small in stature, an old cartoon character printed on the back of their white, clean shirt. They look so out of place on the blood and mud stained truck bed.
Only a child.
Joel is quick to notice your sudden hesitation, his own small smile falling as he follows your gaze.
“I’ll get ‘em.”
“No, it’s fine.” You stomp down your emotions, scooping the kid up, to light and frail, and walk them over to the fire. You whisper a prayer, like you’ve done with every child before and toss him over the wall. Soot blows up into the air, orange and red embers dancing among the cloud and you’re forced to pry your gaze away as the flame swallows their body.
“Last one!” A driver yells, the screeching of the reverse alarm cutting through the air. Relief washes over you, closing your eyes momentarily, the day was almost done.
“Son of a bitch.” You turn then, Joel’s looking at the truck in disbelief and when your attention lands on the man in the bed your jaw physically drops open.
The man before you is a literal beast, his height alone impressive but the muscle on him makes you thankful you never ran into him when he was alive.
Had to of been some kind of enforcer.
“Hey, yo, can we like get a horse or something? This guys fucking huge!” You call out to the truck driver who only sneers before disappearing back into the cab.
“It’s fine, I’ve got it.” Joel shushes you, steeping up and dragging the guy by his thighs closer to the edge of the bed, huffing and grunting looking for the best leverage point.
You laugh slightly, steeping back. “Sure, whatever you say cowboy, he’s all yours.” You cross your arms, excited to see how this pans out as Joel tries to position the hulk. To your surprise he’s able to lift the guy onto his shoulder with a strained groan. “Oooo okay, you’ve been working out.” You let out a sharp whistle, his eyes glancing to yours as he stumbles for the fire, giving you a playful wink.
The banter is cut short with his next step though when he cries out in pain, nearly crumbling under the weight as something in his back spasms. You rush forward, grabbing onto the body, helping carry him the rest of the way and over the wall.
“Fuck!” Joel barks, face pinched as he hunches over, hand pressing into his back.
“What happened?”
“My back… I’m fine. “ He grits out between clenched teeth, sucking in a few breaths before trying to straighten up.
Someone blows a whistle, signaling the end of the day and people start to rush past you both for the pay out line, ignoring Joel’s insistent cussing.
You offer your shoulder for him to lean on but he waves away your concern, telling you he just needs a minute to collect himself before you both make your way to get your ration cards.
Instead of signing up for another shift you decide to give yourself the next two days off, hoping to sleep as much as you can before hitting the next work period hard. You walk off to the side, waiting patiently for Joel out of habit as he goes down the list, rubbing at his spine.
Being this far from the fire you realize how cold it is, the setting sun the only indication that it’s about to get colder, and you know spring is still a few months away.
You glance to Joel as he haggles with the enforcer, probably over the shortened pay. Over the last five years you and Joel have worked together on numerous jobs, and he’s never shy to insist the right pay for the services you both provide. Though at first never coordinated, you both realized how effortlessly you worked with the other, always fast and to the point with whatever resources given, both searching for the most money.
You recall noticing him when you arrived at your first job at this QZ, his hair a little less grey back then but eyes just as intense. It wasn’t until your fifth job did you say something to him after catching him watching you for the first hour of your shift at the pit.
With whatever confidence you had, you’d walked right up to him, hands on your hips and chin tilted up with a sarcastic smile. “Does my stalker have a name?”
The notion had been so wildly outlandish that after he stared at you for a minute, mouth open and eyebrows raise, he barked out a laugh. A true belly laugh that had everyone turning their heads in shock and confusion.
It was the talk of the job.
Some new girl got the old grump to laugh.
From that moment on Joel decided to stick close by, your fiery attitude attracting him just as much as your smarts. He taught you how to play the system, which officers were more lenient than others, and when he grew to trust you he began taking you on contraband runs. You picked up on the trade quickly, surprising him when you started going out on your own and Joel knew he’d chosen well.
Joel now limps over, pulling you from your thoughts. “Ya know I have this stuff that can help with that.” You state, turning and walking with him towards your apartments.
“Got some icy hot, I’ll be fine.”
“20 year old icyhot? Yeah that most definitely will do the trick.” Your sarcasm isn’t lost on him as he glares done at you. You raise your hands in surrender, walking the rest of the way in silence as the street bustles with life around you.
Parting ways at your building you watch for a moment as Joel limps along, shaking his head back and forth, a clear sign he’s talking to himself. You snort, grabbing for the door handle only to have it ripped away, your next door neighbor nearly knocking into you as she storms from the building.
“Woah, Joanne, maybe next time you can just run me over and we will call it a day.” You snap, glaring as she turns at the sound of your voice, she’s the buildings ‘manager’, a lose term for someone who takes your money and doesn’t fix a damn thing unless it involves her apartment directly.
Not much has changed since the end of the world.
“The entire building is out! I’m trying to get someone to fix it!” Her wrinkled face is red with anger, greying hair disheveled like she’d been pulling at the roots all day.
“Wait what?”
She rolls her eyes, exasperation clipping her words. “There was construction going on next door and they clipped a line or something. No lights, no heat, no fucking water to the entire building.” She turns on her heel, not bothering for what you have to say next and stomps down the road.
You throw your hands up in frustration, groaning at the sky, mentally cursing whatever was out there when a thought comes to mind. You bite your lip, weighing out your options before you are rushing down the street in search of Joel.
Luck seems to finally be on your side as you round the street corner, finding him leaning against a light post, talking to a man you recognize but can’t place with a name.
Jogging over the shaggy haired man’s eyes flicker to you, his posture becoming rigid before he quickly dismissing himself. Joel turns, expecting an officer or worse, and his expression softens as you slow to a stop beside him. “Heya Sunshine.”
When Joel decided to take you in, he made it very clear to others that ran around in the same under ground circles that you were not to be fucked with, being one of the few in his inner circle gave you a type of immunity not so sparingly given out.
“Hey… shit… my power is out.”
“Did ya forget to pay?” He’s mocking you only slightly, concern still underlining his tone.
“No, it’s the whole building, Joanne said someone must have cut a wire or something… I was wondering if maybe… we’ll I’m still covered in all this…” You hesitate, hoping he will fill in the gap as you gesture to yourself but he only stares. Joel always made you use your words. “I was wondering if I could borrow your shower, I’ll be super quick, I swear.”
Joel nods, looking down the road towards his building. “Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem, give me about an hour to soak my back first and then you can come over.” You’re washed with relief, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight hug, catching him by surprise.
“Thank you, thank you so much!” Before he can reply you’re sprinting down the street and around the corner, he stares after you blinking slowly before looking around, a blush staining his cheeks.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Having only been to Joel's apartment a handful of times, it took you longer than you would of liked to admit to find his door, and there may have been the help of an elderly man along the way.
This time though, as the door opens, Joel is on the other side. His greying hair slicked back and still damp, he’s dressed in a long sleeve shirt with matching black sweats. “Well, don’t you clean up nice.” You make a point to look him over as you step into his apartment, breathing in the warm air.
Joel only snorts. “Yeah, sure. Bathrooms that way, should still be plenty of hot water, I rigged my heater a few months back.”
You smile at that, “What a naughty boy you are, Joel Miller.” You wink following his direction, closing yourself in the bathroom.
Joel leans against his front door for a moment, appreciating this side of you that is rare to see, as much back and forth as you two give each other at work you personality blossoms when it’s just you and him. And damn was it flirtatious. Some way or another you’ve kept a spark of life through the last 20 years that has Joel hooked like an addict, even if he could never bring himself to say so.
In the bathroom you’re pulling out your bath products, setting them next to his and the contrast of them makes you laugh a little. Pinks and purples next to dull grays and blues. You have the fleeting thought to look for something special just for Joel on your next run as you twist the shower nob. The pipes groan before sputtering to life, you wait until the waters just a little to hot before undressing and stepping in. You hiss involuntarily, skin blushing under the heat before you relax.
This was the hottest shower you’d had in years and you might just have to start lying about your power being out to get more of this. You allow yourself to relax for a moment longer before you begin to wash away the day.
*~*~*~*~*~*
You emerge thirty minutes later, steam following behind you, you’re dressed in your better winter clothes, but even that’s a stretch. Your sweater hangs on your frame, three sizes to big and moth eaten, your sweatpants in much the same condition.
Joel glances up at you from his rickety table, two mix match glasses and a bottle in front of him. “Is one of those for me?” He simply pours you a shot, sliding the glass across the table as you take your seat, curling your legs up under yourself. You lift the amber liquid in cheers, Joel mimicking your actions as you down the shot. It burns your taste buds, dropping into your stomach like a lead weight.
Coughing you turn the glass over, face scrunched in disgust making Joel laugh as he pours himself another. “Can’t handle your liquor?”
“Was never much of a drinker before all of this, haven’t acquired the taste just yet.” You manage to wheeze out, rubbing at your chest where it still burns. “Thank you again, it would have really sucked to of gone to bed still covered in that shit.”
Joel stands, chair scrapping across the floorboards. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. Don’t need the whole building knowing I’m giving out free showers.” He gathers the glasses and takes them to the small sink, before opening his fridge, “How do you plan on staying warm tonight?”
“Um, probably throw on a extra layer and pray I wake up with all my toes.” You drum a rhythm on the table, watching him as he pulls a container from the fridge, grabbing two forks and walking over to you.
You attentions stays on the container as he drags his chair closer, setting it on the table. Inside is beef and rice and your stomach grumbles at the sight of it. Your eyes jump to Joel and he give you a smile, handing you a fork. “Eat.”
You know not to look a gifted horse in the mouth, splitting the container down the middle and enjoying the cold food as much as you enjoy the comfortable silence.
Joel suddenly lifts his head, sniffing the air before turning his gaze on you, stopping you mid bite to stare back.
“What?”
“Do I smell… cookies?”
Your face lights up with a grin. “Oh yeah, I was baking in the bathroom.” He doesn’t look amused and it adds to your enjoyment. “Sugar cookies, specifically. You have your contraband, and I have mine.”
Contraband consisting of feminine products you’ve scored over the last few years, keeping nearly 70 other women fairly stocked and your pockets lined.
“Where ya hiding them? Under this?” He plucks at your shirt, distaste written across his face making you laugh, a sound Joel likes a little to much.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Miller.” You raise your eyebrows suggestively earning an eye-roll, his foot nudging your chair.
He slides you the rest of his food as he stands. “You can sleep here for tonight, I’ll take the couch.” He’s talking over his shoulder as he walks into his joined bedroom, leaving you to shovel the rest of the food into your mouth.
“Wait… your back, you should really sleep in your own bed Joel.” You can hear drawers opening and closing before a soft grunt of satisfaction as Joel finds whatever it is he is looking for. “I really don’t want to inconvenience you any further.”
“It ain’t an inconvenience, and my backs fine, the icy hot did the trick, just like I said it would.” He comes back into view carrying a very large red button down flannel, tossing to you. It’s thick, the fabric soft to the touch and smells clean with an underlying musk that’s unmistakably Joel. “That’ll keep you warm, a lot better than what you’ve got on now.”
“Really? Are you-.”
“Don’t argue with me. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to. Okay?”
A light blush tints your cheeks, glancing up at him through your lashes with a sweet smile that has his stomach tightening. “Thank you Joel.”
“You’re welcome.” He rejoins you at the table, watching you pick at a loose thread on the shirt.
Maybe it’s the fact you don’t know much about Joel, or maybe it’s the fact that this is the very first time you’ve been alone with him, no one else in the room, no traders. Curiosity sparks and it’s a hard flame to put out.
“Do you… are there things you miss about before?”
He glanced at you, your eyes still trained on the garment. “What do you mean?”
“Well like… I use to do kickboxing, I miss that a lot… I miss going on coffee dates with my girlfriends… things like that.” You shrug, refusing to meet his gaze incase he thought this was silly, ridiculous even. You were never good at small talk.
Joel is silent for a moment longer, biting at his lip. “I miss football with my brother.”
You smile. “Tommy right? My daddy loved football, he wasn’t going anywhere on Sunday night.” You laugh softly, resting your chin on your knee. “I miss mall Chinese food, they always loaded up so much on those plates and I could never finish it.”
“That was about the only thing I liked at the mall, we didn’t go there much though. I miss my guitar, I don’t even know if I could play it now if I remembered any songs…” Joel chuckles, “I loved the SNL show, tv in general I loved to stay up at night with…” His voice fades off, fist clenched slightly out of your peripherals and though you don’t know much you know at some point during the start of everything he had lost a child.
Clearing your throat you jump to change topics. “Do you like wine?” You lock eyes with him then, his expression a little more retreated.
“I haven’t found one I’m a huge fan of, but I never turn down a glass.”
Your smile does that thing to his stomach again and he can’t stop his gaze falling to your lips for the briefest of seconds. “Well good, there’s this lady I trade with in my building and she makes wine. I’ll have to bring you a bottle one night.”
The corner of his mouth twitches up, “trying to wine and dine me, Sunshine?” A blush creeps up your cheeks turning your smile sheepish.
“Maybe, only if you pay for dinner.”
Joel scoffs, the ease returning to his features as he tilts his head to the side. Your heart hammers a little faster under his gaze. “What a cheap date you are.” He mumbles softly, resting his elbows on the table leaning his head against interlocked hands.
“The cheapest.” You breath back, mirroring his posture. He smiles warmly butterfly’s erupting under your skin giving you that giddy school girl feeling that takes your breath away and turns your brain too mush..
“I’ll look forward to it then.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
You’d only been asleep a few hours when your name reaches your ears, startling you awake. You sit up mattress squeaking under your weight as you peer into the darkness.
“J-Joel?”
His sleep riddled voice bounces back to you. “I need help.” Instantly your scrambling out of bed, flipping on a light as you round the wall to find Joel looking up at you from where he lay on the couch, red faced and defeated.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t get up… I gotta take a piss.” Joel hasn’t felt this level of embarrassment since throwing his back out working with his brother and had to be carried down to the hospital. The feeling only digging deeper as he watches your face fall padding over to him, extending your hands.
“I told you to sleep in your own bed, Joel.” You abolish gently, pulling him to his feet. His grip tightens on your arms, hissing as his back straightens out, taking the moment to get his bearings before he releases you, grumbling something under his breath and limping to the restroom.
You sigh, going to your duffle bag and rummaging through its contents before you finally come across a small bottle of chamomile and lavender.
Joel comes out a few minutes later, eyes trained on the floor. “Sorry.”
“Hey it’s okay, I tore my shoulder apart when I was in highschool and could hardly use it for a year. Had to have people help me all the time.” You try to sympathize with his situation, your expression soft and warm as his eyes find yours. “But, luck for you, I think you only pulled a muscle. And I have something to help with that.” You lift the little bottle shaking its contents.
Joel eyes it suspiciously, crossing his arms over his chest, “I ain’t taken that.”
You scoff, grabbing his bicep, pulling him towards his bed. “You don’t take it, now lay down and lift up your shirt.”
Joel turns on you, looking horrified like you’ve grown two heads all of a sudden. “Excuse me?”
“Just trust me.” You pull him again, squeezing his arm, Joel hesitates, glancing from the bed then down at himself. “I use to be a message therapist. I’ve seen a thousand naked backs, yours isn’t going to be any different.” You encourage, smiling at him as he glances your way.
Sighing Joel relents, kneels onto the bed, pulling his shirt over his head and laying down, folding his arms under his head.
Okay.
Maybe you were wrong.
Joel’s back is defined, scars littering in various stages of time, some more purple compared to others. Shaking your head you swallow your sudden nerves, kneeling beside him. You open the bottle, the smell instantly filling the room and dump it into the palm of your hand, the oil slipping between your fingers, soaking your sweats and you curse silently, setting the bottle onto the night stand.
“Tell me where it hurts the most.” You instruct, rubbing your hands together to warm the oil before placing them on Joel’s lower back, his hips twitching slightly at the sudden contact.
“A little to the right.” His skin is warm and he hums softly under your touch, shifting his shoulders and head, wishing he could see your face. “There.” You set to work, finding the knot in his muscle and kneading the area, digging your thumbs and palms into his flesh.
Joel groans, long and drawn out and a thrill works it’s way down your spine at the sound, “To much?” Your voice is softer than you initially intended it to be, much to sensual sounding.
It’s just a back rub. Nothing more, be more professional.
He shakes his head, his body relaxing fully. “You weren’t lying.” He’s muffled slightly by the pillow but you can hear his smile.
“Yeah I went to school and everything. It’s like riding a bike, you just never forget.”
“Get an A from me darlin’.” Your heart swells with his praise, staying quiet as you continue messaging his back, traveling up to his shoulders and back down to his hips, the silence interrupted occasionally by a soft grunt or groan coming from Joel.
It’s only when he goes quiet, his breath turning even and deep do you stop, whispering his name. When he doesn’t reply you ease away and into the restroom, washing your hands and shedding your oil soaked pants.
Joel’s soft snores are all that can be heard as you stand at the foot of the bed, chewing on your lower lip trying to decide what to do from here. The couch is now free, but there is only one blanket, which is now trapped under Joel. There are enough pillows to maybe set one between you both, make a little barrier of sorts…
Would Joel be mad if he woke up in the same bed as you? You shift your weight from one foot to the other, mind racing with every possible reason as to why he would be mad, before you finally take a deep breath and tiptoe to the other side.
Without giving yourself time to talk yourself out of it you climb under the covers, setting a pillow in between you, praying that Joel won’t be upset in the morning as you drift off.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Joel wakes up slowly, conciseness coming to him little by little with the early morning sun lighting the room. He’s warm, body heavy and mind sluggish from what has possibly been his best sleep in years. Selfishly he wants to hold onto it a little longer, screw whatever he thought he needed to get done today and bury himself back into his dreamless sleep.
It’s only when he shifts, his chin bumping something firm, does he feel the weight on him. Blinking slowly he lifts his head, looking down to find himself tangled up with you. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg slung over his hip while his own is slotted between your thighs, and you’ve seemed to have lost your pants; Joel being granted a perfect view of your black panties that hide little to the imagination.
And all of the sudden he’s overly aware of you, of how soft your waist is under his callused palm, of how you still smell of sugar cookies and lavender, of the little puffs of air leaving you full lips ghosting across his neck. Then there is how his flannel has morphed to your curves, twisted around your body showing the pudge of your stomach and his blood is rushing somewhere… South.
All he can think about is how damn good you look wearing only his clothing. Joel’s heart rate picks up, his fingers drifting to your hair on their own, carding themselves through the soft strands, “Sunshine.”
You hum in your sleep, grip tightening around him as you nuzzle closer, lips brushing the column of his throat making him hold his breath as you settle again.
I’m going to hell.
It’s all he can think, his body so readily responding to you and you’re not even aware of it. You’re in your thirty’s for fucks sakes he shouldn’t even be considering this… but…
Tentatively, his grip tightens on your hair, pulling your head back so he can finally see your face. You look so peaceful, your features soft and delicate in your sleep he almost hates to ruin it. Almost.
“Honey … sweet girl wake up.” Joel’s voice is firmer, cutting into your sleep, rousing you with a small grumble.
“What…” You voice is horse, rolling your head to the side as you yawn, sleep holding on tight.
“It’s just me.” He can’t stop himself, seeing the length of your neck exposed like that, he leans down, gently kissing the delicate skin and you gasp, body tensing slightly. “Just me.” His thigh shifts up, pressing between your own and he can feel the heat radiating off of you through his sweatpants and it makes him feral.
“W-Ah… what are you doing?” You whimper, eyes pinching shut, fingers digging into his ribs as he finds that soft spot just under your ear earning another small gasp.
“Repaying you… For last night.” His grip on your hair disappears, finding your hip and rolling you onto your back. Your eyes snap open, breath trapped in your throat at the intense look of lust etched into Joel’s face. Now that you can fully see him your stomach tightens, need zipping down your spine as your eyes drink him in.
Just like his back his chest is defined, shoulders broad with a light dusting of hair that runs down to his stomach, and just past the waistband of his sweats where you can clearly see the outline of his…
You swallow audible, causing Joel to snort. Your eyes dart back to his and you swear you can feel your body melting with the fire in his gaze. He dips his face closer, bumping his nose against yours and smiles as you nervously squirm, thighs clenching around his where it still rests pressed against your mound.
“This okay?” As he speaks his lips just barely touch your own and you already feel your thoughts emptying out one by one as you nod slowly, eyes never leaving his own. “Tell me, need to hear your sweet voice.”
“Th-this is okay.”
With that he’s on you, restraint snapping as he finally kisses you, rough and hungry and desperate. Teeth, tongue and spit, forcing a moan from your throat with the intensity of it all, that Joel is all too happy to swallow up. His thigh presses in closer, your hips bucking involuntarily, dragging a moan from low in his chest.
Your hands slide up to his shoulders, gripping anything you can find for leverage as he sinks you into the mattress, drowning you in the covers, the pillows, and him.
Arousal consumes you, sparking in your stomach and traveling through your veins making you light headed, having not felt this type of high in many, many years. You grind yourself up against his thigh, your slick wetting your panties and soon creating a darker spot on his sweats.
You moan as he pulls away, attacking your neck again and pulling at your shirt, trying to expose whatever skin he can. “J-Joel… m… what’s.. what’s gotten into you?” Your losing your breath, the hand he isn’t propping himself up with traveling over your body, down your thigh, up your side, fingers sliding along the other side of your throat making goosebumps raise the hairs on your skin.
“Just want you, been wanting you since I laid eyes on you.” He admits, your face flushing with heat. “D’ya know how many times I’ve fucked my hand thinking about you? All laid out and pretty on my cock.” A filthy moan leaves your lips, grinding against his thigh to relieve the ache building between your legs.
Joel sits back, both hands finding your hips, encouraging your movements. “That’s right sweet girl, just like that.” You whine into the air, hands dropping to the bed gripping the sheets. He stares down at you, lust darkening his brown eyes as you grind against him. “Make all those pretty sounds for me, it’s just us.”
You nod, chasing after your building pleasure, breathy moans falling from your lips. Joel ruts against the back of your thigh, hands bruising your hips in the most delicious way. “J-Joel… need more… please…” Your clit throbs painfully, the angle you’re at restricting you from rubbing it how you want against his thigh.
“So greedy, go ahead play with yourself baby, wanna see you cum on my thigh before I fuck you, senseless.” Your fingers find your clit and rub harsh circles through the damp fabric of your panties, flying to that familiar peak, teetering right on the edge as you moan his name, hips frantic, but you need more, you want more.
Joel coos softly, enjoying your struggle. The pinched look, the wobble of your lips, as you search for that last little something. “I know you can do it baby, cum for me. Show me how good you can be and soak my thigh.” His words are your tipping point, sending you spiraling into that void of dark bliss as your orgasm rips through you.
The noises that leave your delicate throat consume Joel, and he’s whispering soft praises that you don’t hear, watching your legs tremble and hand still. “There it is, did so good for me baby.” You go limp underneath him, chest heaving with each shuddering breath, eyes shut and mind to far gone.
“Let me get this off of you.” He takes his time, slowing down to let you ride your bliss, undoing each button of the flannel. “Sit up.” You hardly have to, just lifting your shoulders and head before he throws the flannel across the room and you’re sunk back into the pillows.
Your panties and his sweats follow shortly after. His lips back on you, kissing between your breasts his beard scratching your skin in the most delirious way. “Joel…”
But his fingers are finding your slick heat, a groan reverberating through his chest and into yours. “So fucking wet, you liked that baby? Like getting yourself off on my thigh?” Warm embarrassment fills your belly, reigniting that fire. You nod slowly, keeping your eyes shut to avoid his intense gaze. “You getting shy on me now? Just a second ago you were fucking my leg.” He smiles against your skin watching the red tinting your cheeks grow darker, turning your away from him.
“J-Joel don’t… Don’t be mean.”
“Not bein’ mean.” Two thick fingers are suddenly sinking into you, a shrill cry retching itself from your throat. “Just given ya what ya want.” Your brain turns to mush with each pump of his fingers, hands scrambling to find any perches, a set of nails digging into his shoulder, the other tugging at the sheets. “Fuck… you’re so tight, gotta get you ready for me.”
His thumb finds your clit, working the bundle of nerves making moans echo through the room. Those thick fingers press against that gummy spot inside you that makes your hips stutter, your moans a little louder and he smiles in triumph, teeth nipping your breast watching the skin bloom with red marks. “S’that the spot?”
“Mmhmm…” it takes everything you have just to hum out an answer, mouth hanging open, thighs trembling as you’re brought back to orgasm, again. Climbing that mountain, no running it, to your tipping point.
“Can feel you squeezing my fingers baby, you gonna cum again so soon?” Joel doesn’t need your reply, even if you could give him one, your hips rocking to meet the rhythm he’s set. He doesn’t ease up, watching you come undone below him with a few more expert swipes of his thumb across your throbbing clit.
You make him feel young again, his body thrumming with pure, carnal lust. Something he hasn’t felt in years as he draws his slick coated fingers to his mouth, tasting you for what, hopefully, will be the first time of many. “Mmm… So sweet baby, I could spend hours just eating you.”
You whine pathetically, shaking your head back and forth, hair clinging to your face with sweat. “C-can’t…” Joel shakes his head, laughing darkly before tapping your cheek with the pads of his fingers.
“Look at me, Sunshine.” The timber in his voice makes you obey instinctively, finding his steady gaze. He grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks making your lips pout comically. “I know you’ve got one more in ya, I need to feel your cunt squeeze my cock. Think you can do that for me? Hmm?”
Joel shifts closer as he speaks, settling himself between your shaking thighs. His cock brushes against your puffy lips drawing a small whine from the back of your throat. You nod, Joel letting go of your checks as arousal washes through you once more, almost painfully so, as he rocks forward, the underside of his cock slipping easily through your damp folds, coating himself in your cream.
He hunkers over you, forcing your legs wider and rests on one elbow as he guides his cock to your opening, nudging in. “Relax darlin’, don’t wanna hurt you.”
Before you can even comprehend what is being said Joel thrusts forward, sinking in a few inches with a grovel moan. Your toes curl, eyes squeezing shut with a whine, the stretch hurting in a way you never want to stop.
“F-fuck Joel… s-so big.” A hand slips into his hair, tugging harshly causing him to gasp, a wicked smile pulling at his lips.
“You haven’t seen nothin yet, little girl.” He pins you to the mattress with his weight, thrusting until he’s fully seated inside you, heavy balls pressed to your ass. Your pussy squeezes him tightly, pain mixing with the pleasure intoxicatingly. He’s big, bigger than any man you’d been with in years, and as he pulls out only to thrust back in, the head of his cock kisses your cervix.
“Oooooh fuuuck!” You cling to his shoulders, his neck, his back, legs locking around his middle; anywhere to pull him closer as his pace evens out, fucking into you roughly. The old bed squeaks, headboard tapping the wall and above it all are the sounds leaving your lips to mix with his.
“Feel so good baby… been dreaming about this pussy.” Joel huffs out between thrusts, pressing his forehead to yours. The farther he slips into his arousal the thicker his accent gets, words dripping onto your nerves like honey.
“Wanted you to… so long Joel .” You pant, rocking your hips to match what he’s giving you. That glorious pressure building again in your body, cunt fluttering around his cock. “Don’t stop… oh fuck please don’t stop.” You can feel every ridge and vein rubbing along your walls in just the right way, his mushroom head bullying that sweet spot making your eyes roll.
“Not gonna stop, baby. Not gonna stop.” Joel groans, one hand gripping your waist to steady himself as he bullies his cock into you.
Your fingers slip between your bodies, finding your clit with a soft moan, rubbing tight circles. “I’m… im gonna cum…” you whine against his lips, noses bumping, breathing each others air.
“Come on then… cum on my cock baby, let me feel it.” Joel knows he won’t last much longer his thrust starting to turn sloppy. “Fuck… wanna fuck you full of me, watch it drip out. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Let everyone know who fucked you so good huh?” You thighs squeeze his hips in response to far gone to acknowledge him as you topple over the edge, crying his name as the pleasure blinds you momentarily.
Joel cusses burying his face in the side of your neck, your cunt sucking him in . “Fuck baby, fuck baby, fuck!” He pulls back, cock twitching and jets of cum landing on your stomach and abused lips. He fists himself, grunting against your shoulder as he comes down, body relaxing and dopamine flowing through him.
“J-Joel…” You breath, feeling his weight more and more.
“M’ Sorry…” He whispers, rolling himself onto his back, your stiff legs dropping to the mattress. You’re both panting wildly, chests heaving and sweat coating your skin.
You blink at the ceiling slowly, the neurons in your brain starting to fire again. “Well…” A small laugh bubbles out of you, Joel lazily looking over at you confused. “I’ve never been woken up like that before.”
Joel scoffs loudly and your giggle turns into a full laugh, lifting your head to look down at yourself. “Do I at least get a rag?”
“Better, ya can come get in the shower with me.” Joel groans as he sits up, giving you his hand. “Gonna need another one of those messages after that.”
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