#I hear nothing from this guy in years and THIS is what he jumps back into my life with!?!?!?!?
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with a broken heart — r. cameron
part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)
series: every few lifetimes
❝ i was grinning like i'm winning
i was hitting my marks
'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞
pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader
context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.
words: 2.4k+
warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF
"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."
"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you.
when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.
"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."
a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."
"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.
"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"
"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.
hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"
"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."
"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."
except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.
"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.
what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner?
—
"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.
the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.
"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"
"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.
he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.
he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.
"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.
"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."
"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."
you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."
"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.
"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.
"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"
"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."
"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."
you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."
"yeah," he grins. "you too."
you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"
"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.
"you got any plans tonight?"
"rafe, i-"
"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"
wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you.
"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."
despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."
—
the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.
"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.
you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.
"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.
"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.
"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.
"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."
"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."
"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"
"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."
the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."
subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."
the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.
you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"
"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.
"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.
"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"
"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."
he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."
"you really think so?"
"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"
"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."
he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.
"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.
"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"
"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"
"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."
you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.
"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.
"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."
"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."
you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"
"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"
"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."
that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."
"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"
he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.
—
after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.
and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.
"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."
"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"
he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.
"rafe-"
"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"
"i-"
"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.
the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.
"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."
your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.
"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."
"okay," you whisper.
"what?" he musn't have heard you right.
"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.
a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"
you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."
part 3 coming soon!!
i'm rooting for them tbh
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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#rafe cameron#rafe#obx#rafe obx#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fic#rafe fic#rafe fluff#cute rafe#obx fic
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Clark swore he only turned away for a moment but when he looked back, there was a silhouette in the formerly empty corner. He jumped, inhaling sharply, before he registered the bat cowl.
“Do you have to sneak up on people?” Clark asked, half irritation, half relief as he willed his heart to slow down. He was Kryptonian, but the Bat of Gotham was another beast entirely. Clark was giving serious thought to Hal’s claim that the Bat was a spook.
Surely a man like this couldn’t be human.
Batman’s expression shifted imperceptibly under the cowl and Clark could practically hear the terse ‘well maybe if you were aware of your surroundings’. Batman didn’t voice it aloud, he never voiced it aloud, but the weight of his disdain was apparent.
Clark blew out a sharp breath, “So, what are you here for?” He tried to remember if there was any activity near Gotham lately���nothing would step on Batman’s toes quite as much as breaking his one rule—
“Kon-El.”
Clark tensed all the way up. He couldn’t help it, it had been over two years since he’d found Kon, but he was still overprotective of the kid. With a megalomaniac for a father and the end of a species for his legacy, Kon had a weighty burden to shoulder, and Clark would absolutely protect him from it as much as possible.
“What about Kon?” Clark asked levelly.
“He propositioned Tim.” The words nearly came out in a hiss and Clark blinked. Kon had told him of his plan to ask Tim out, Clark’s discreet inquiries seemed to conclude that the boy fancied Kon back, Clark couldn’t see what the problem was. Tim was seventeen, six months senior to Kon, and he had dated previously.
Which meant that either this was a gay thing or a meta thing.
“So?” Clark leaned back, narrowing his eyes as he kept his voice deliberately casual. “What about it? I think they’d make a cute couple.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No,” Batman hissed, vehement. Clark narrowed his eyes further. “It will not happen. I forbid it. You will tell Kon-El to stay away from my son.”
“They work on the same team,” Clark pointed out, starting to get angry.
“Tim will be leaving the Titans.”
“Because Kon asked him out?” Clark asked, incredulous. The sheer overreaction was ridiculous.
“Yes.”
“Does Tim want to leave?” Clark asked. He didn’t know the details of how Kon was planning to ask Tim out, but it was possible that he’d accidentally offended him. “Maybe I should talk to him—”
“No!”
Clark stared. Batman didn’t shout. Batman never shouted. Batman certainly didn’t ball his hands into fists like he was contemplating punching Clark. Whatever this was about, it was causing the man to lose his infamous composure.
“You will not talk to Tim. Your son,” Batman twisted the word and Clark came perilously close to seeing red—“will not talk to Tim. This will never happen again. Is that understood?”
Clark took five deep breaths to be able to speak without shouting. “No,” he said as calmly as he could. “I don’t understand. I don’t know why you’re so upset about this. If there’s a problem, and if the kids can’t solve it on their own, then it becomes my business—”
“There is no problem,” Batman ground out through gritted teeth.
“That’s not what it sounds like to me,” Clark said sharply. “I don’t know if this is homophobia or xenophobia, but our kids are doing a better job of getting along than we are, and that’s something to be encouraged.”
Batman was silent for so long that Clark actually got out of his chair to make sure the guy was still there. “Getting along,” the vigilante said finally, words slow and faintly bitter.
“What?”
“This is about getting along,” Batman said. Clark didn’t know whether it was a question.
“I guess?” he answered. Kon wouldn’t have asked Tim out unless they’d gotten to know each other, breaking the long-held isolation of the Bats.
Batman’s jaw tightened. “Okay,” he said.
“Okay?” Clark was very confused.
“Okay,” Batman repeated. “We can…get along.” Clark stared blankly at him. “Now tell your son to stop.”
Clark immediately protested, but was sidetracked as Batman pulled off his cowl. Batman never unmasked even though they all knew who he was, and Clark’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Bruce Wayne’s glittering gray eyes glaring at him.
“Wait,” Clark said, shaking his head, “I’m not telling Kon to stop. Why are you—”
“Then what do you want,” Bruce snapped.
“For what?” Clark was keenly aware that he’d lost the thread of this conversation somewhere and he didn’t know where.
“To call your son off!” Bruce said, face narrowed into a glower, but Clark caught the edge of a crack in his tone. “Do you want me to get on my knees? Suck you off? Fuck you? You—”
“What,” Clark’s voice was the one that cracked this time, embarrassingly high as he swiftly backed away. “What the fuck. What are you talking about?!”
“You said,” Bruce said, and Clark abruptly realized that the terseness to his tone was because he pausing to swallow more often. “You wanted us to get along.”
“Not like that.”
“Kon-El propositioned my son.”
“Kon asked Tim on a date,” Clark said, voice still too high with dawning horror, “because he likes Tim. Because that’s what kids do when they like one of their friends!”
“Typically,” Bruce said quietly, and Clark could see the fractures in his eyes, “they don’t also have the power to immobilize said friend.”
Clark stared at him, frozen in shock and horror. He’d been wrong, then, it wasn’t the idea of his son dating a meta that Bruce didn’t like, except it kind of was, it was the idea of his son dating someone with the ability to overpower him.
“Why would you think,” Clark whispered, “that Kon would ever do that?” Kon was a good kid, a hero, he loved helping people, if Bruce dared to breathe one word about Lex, Clark would eviscerate him—
But no. Bruce didn’t say Lex’s name. He didn’t say anything at all, just stared at Clark with a blank expression. He looked…tense. Anxious. There were dark circles under his eyes and the lines on his face skewed to exhaustion. He hadn’t relaxed his fists.
Clark walked back over to him, slow and even, posture unthreatening. When Clark was two steps away, Bruce shifted ever-so-slightly, a flinch, a brace for a punch there could be no bracing against.
Clark stopped. He turned and sat back down in his chair.
“Batman,” he said slowly, heart heavy and aching, “I’m not going to hurt you or your son. Neither is Kon. This wasn’t a—a threat, or whatever you thought it was.” Because Bruce had clearly thought it was a threat, if he came here to bargain Clark into taking him instead. “Tim does not have to agree to Kon’s date. If he says no, Kon will leave him alone. If he wishes to leave the Titans, he can.”
I am not the monster you so clearly think I am, he wanted to scream.
“If that’s all you came here for,” he said, turning back to the reports, “You can leave.” Clark didn’t know if he could stop himself from venting his feelings if Batman stayed.
#my snippets#bruclark#timkon#bruce is terrified of clark#and unfortunately very good at hiding it#protective bruce
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I would love to do a request if you would like! Some sort of Spencer Reid x Reader where the reader is super bad ass, tough, doesn’t show much emotion is kind of cold to others but has the biggest soft spot for Spencer!! 🫶🏻
thanks for your request lovey, I would love to write more of this pairing if you have any more requests ♡ fem!reader
"Here comes the ice queen," Morgan mutters, turning his chair away from the walkway.
You walk down the steps from Hotch's office. Whether you were praised or reprimanded is anybody's guess —your face never gives anything away. Spencer doesn't necessarily agree with the way Morgan's categorised you, but he isn't wrong either. You're like Hotch in temperament, if Hotch were soft on only Spencer.
That might have something to do with why Spencer won't call you cold. You're never cold with him.
"What did boss man want?" Morgan asks.
"If it were your business, Morgan, I'm sure you'd already know." You don't say it spitefully, but it's far from a warm answer.
Spencer honestly asks just to piss Morgan off, "Everything okay?"
You visibly soften. Walking past Morgan without notice, you pause by Spencer's desk, your voice quieter, gentler. "Don't worry, Spence, everything's fine. You still reading that book about sex crimes in Arizona?"
"I finished it. Doesn't take long."
"No, you're fast," you agree. "What are you gonna read next?"
It's amazing how swiftly you shift gears. Your body language totally changes, your shoulders slouching toward him, your hand open and resting on the back of his chair as if you might touch his hair. Morgan shoots Reid a look that says, What is happening right now?
"I was thinking about reading up on the Milk Killer, from 1954. He tried to give his victims blood transfusions high in lactose in an attempt to cure intolerance."
Even Spencer admits that that sounds boring, but your face lights up with genuine interest. "That could be good. You'll have to tell me how it goes."
"Sure." Spencer squints at you. "You have something on your face."
"Yeah?" you ask, and Morgan goes wild behind you, dipping back in his chair in disbelief at your breathless tone. "What is it? Can you get it for me?"
You bend a little and Spencer wipes the lint from your face sweetly. He wonders if he should be blushing, your affection for him as clear as it is, but for once, Spencer Reid feels smug. He can melt someone that Morgan can't. "All gone," he says. Smugness aside, you're a friend (and maybe a little more than that).
"Thanks, Spence," you say, popping a kiss against his cheek. "You saved me from embarrassing myself."
Morgan clears his throat. You barely move, your hands twisting behind your back. "Hey, lovergirl," he says, making himself heard.
"What, Morgan?" you ask, finally looking away from Spencer's pinking cheeks.
"You have something," he says, pointing at the corner of his mouth.
"So?" you ask indifferently. You turn back to Spencer as though nothing occurred. "Do you want to go to the movies again this weekend? They're playing a silent film. I think you'll like it."
Spencer smiles genuinely. It's not his main concern, but it's definitely an added bonus to hear Morgan's sighed, "Are you kidding?" as he nods vehemently.
"I'd love to," Spencer says.
"Okay. It's a date," you say, smiling at him so nicely it feels like he can't breathe.
"What's a date?" Emily asks as she returns from the kitchenette, eyebrows jumping.
"It's a marker used to denote the day or month within a year," you say primly. "I have to go make copies for Hotch."
You don't say goodbye. Morgan likes you, really, in the same way you like Morgan, so he gives Spencer a dazed look followed by a small smile. "Good luck with that."
Spencer looks over his shoulder to follow your figure as you carry a box of reports to the photocopier. "I don't think I need luck," he murmurs. You glare at the copier, clicking one of its buttons aggressively. "She's nicer than you guys think."
"Sure."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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no more mister shy guy.
OP x fem!reader
in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you
i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3
songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff
2.8k words
you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.
oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.
he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.
oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.
it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.
but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.
“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.
“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.
oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.
you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.
“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.
“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.
panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.
“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”
“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”
“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.
you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.
your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.
“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.
“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”
oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.
he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.
“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”
the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.
“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.
“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.
painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.
he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.
“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.
you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.
you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.
you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.
his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.
“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.
he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.
“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.
“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.
“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.
oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.
“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.
“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.
“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.
his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.
“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.
oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.
“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.
“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.
“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.
“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.
oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.
“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.
“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.
“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.
the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.
“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.
“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.
he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.
thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.
“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.
you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.
“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.
“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.
“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.
“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.
“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.
“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”
“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.
“there he is.” you sigh happily.
when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.
-
whoops? lol
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taglist
@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789
(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri oneshot#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri angst#oscar piastri fics#f1 smut#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 fics#f1 imagine#f1 oneshot#formula 1 smut#formula 1 fics#formula 1 fic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#f1 driver x you#f1 driver x reader#smut#fluff
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𝘚𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵
*+:｡.｡ Miguel x afab Reader
Summary - Miguel finally had time to visit your universe , little did you know Dr. Strange would stir up some jealousy inside Miguel.
Warnings - 18+, unprotected, language, semi-public sex?, ass smacking, cream pie, jealous Miguel, pet names [doll, sweetheart, honey, good girl], mirror sex. Strange flirts with you in front of Miguel…, possessive Miguel, pussy eating, edging, teasing
Continuation of this series! (Pt.4) → Consequences
Miguel finally worked things out so he could visit your universe, Jessica happily volunteered to take care of everything while he was gone. She was thrilled to finally see Miguel happy, blabbering about you, he wouldn’t shut up about how excited he was to see your life.
You were anxious about him seeing your universe, the both of you have been together for around 7 months. Although you were supposed to take Miguel with you when you first went back, an incursion began to form in another universe but as always, Miguel fixed it.
But now that everything is settled and Miguel finally asked if he could go and see where you grew up you happily obliged. The only thing he was silently dreading was being introduced to Dr. Strange.
You suspected from the first time you met Miguel that he idolized Dr. Strange due to his fascination but it turns out it’s quite the opposite. Miguel knew about the mess other Stranges have caused, yet Dr. Strange was talked about like a cryptid or folktale.
The other spiders claim to have met Dr. Strange yet Miguel doesn’t seem to believe them since he’s never personally met him.
“Ready?” You smiled as you walked up to Miguel. He was tense, he’s done this thousands of times, traveling through the universe was like breathing to him but he felt like his heart was about to explode.
“A little nervous” he chuckled. “Nothing to be nervous about, let’s go”
Once the both of you arrived, Miguel wasn’t as tense. Your universe wasn’t very different from his which he liked. “I have to go check up on my sister, please don’t bring up any of the spider stuff up… she doesn’t know” you awkwardly smiled.
“Of course, my mouth is sealed” he winked as he wrapped his arm around you “Lead the way”
You made it to your sister’s apartment, you could hear her music blasting from inside. Your sister was the wild child, being only 3 years younger than you she got up to much more mischief even with you being a human spider.
You knocked on the door, once, twice, and still no answer. Finally, you knocked loud enough causing the door to fly open “YOU ARE HERE!” She yelled, jumping into your arms and pulling you inside.
“You must be Miguel? My dear sister won’t stop talking about you when she’s here. Always Miguel’s this, Miguel, that it’s annoying” Your sister smiled as she hugged Miguel.
“I’m flattered” Miguel Chuckles as he returns the hug. “Also I forgot to tell you that wizard guy came looking for you, he said to call him whenever you could” your sister nodded.
Your eyes grew wide. Why the hell was Strange needing you? You automatically think it’s something horrible, he usually never contacts your family if he was looking for you.
“Strange came over? Did he say anything?” You questioned “Nah he just said you work for him at his museum thing and he needed help finding a book” she shrugged.
Shit. It must’ve been that damn book of Vishanti he’s been bothering you about. He had you fetch it for him as a ‘sorry I went to another universe and fell in love with another spider’ apology gift.
Strange was pissed when he found out what had happened but surprisingly said it was meant to happen anyways which was something you’ve never heard strange say.
“Hey, sis? Would you mind if I go see what Strange wants? I promise I’ll be back, I’ll even bring you some ice cream” You smiled with a dramatic grin and your eyelashes fluttered as you looked at her.
“Ew don’t do that and yes you can” she shooed you away as she walked back into her kitchen. “Nice to meet you, Miguel!” She waved as something popped into her oven.
“Fuck! My cupcakes” she whined as you closed the door behind you.
“So what do you think strange wants with you?” Miguel asked as soon as you both were out of the apartment “I’m not sure honestly, the only thing I can think of is the book of Vishanti but I’m not 100% sure why” you sighed.
“You’ll finally get to meet him though! He’s um…. Let’s just say passive-aggressive as a heads up” You rubbed your arm as you looked over at Miguel. You couldn’t imagine the disaster that would happen if both of them got into a fight.
Both stubbornness and believing they are always right is something they have in common. “We’ll see how we get along” is all Miguel mutters.
You made it to the sanctum, the giant building standing tall as you look back at Miguel “Ready?” You smiled “Yup”
You walked into the giant building, it was completely silent as both you and Miguel’s footsteps echoed through the building. “Strange what the hell do you want!” You yell as you look around.
“Hey sweetheart” you hear Stranges voice boom from the left. You rolled your eyes as he walked into view with a confident stride. Strange's pet name wasn’t new to you, you don’t believe he says it in a flirtatious way, more of an enduring way. “so this is that Spider-Man right? Are you as annoying as the other spiders coming in and out of there?” Strange teased.
You can see Miguel’s jaw clench tight as Strange walks down “Can you be nice you shit, yes he’s my boyfriend” You scoff as you move towards Miguel.
Miguel didn’t say a word as he stood there, arms crossed and jaw clenched. “Anyways what do you want Strange” you hiss while pointing a finger at him “Just wondered where you were is all, it’s boring around here with no spiders especially when my favorite one disappears for a while, how couldn’t I miss her?” He teased.
“If you went and bothered my sister just because you missed me I can get 5 other spiders here right now if you want, you’ll surely be occupied” You shrugged.
You could hear it in a stranges voice that he was purposely trying to make Miguel mad. “No, but when will I have you back here?”
“You act like you don’t call me whenever you need help, I was rarely ever here. I don’t know if you're acting this way because Miguel’s here but don’t you ever flirt with me.” You hiss.
“Gosh, I’m joking! Wanted to see if this spider had the temper everyone was talking about” Strange laughed out in amusement.
Miguel was silent, you know he was fuming inside by how red his eyes were. “Let’s go” you seethe as you drag Miguel out by the arm.
He doesn’t move. He stands in the same spot, staring at Strange with narrow eyes “Do you have a bathroom?” Miguel blurted out. “Uh yeah it’s to the rig-“
“She can show me” Miguel Blanty replies as he drags you by the arm “Miguel let’s go you can go at my sister's” you whispered.
“Where’s it at?” he asked as held onto you close. “I- this way” You gave a confused look as you pointed him to the restroom.
Before you could turn he pulled you into the bathroom with him. “God he pisses me off” Miguel groaned as he buried himself in your neck. A shaky moan spilled out of your mouth as his actions took you by surprise.
“What’s up with you?” You chuckled as he lifted you onto the sink. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders instinctively as he began to rock into you.
“I don’t appreciate him disrespecting both of us like that” he sighed, his arms running up your thighs as you kissed down his jaw. You had a clue of where this was going and you loved it.
“Think I should fuck you loud enough for him to hear huh? Let him hear how pretty you sound when you're begging me to cum in you? I think I should” he purrs.
You whine at his words, your hips bucking to his as his hand snake onto your throat “yea…” you pant out, already out of breath from how fast your heart was beating.
Miguel knew the power he had over you, he could have you melting in his touch within seconds. You hummed in pleasure as his fingers unbuttoned your jeans “You want it doll? Say it, tell me what you want” Miguel coos.
“Yes” is all you could get out as he tugged your jeans down, tossing them onto the ground “Yes what sweetheart?”
You could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment. Where you really going to fuck Miguel in the sanctum? It wasn’t professional on your part but you couldn’t help but feel turned on as Miguel whispered dirty praises in your ear.
“Fuck me” it came out desperate and pathetic, Miguel loved it more than you can imagine. He chuckled at your response, obeying instantly as he pulled your panties off.
You were struggling to get his pants off, the need making you jitter while you unbuckled his belt. He leaned in for a kiss, Moaning into your mouth as he tossed your hands to the side and removed his belt and pants in seconds.
“How can I resist something this gorgeous huh? Look at you” he mocked as he held your face up to his and chuckled at how red your cheeks were. He ran two fingers down your folds, groaning at the wet sound of your cunt when he plunged his fingers inside you.
You let out a shaky moan as he shoved two fingers into you, pulling them out with a smirk as he licked them clean “Taste so good” he purred before kneeling to your pussy.
“Miguel please need you inside me” you pleaded “Shh doll you’ll get what you want, patience” his arms wrapped around your plump thighs, tossing them onto his shoulders as he lifted you to his face.
You leaned onto your elbows, staring at Miguel as he stared at your pussy in awe. He licks his lips hungrily before burying his face into your cunt. You let out a loud cry as he licked and sucked on your clit, fingers tangling into his hair as he moaned into you.
Your head fell back onto the mirror, back arched off the counter as Miguel lapped at your soaked pussy “Why’re you covering your mouth huh? Let him hear you” Miguel seethed as he looked up at you.
He ripped your hand away from your mouth, using one hand to keep your hands pinned onto your stomach and the other to keep you from squirming.
You never got tired of the way he held you down so easily, you didn’t know it was possible for someone to keep you still with only 2 hands but Miguel made sure you knew he could.
Your moans grow heavy and loud as you feel your stomach fluttering, the back of your heels digging into his back as your thighs squeezed around his head.
He moaned at the feeling of your thighs locking him in and before he knew it your orgasm washed over you. That little add of vibration of his moan tipped you over the edge causing you to let go.
“That’s right baby, let him know” he mumbled as he pulled away from your thighs. His mouth and chin were covered in your slick, his lips connected to yours as he pulled you onto him.
You pulled at his boxers, dragging them down to his knees causing his cock to spring out onto your stomach. You clenched around nothing as you noticed how big he was on your stomach.
You had no idea how he always managed to fit inside you, even when you felt like he was splitting you in half. Your hand wrapped around his cock, aligning his thick tip onto your hole.
He pushes in softly, hands on your waist as you buried into his chest. Loud groans came from both of you as you wrapped around his cock perfectly, your nails digging into his shoulders as he picked up his pace.
“Migu- mi-“ you stuttered as he looked at you in admiration, his eyes watching the string of spit from your sloppy kiss drip down your chin as he fucks you brainless.
“Yeah doll?”
You didn’t know why you were saying his name, you had nothing to say. You just bounced along with his hard thrusts as he stuffed you full. He switched positions quickly, turning you around and lifting your ass in the air.
“Want you to look at yourself, look at how pretty you fucking look” he hummed. You were met with your own fucked out reflection, cheeks burning red and saliva all over your mouth as you stared at yourself in the mirror.
He didn’t waste any time pushing into you, his fingers digging into your hips as he watches your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes connect to his, a smile formed on his lips as your mouth hung open at his new angle.
Your eyes rolled back, your hands holding onto the counter as he fucked you hard onto the marble sink. “Oh m- my” you moaned out “who makes you feel this good huh? Say it, who?” He cooed, his hand palming your ass before his heavy hand slapped onto you.
You moaned at his smack, your body jerking as the new feeling made you clench. “Miguel” you panted as he picked up his pace “Not loud enough honey” he seethed, earning another harsh slap on your ass.
“Miguel, you Miguel please please I- I’m so cl- fuc” you whine out as his hand snakes onto your clit, his fingers impressively playing your body like he’s done it all his life.
“Huh?“ he grunted “I can’t hear you doll” he clicked his tongue after his words, his pace slowing as he looked as if he was going to pull back “NO! No Miguel please I- Im so close don’t stop pleas-“ you cry out. You were so lost in the pleasure you didn’t realize why you were even fucking in the bathroom.
You forgot about the whole strange situation, your pleads and begs echoing in the bathroom as you thrust onto his hips for friction.
You hated being edged, he knew that but he loved seeing you like this. Fucking yourself onto him when he decides to tease. His eyes burned into you through the mirror, your teary eyes looking up at him as he rubs your ass.
“Good girl”
He thrusts into you once again, this time his fingers playing with your clit with precision. His name spilled out of your lips, your hand wrapping around his wrist as you felt yourself reaching your 2nd orgasm.
His free hand pinned your hands onto your back, giving him a better grip for him to slam into you even harder. The pornographic sounds of slapping skin and moans fill the room as you stare at yourself in the mirror.
Your eyes fluttered as you felt yourself shake, tears streamed down your face as the orgasm hit you hard. Miguel’s eyes watching your tears stream down as you moaned his name was something he could never get tired of.
“That’s it doll, let it out. Let it alll out” he hummed. His eyes glued onto your pussy, the wet sticky slick sticking and stringing onto his lap with each thrust. The white ring forming around his cock made his eyes roll back, he felt himself twitch. “Shit b- ba- doll fuck”
His body slouched forward as he thrusts harshly, his fingers holding your hips as he took in your tight walls. His heavy pants and groans sounded like music to your ears, you lazily looked up at him and his messy strands of hair stuck to his face.
He dropped onto your back, kissing your shoulders as he filled you full of his seed. He stayed inside for a few seconds, waiting to come back to earth before pulling out of you. He watched as he spills out of you, the white warm liquid dripping down your thigh making you shiver as you heavily panted.
Your hair was a mess, eyes puffy and red, and cheeks burning. Miguel looked just as fucked out as you did, his lips puffy from the amount of biting he did, hair sticking to his forehead, and cheeks blushed.
“Don’t you look pretty?” He coos as he leans forward to grip your face, teasingly moving it side to side as your droopy eyes stare at him through the mirror. You chuckle at his actions, slumping completely onto the counter as you eased your heart rate.
“You okay?” He smiled at you as he lifted you back up “mhm” you nodded as he pulled you into a kiss.
Miguel grabbed some paper towels, turned on the sink, and cleaned you up. He cleaned himself up soon after, collecting his leftover seed and shoving it inside you with his fingers before putting on your panties “Make sure we don’t miss any” he cooed.
You stood up straight as he buttoned your jeans back up, you held yourself onto the counter as you watched him buckle his belt. “I need to fuck you in front of mirrors more”
You stood anxiously as the actions you both did sink in. You just fucked your boyfriend. In your boss's bathroom. Well, could you call him your boss? You didn’t know but you considered him one.
“Hope he heard all of it” Miguel chuckle as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder before pushing the door open. As soon as you walked into the hallway your eyes darted around, waiting for strange to appear and say something.
Both of you walked to the stairs, seeing Strange walking over awkwardly as Miguel smiled at him “We found the bathroom, thanks. Nice meeting you” Miguel cockily smiled as the both of you walked down the stairs.
“He knows you’re mine now”
Tag-list: @tati-the-fangirl @mxtokko @taleiak @zelzablues
#marvel smut#smut#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara imagines#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o hara x reader#spiderman#spiderman across the spiderverse#miguel o hara#miguel x reader#spider man smut
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This has to be the funniest agreement I’ve had with my dad about laws.
Well, you know how Metallica makes the BIGGEST Deal out of anybody using their music without paying royalties, including some kid on youtube and such? Like so bad to the point where THEIR OWN Twitch stream got muted?
I told my dad about that Twitch stream and how much of their panties were in a wad about anybody even Touching their music.
He laughed and told me the first thing he ever downloaded from Limewire was Metallica albums.
And honestly. Respect to that.
Bc right after that i got a story about the time in the 90s where Metallica was being a little bitch about a handful .50 cent music downloads being pirated from Limewire. There was this whole thing. I think they tried to sue Limewire to no avail. They’ve been doing this for literal decades.
#taks speaks#tbf my dad also once snuck into one of their concerts without paying#and a chevelle one#its interesting hearing the stories from his 20s tbh#half of them are pure chaos tho and i think i know now where i got that from#the oddest comes from his stoner friends of back then. all but one are dead. so thats the level of chaos here#there was one where he had this older guy (weird uncle of a friend idk) and they had a girl with them#and the uncle dude was like 'if i can shoot sparks off my dick would you give me a blowjob?'#and my dad and his friends were yelling at the girl to NOT SAY YES bc he can and would do that#she's just there laughing it off and is like 'fuck it why not not like he'd do that'#and the guy pops the hood of his truck. grabs the jumper cables and drops his pants#this fucker LITERALLY made sparks jump off his dick by using a car battery#after that she left with my dad and his friends and like over a year later ends up around the uncle guy again#hes drunk as shit and sees her from across the yard and is like 'hey. don't you owe me a blowjob?'#she never came around that group again after that#fair reason not to also that sounds like a damn experience#just one story there. there's so many others#if you ever wondered what kind of trouble people in the 80s and 90s got into bc there was nothing to do that's one of them#(i got these two stories within an hour so thats how the brain is connecting them)#(it was adhd + adhd storytime sort of deal who knows where tf it goes)
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Is it over now - LN4
lando norris x fem!reader
summary: your situationship with lando ended 10 months ago… or did it? based on taylor swift’s "is it over now"
warnings: toxic behavior, cheating, smut, p in v, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise (with slight degradation)
a/n: you have no idea how long it took me to finish this and idk the word count but its long and filthy. Also this gif does things to me… just the way he looked that day🤌🏻 the curls the beard the cheekbones
masterlist | taglist
You knew he was gone. He left exactly 113 minutes ago. His flight had taken off 44 minutes ago. Angrily you turned around in your bed, kicking off the blanket and staring at the blank spot next to you where only three hours ago, Lando’s curly head had laid.
Since then you slept with each other. Again. And had a terrible screaming match. Again.
You knew it was for the better to let him go, you were toxic, your relationship, if you can call it that, had been from the very start two years ago when you drunkenly slept with each other after a celebration party.
Since then it’s been one hell of a ride. Neither of you were very good at the whole relationship and communication thing, so naturally your relationship was based on an endless circle of being somehow happy, until one of you screwed up, you fought, left and ended up in each others bed minimum three days later.
Some might say this behavior exhausts but for the two of you it was what made things exciting and addicting.
His touch, his lips, his body, HE was addictive.
But since the last time you broke up, things had changed. Lando had gotten a new girlfriend, something that made you mad as hell.
He knocked on your door last night, storming in and pinning you to the wall before violently attacking your lips with his.
But that wasn’t what made you mad, this was a rather regular occurrence any time one of you got a new partner. What made you mad was that when he woke up the next morning he didn’t stay like he usually would. He jumped out of bed, calling the previous night a 'mistake' and something that 'shouldn’t have happened'. On top of that he blamed you.
Naturally that resulted in your neighbors, once again, hearing a thirty minute screaming match which ended in you kicking Lando out of your door with the words "Don‘t ever call me or knock on my door again, especially not when you realize she can’t give you what you want!!" "I promise I won’t!!" "Oh you are a lying traitor!!".
You hated that even though he was gone for good now, he still wouldn’t leave your mind.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Fast forward to almost 10 months later. Mason, your very nice colleague picked you up from your office. You met on one of your threehundreds of awkward blind dates your friend had arranged, finding out that you actually worked for the same company. However that didn’t make the date any less awkward, because you mostly talked about work. But at least you kind of found a good friend now. You haven’t spoken to Lando since that night. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t think he actually wouldn’t come back.
"Hey, ready for that coffee?", he smiled.
You grabbed your bag and joined Mason. Together you walked to the cafe you‘ve been going to ever since the first time. You noticed he was a bit nervous for some reason, but you didn’t dare ask why, deep down you didn’t care but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself of anyone.
"Two latte‘s to go, please", Mason placed your order. While you waited you pulled out your phone to check some new messages from your friends.
"Lando Norris spotted with yet another model", Mason read the most recent headline when he opened twitter. "Can you believe that guy, huh?", he huffed.
"I bet she’s got blue eyes", you huffed and shook your head when Mason showed you a picture of the blonde girl with blue eyes who basically looked like your clone. "Predictable." "What?", Mason asked confused. "Oh nothing, I happen to know all his girls literally look the same", you fake smiled but thankfully Mason didn’t notice. For some reason he didn’t know about Lando and you when you met and you were rather happy about keeping it that way.
Sure Lando and you never paraded each other around on Instagram, you never actually were together long enough to feel comfortable with announcing your situationship, but you have been spotted together multiple times in the paddock or at parties.
Mason didn’t need to know about the boy who still kept you up some nights.
Your coffees were placed in front of you, making you look up and hesitate for a second. "Here you go", the waiter smiled and for a few seconds you saw Lando in front of you.
The dark brown curls, the green eyes and lord that smile, it reminded you of him.
"Thanks", Mason replied on your part and grabbed the coffees. "You good?", he asked. You simply nodded, still a little in your thoughts.
"Okay good because I’ve been wanting to ask you something", he said, glancing to you. "Hmm?"
"We‘ve been going on these take out coffee dates for almost 10 months now, and I remember how beautiful our first one was, the blind date. So I’ve been wondering, would you like to be my girlfriend?", Mason asked, glancing down at you to catch your reaction.
You looked at him with a blank face and simply nodded. "Uh-hmm", you muttered, your mind still some place elsewhere, more specifically at one of yours and Lando‘s good nights, with his head between your thighs.
"That’s great!", Mason called happily and brought you into a hug.
"Uh-hmm."
"I think we should go out tonight and celebrate this!", Mason spoke excitedly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Mason told you to invite a few friends as he did the same so you decided to ask your two best friends to come. And same as you, they were never one to turn down an invitation to a night out.
"So, you’ve been acting a little weird ever since we’ve been here", Mia pointed out, taking a sip from her drink. "Mason asked me to be his girlfriend", you dryly replied, making Mia almost spit out her drink again and Laura shockingly turn her head towards you.
"What?!!", they called in unison. You nodded, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, did you say yes?", Laura pressed, both hers and Mia’s eyes staring you down intensely.
"Uh-hmm", you gave the same answer as to Mason a few hours prior. "That’s- uh great", Mia stuttered over her words for a bit. Her and Laura look each other before Mia looked away.
"Fine, if you won’t say it I will. Finally!!! I’m so damn happy you finally completely moved on from Lando and found someone who treats you better than that piece of junk", Laura started rambling and just in that moment your eyes locked with the devil Laura has been talking and you’ve been thinking about.
No fucking hell. That couldn’t be true.
How can it happen that after 10 months of not running into Lando once while clubbing, toady was the day where it happened?
"We both weren’t great in that relationship", you muttered, slightly defending Lando without even meaning to, your eyes still locked with his.
An arm wrapping around your waist pulled you out of the staring contest. "Hey babe", Mason whispered in your ear and placed a sweet kiss to your temple. You internally cringed at the nickname and the rotting sweet gesture.
Laura’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you, while Mia caught your annoyed looking gaze. She was always the one who understood you and Lando the most out of all of your friends. Maybe because she was such a sweet and genuine human that she believed both of you could change for each other or probably she simply understood how attached you grew to each other that no matter what, that bond wouldn’t break.
And judging from the fact how Lando and you captivated each other just moments ago, that bond also didn’t break in the last 10 months apart.
"We’ll go take a smoke, you wanna come?", Laura asked but you shook your head. Ever since the whole thing with Lando started you never touched a cigarette again. He didn’t like it, it was unhealthy and being with someone who doesn’t smoke made you smoke less as well, until you stopped completely.
"You should really enjoy life a little again", Laura replied, knowing your reasons to quit smoking.
"Maybe I’ve just come to the realization that I don’t need to poison my lungs to enjoy life", you simply answered, rolled your eyes and turned away.
"Can you get me something to drink?", you asked Mason who was still gently rubbing your waist, actually only wanting to bring some distance between the two of you. "Uh yeah sure, what do you want?", he asked. "Just bring me anything", you replied, stepping out of his embrace as a sign for him to get going.
He nodded and turned around but not before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You cringed internally.
"Y/n?", his voice suddenly spoke behind you, making your whole body freeze. Lando’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you in, something he did quite often when you were 'together'. "What are you doing here?", he whispered and you immediately felt your legs weakening. You had no idea why your body immediately reacted to him and you hated yourself for it.
Lando only smirked when he noticed you wobbling a little and gripped your waist tighter. "Missed me?", he muttered, placing a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder, making your eyes flutter and your body lean back into his.
"300 days later and you still react to my touch like that", he smirked.
"He really can’t give it to you properly, I can see that from the way he was holding you", Lando snorted, making fun of Mason and you didn’t feel the slightest need to defend your boyfriend because you knew Lando was right.
"You shouldn’t", you warned Lando before hearing someone clear their throat behind you.
Lando dropped his hand from your waist and his gaze darkened when he saw Mason standing behind you
Said boy pulled you into a possessive hug.
"Hey, babe", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple before handing you your drink.
You sniffed before realizing it was Vodka Coke. A smirk made its way on Lando’s face when he saw your drink and your reaction. You knew he knew that you hated Coke.
"And you are?", Mason let his eyes wander to the curly headed boy in front of you. "Lando", he muttered, ignoring Mason who held out a hand for him to shake. "Okayyy", Mason whispered. "You wanna dance?", he then turned to you. You simply nodded and accepted his hand that led you into the crowd of people.
Mason pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Isn’t that the guy with all of those girls?", he asked, leaning closer to your ear so you’d understand his words over to loud music.
"Lando Norris, yes", you nodded, interwinding your fingers behind Mason’s head. "Do you know each other?"
Flashbacks of Lando and you floated your mind. Driving along the French Riviera in his McLaren, the occasional stop to get in a quickie, or the sneaking away from his engineers to meet in his drivers room. And finally, him peacefully sleeping next to you on that one damned night, his curls a mess on his head, his torso bare with a few red marks on his back from your activities before and his beautiful eyes shut.
"No", you simply replied before placing your lips on Mason’s to get him to stop asking questions.
Mason more than happily gave in, letting his hand wander down to your ass, gently rubbing it. You kissed him harder, wanting him to be a little bit rougher as well, to firmly grab you and not just delicately touch you.
But instead he backed off.
"Woah, what’s gotten into you today? This is totally not like you!", he stated with a confused smile, which made you even angrier. Of course this was like you, he just didn’t know you well enough.
"I’ll be in the restroom for a second", you rolled your eyes before leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.
You pushed open the heavy door to the women’s restroom, being thankful that no one was there before putting your hands on the marble counter and leaving your head hanging.
Until the locking of the main door made your head shoot up. And to be perfectly honest, you half expect him to follow you in here.
"What happened to your newest toy?", Lando smirked, leaning against the now closed door. You rolled your eyes and didn’t reply.
Lando pushed himself off the door and walked closer to you until he stood directly behind you, looking at you through the mirror. "Don’t roll your eyes at me, baby", he warned.
"Now tell me what happened to that guy? Realized he couldn’t give you want you want?", Lando smirked, quoting your words from the night you last saw each other. You shook your head, not wanting to give into him.
"Come on baby, I saw your face. You didn’t like the gentle touches in the middle of a club dance floor, admit it!", he dared you.
"'Newest toy', what do you think of me? That I slept around with everyone that was in a 1 mile radius of me?", you ignored his words and stared at him through the mirror.
"Did you think I didn’t see you? There were flashing lights", you huffed. "Maybe I wanted you to see me and please baby, don’t play all innocent", he whispered, still standing behind you but coming dangerously close now.
"At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight unlike you!!", you called.
"Oh baby, don’t you think I‘ve heard the rumors? About your hips…", Lando stepped forward and let his hands trailed over your hips, "and thighs…", he let them wander further down to your thighs, gently rubbing the exposed skin. You let out a sigh at the familiar feeling and closed your eyes in pleasure, "and those whispered sighs", he smirked and quickly turned you around before lifting you up on the bathroom counter.
"Exactly rumors", you breathed, before he smashed his lips on yours.
Lando’s hands immediately grabbed your legs, opening them so he could stand between them. Then they went to your waist to pull you in closer.
Lando groaned at the feeling of you finally back in his arms.
His hands kept scanning over your body, squeezing your boobs which made you throw your head back and let out a deep moan.
"Been waiting to get my hands on you again for so long, baby," he breathed heavily, speaking into your skin as his fingers fumbled open the top of your blouse. His lips trailed over your exposed chest and stopped just under your collarbone, sucking the fragile skin between his lips.
"You’re saying you missed me?", you teased, trying hard to push the words out before another moan interrupted you. Lando grinned and ripped open the buttons of the white silk blouse, allowing your tits to spill out.
Lando swore he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes.
His lips attacked yours again while his large hand worked your bra covered boobs.
Your eyes fluttered, feeling that all too familiar ache in your core while the large size of his palm against you, made you think of those thick, veiny fingers between your thighs.
Your hips pressed against his, feeling his hard cock against you, making you smirk.
Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself against him, faster, harder. His one hand tightening around your waist and his head falling forward on your shoulder.
"Admit it, darling", you whispered into his ear. You could tell me was holding back a moan, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to break that thread.
You wanted to make him snap, an evil smirk brightening on your face as you moved your hips faster.
While he closed his eyes, you took the opportunity to fiddle with the metal belt around his hips, opening it along with the button and zipper of his jeans.
"Can’t wait, can you, you desperate little whore", Lando smirked, watching you push down his jeans and slide your hands inside his boxers to grab his cock.
Lando's head fell back with a groan as you started pumping his hard cock.
"Missed your hands, darling", he groaned, holding on to your waist tighter when you trailed your finger over his swollen tip before pulling your hand back, tracing them down his abdomen.
"Please, Lan", you begged, knowing your whispered words would make him weak. But he’s been playing this game just as long as you were.
His fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt, quickly stroking up to your clothed core. A heavy moan escaped your mouth.
Lando caressed the inside of your thighs while his lips traced down your neck, leaving a few marks here and there.
His finger pushed your laced thong to the side before lightly gracing your pussy, making your hips buckle into his hands. "Lan-", you moaned. An evil smirk spread on his face. "Now who’s desperate?", Lando whispered, repeating the action twice, pulling away way too quickly.
"I hate you", you breathed, throwing your head back before grabbing his wrist and holding it in place.
Lando shook his head but finally gave in and dipped the tip of his finger inside you. Your grip on his wrist tightening. "M-more", you slightly pleaded, trying your best not to sound too desperate but failing miserably.
"I’ve missed watching you react to me like this, still the very same as the first day", he said, pushing a second finger inside you to stretch you out. A high pitched moan left your throat and your hand let go of his wrist to grip the edge of the marble counter.
His lips were still traveling along your half exposed upper body, one hand pulling down your left bra cup, making your boob spill out before he took your nipple between his lips.
"Lando- I-", you moaned loudly, thanking heaven that he locked the door when he came in and gripping the counter tighter, your knuckles almost turning white.
He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the feeling of emptiness, before you felt his hand trying to get your thong off. You lifted your hips a little to help him, watching as he pushed your underwear in the back pocket of his trousers.
"You should see yourself, darling", Lando smirked mockingly, his fingers being welcomed by her glistening pussy as he traced them along your slit.
"So desperate for me", he cooed, watching your eyes close and a frown forming on your forehead as you moaned.
"It’s funny how eager you are for everything I give you, baby", he chuckled humorless. "You won't call for months and now you want my cock inside of you?"
You whimpered at his words, all while he slowly inserted his finger inside you again.
"Lando- oh my- please", you continued whimpering and pleading, making Lando smirk. "What is it, baby? You're gonna have to tell me exactly what you want, you know how this works", he cooed into your ear.
He was teasing and you knew that, you have experienced it multiple times before. You didn’t want to give into him but damn his long thick fingers and how they felt inside you. You mind already playing images of him fucking you till you’re nothing but a whimpering mess.
"C’mon", Lando demanded firmly. "You've always been mouthy with me, even earlier, so why are you being quiet now, huh?"
"Lan- lando please, more", you whined, while moving your hips on his finger to get some sort of relief. "I just need more, please", you begged slightly, your eyes closed and not wanting to look at the winning smirk on Lando’s face.
"But you already have a boyfriend, mylady", Lando reminded you with an evil grin. You shook your head, the mess of your hair whipping around. "N-no", you tried to deny as he added a second finger.
"Just wanna cum, please- fuck!", you muttered as Lando curled his fingers inside you.
Lando, completely ignoring you, continued with his question. "What more could you possibly want?"
"I want your cock- so bad, just fill me up- fuck, Lando- fuck me, please- I-", you begged, your eyes tired but glistening in desperation and lust. "Jus’ wanna- want you to fuck me hard and fill- uhh- I wanna be full with you please, please Lando", at this point you didn’t even care anymore that you sounded like a desperate slut.
You’ve gone 10 months without seeing Lando in person, of course you had your fair share of fucks but you couldn’t pretend that any of them came even close to pleasuring you the way Lando was able to.
"Such a needy girl", he tsked before wiping you tears away, that you didn’t even notice had started falling down your cheeks. You clenched around Lando’s fingers, loving the way his voice sounded in your ear.
"Oh you want to cum?", Lando looked at you with a devious smile. "Do you think you deserve that?" Before you could reply, you felt his lips pressing against yours, his tongue gliding between your lips without being met with a lot of resistance.
He hummed in satisfaction, tasting the alcohol from the drink you previously had on your mouth before he pulled away, only to let his tongue trail from your lips, over your neck and down to your chest as he sucked on your skin, leaving a dark purple mark on your breast. You were too far gone to realize anything until the sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your nipple shocked you out of your daydream.
"I asked you a question, baby", Lando hummed, licking over your hardened nipple. You blinked down at him, seeing a little blurry. "W-what?"
His grin was wickedly evil as he looked up at you. "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated but didn’t give you time to reply before slamming his cock inside you.
You gasped loudly, grabbing the back of his neck for leverage and letting out a strangled cry as Lando continued to fuck into you at high speed.
There was truly no one who could fill you up like he did.
The sound of his hips clashing against yours and both of your strangled moans were the only thing left to hear in the restroom. You felt your pussy clench around Lando’s cock, making him moan into your shoulder. He moved his fingers from rubbing the side of your waist to your clit, touching the already sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing it as you cried out.
"God! Fuckin- hell- ohh!"
"I think God is the last person to help you right now, darling", Lando chuckled but got interrupted by a moan as your walls clenched around him again. You felt yourself nearing your orgasm with every rock of his hips.
"Fuck, baby you’re so tight", he moaned. "You have no idea how much I missed this tight fucking hole, perfectly clenching around my cock like this- ohh", Lando spoke in a light whisper, rubbing eight figures on your clit.
Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm approaching, your walls tightening. "Fuck, Lando, I- shit, I- I’m cumming!", you let out a breathy moan once more before clenching one last time. Your vision going blurry while your pussy kept throbbing around his cock.
"Lando, please I need-", you winced at the oversensitivity when he kept pounding into you. "Time", you breathed through a moan, gripping the back of his neck tighter as you felt another orgasm approaching. All while Lando never stopped fucking into you even when you came for a second time in a row.
The overstimulation leaving you as a sobbing mess. "Lan- lando, it’s too much! I- I can’t- fuck! 'm cumming, Lando-", you cried, tears streaming down your face, you head falling forward on his chest, not having the ability to keep it upright anymore.
"Yeah? You’re cumming again?", Lando mocked you, rocking his hips a bit slower.
"But I missed you so much, haven’t you missed me?"
"I- missed you- fuck! So much- so fucking much", you cried, your walls repeatedly clenched around his cock.
"Fuck! Lando!", you called pathetically when he started to pick up his pace again and relentlessly started hammering inside you, chasing his own orgasm.
You couldn’t do anything apart from moan, cry and clench around him, feeling another orgasm approaching as well.
"Shit- I’m so close", Lando groaned as a whisper, pulling you closer to him and placing his lips on yours. "I’m cumming- baby- I’m-", he whispered against your lips. Your body already going limp against his as you felt him filling you up with his cum.
A deep and breathy moan left his lips as he slowed down his pace. You felt the sticky liquid dropping out of you and running down the inner side of your leg.
Lando whipped it up with his finger and held it in front of your mouth. Without hesitation you took his finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and closing your eyes at the taste of his cum on your lips.
Lando gently rocked his hips again, making you whine. "Not again, Lando- please I- I need a minute", you winced, feeling way too overstimulated after cumming so many times in a row.
"Shh, baby it’s okay, just tryna fuck my cum back into you, to make sure it stays there until I can go back inside you again", he reassured you, before slowly pulling out, making you gasp and wince at the feeling of emptiness.
Exhausted you placed your head on his chest and closed your eyes while he held your waist.
"So did you find something greater in all those models’ beds?", you said with a dumbfound smirk forming on your lips, your mind still hazy while trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You felt his chest vibrating as he laughed and shook his head with a smirk. "Oh baby, I think you know exactly that nothing compares to you!"
You chuckled and lifted your head as he reached over to the paper towels and started cleaning your inner leg up a little. "What do we do now?", you asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice, as the reality of your situation came crushing down on you. "Well, I for damn hope you won’t go back to that milk boy", Lando chuckled, reaching for his belt to close his trousers again after tucking his cock away.
You stayed silent, your blouse still halfway open, your body too tired to move. Lando looked into your eyes before reaching to cover you up again. "You wanna come to mine?", he asked while closing the last button of your blouse.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Getting out of the club without Mason seeing you turned out easier than expected, however something you didn’t expect were people hanging around in front of the monegasque nightclub.
As soon as you opened the door, you already heard yours and Lando’s name being called and saw at least ten phones recording you.
Well, now Mason knows anyway, you thought while Lando grabbed your hand tighter and pulled you to his car quickly. Both of you waved a few times while passing the fans but stayed silent for the short walk. Lando opened the door for you before jogging around to get to the drivers side.
You snuggled into the seat of his familiar car, that wore his familiar scent and when Lando started up the car, he put his familiar hand on your thigh. You took a deep breath, you might be toxic but how damn good does this familiarity feel? It might just cancel the bad parts out.
Lando’s fingers drew circles on your thigh and he smirked when he noticed you opening your legs a little bit wider, an invitation to move his fingers up further.
His hand scooted up, pushing the material of your tight miniskirt away and gently tracing along your inner thighs.
"Baby careful or you’ll ruin the seat", he whispered sarcastically. He didn’t give a damn if you actually did and you knew that because this wouldn’t be the first time it happened.
"Lando-", you quietly whimpered when you felt his fingers come dangerously close to your core, still feeling the sensitivity of the multiple orgasms he had given you merely twenty minutes ago, but backed off just before touching you. "Shhh, baby", he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road while entering the tip of his finger.
Your eyes fluttered shut and you sunk down the seat a little. Without having to see, you knew Lando was smiling.
He pushed his finger further inside and immediately followed up with a second one. You quietly moaned at the pleasure.
"Already so fucking wet for me, baby", he spoke. "My good girl", he purred moving his finger faster inside you.
You moaned at his words and the way his fingers stretched you, making you see stars. "L-lando-", you whispered but got interrupted by another moan when he scissored his fingers. Your eyes shot open and you grabbed his arm tighter, your fingers most likely leaving marks on his skin.
You started moving your hips up to meet his fingers, chasing your own release in the passenger seat of Lando’s sports car.
But Lando suddenly slowed down and almost pulled his fingers out of you completely leaving you empty and whining. "L-lando - plea - ahh- please, baby", you couldn’t form proper sentences while his fingers traced your clit.
"Shh, no baby, you’re not coming until we’re home", he gently whispered, making you furrow your brows. He slid both fingers back inside you and picked his pace up again, making you gasp before an idea came to your head.
You let go of his arm and reached over the middle console and started palming the slight bulge in his trousers.
Now it was his turn to let out a surprised gasp. "You are playing a dangerous game, baby", he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. You simply giggled and squeezed his clothed cock through his pants.
Lando twisted his fingers inside you, making you stop your movements and close your eyes. You hectically tried opening up his belt and trousers before sliding your hand inside his boxers, stroking over his tip that was already leaking pre cum.
"Baby-, I’m driving remember", he rasped, his finger still moving inside you but your main focus now laid on his cock in your hands. "It’s not like this is the first time", you breathed and started pumping his cock.
You could see how much he was fighting to close his eyes, which made a sadistic smirk form on your lips.
Because you were too focused on him, you didn’t see that you were already in front of Lando’s apartment.
He slid his fingers out of you and pushed your hands off him as well. "Let’s go!", he sternly said, getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of his apartment building already, his trousers still opened.
You smirked and left the car as well, hurrying behind him. As soon as you got to the elevator, Lando reached for your hips and smashed his lips on yours again.
His hands moved to your ass and squeezed it playfully.
When you heard the familiar bling of his apartment elevator, he didn’t even look. Lando just moved you backwards out of the elevator, still kissing you. You fumbled his key out of the back pocket of his jeans and opened the door as soon as you got there.
Lando grinned and pushed you against the door to open it up completely before attacking your lips once again, kicking the door shut with his foot.
"Where you wanna go?", he muttered between kisses and moans. "Here is fine", you said breathlessly and pointed to the couch. Lando smirked, remembering what had happened on this couch, remembering catching you making out with a random dude after one of your fights.
"Was it over when he unbottoned your blouse?", Lando smirked, opening your blouse button for button, before pushing it off your body.
You smirked when you realized where he was getting at. But two could play that game, you had also caught him with a random girl on his exact couch.
"Was it over when she laid down on your couch?", you replied with the same smirk, only standing in your lace underwear and walking backwards to sit down on his couch.
Lando moved closer in only his trousers. He placed his strong arms on either side of your head and leaned down so his lips were almost touching yours.
"Was it ever really over?"
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#lando norris#f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#carlando#landoscar#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you
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pairing: gojo satoru x reader
summary: best friend!satoru is everything to me, fluff, teeny tiny bit angsty, but only bc of pining (my favorite), here to add to my simp satoru agenda, he’s trying his best but reader is oblivious (same), pls notice him
rheya’s note: i cant stop thinking about best friend!satoru so i’m here to share this silly little blurb LMAO that’s it enjoy !! part 2
if satoru had known that being your best friend would be this difficult, he would have turned away from you when you said hi to him on your first day at jujutsu high.
it's not that he doesn't care about you. no, quite the opposite actually. he's always cared about you more than he'd like to admit. he can remember the way he used track the eyes of fellow students trailing you when you walked by. he can remember the sting of his nails as they dug into his clenched palms, and how suguru would pat his shoulder sympathetically when he noticed. he was sixteen at the time.
back then it seemed like he would grow out of his teenage crush, after being dismissed as your good friend for so long. but no, just his luck that these stupid feelings would grow and grow until they were tangled up around his very soul. a vice-like grip.
and now almost seven years later, nothing has changed.
"and he told me that if i wanted to be more interesting i should learn to fence, like he does!" you rant, throwing your hands up as you pace the length of his kitchen. satoru leans against the counter, arms crossed as he watches you vent your anger over yet another failed first date.
"uh huh." he acknowledges, trying to stay focused as you continue your annoyed speech. his fingers flex against his biceps, a thinly veiled attempt at controlling his frustration. whether he's frustrated with you or the man you were with, he has no clue.
"then he asked me where i was from, and then said i didn't look like it!" you rage, face hot as you finally unload the frustration you've been carrying all evening.
satoru huffs in mild irritation, trying hard not to roll his eyes. but you hear it and turn to him, half ticked off and half curious. "what was that?"
he clicks his tongue.
"you do this all the time. you always pick guys who treat you like shit. i'm not even surprised anymore." he snaps, a bit more forceful than he intended to be.
there's a silence that follows, and satoru’s unlucky enough to catch the mildly surprised look on your face. he tongues his cheek, brows pinched as he watches your expression fall. an ugly feeling that reminds him suspiciously of guilt rolls around in his stomach.
"you’re right…" you sigh, shoulders slumping as you cross your arms with a defeated shake of your head. "it's just tiring, you know?"
he turns his back to you, reaching across the counter to start slicing up an apple, trying to keep his hands occupied because they're itching to touch you. but he can't keep the bitterness out of his tone when he answers with a clipped, "yeah i know."
he can practically feel your confused stare on his back. but then you chuckle in amusement, mirth clear in your tone. "what do you mean you know? you literally get attention from random people on the street. you can have anyone you want." you laugh.
"are you serious?" he asks, eyes wide with disbelief as he spins around to face you again. you only blink at him, expression so annoyingly clueless it makes him sigh. he turns away from you once again, going back to cutting the apple.
"what?" you cock your head, not understanding why he's so forlorn about it. "most people would jump at the chance to date you. everyone wants you, you know?"
"not everyone. not the one who matters." he mutters bitterly as he places the apple slices onto a plate. you said all of it so casually, like it's supposed to be obvious, but all satoru feels is an overwhelming wave of disappointment wash over him.
"you…never mind." he relents, biting his tongue. "it's not important."
he hears your sharp intake of breath as you gasp, curiosity no doubt brimming in your barely concealed grin.
"ooh interesting! are you telling me you have a thing for someone, toru?" the teasing in your tone is palpable, and satoru feels his stomach flip pleasantly when you say his name. he turns around to face you, letting his shoulders drop as a helpless smile stretches across his face.
he walks up to you, pushing an apple slice past your lips and chuckling quietly. you're still giving him those curious little eyes as you chew, and he tries to swallow down the overwhelming wave of pure affection that threatens to burst from within. clearly today wasn't the day you were going to realize what kind of feelings he's been keeping a secret for so many years.
that's okay. he'll wait as long as you need him to.
he flicks your forehead gently, before reaching down to tug on your cheek. "don't worry your pretty little head about that, sweet thing. you'll figure it out soon enough."
#[𐐪— rheya’s writings. 𐑂]#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#gojo satoru headcanons#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo fluff#gojo angst#jjk#jjk fluff#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo satoru x y/n#jjk fanfic#jjk season 2#gojou satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo drabbles#gojo imagine#gojo#jujutsu kaisen x you
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 6
summary ;; This is the reality of Jake Sully: the father and Olo'eyktan of the People cannot coexist, Eywa teaches her lessons in the toughest ways.
PART 5 | NEXT (wip)
pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader
genre ;; pure angst and family feels
notes / explanations ;; well this took a hot minute. am back on my bs
WARNING for violence and t0rture, reader discretion is advised. Please excuse my mistakes if you see any!
Jake moved on pure primitive instinct, unbridled arctic rage honing all his senses into one laser point of focus. It wasn’t survival, and it surely wasn’t prey running from predator, there was nothing noble about what he was trying to achieve.
That avatar was going to die today, and Jake was going to make it hurt. No fair game. No warrior’s death. No respect.
Devoid of the shape of humanity or the ties that bound him to it, he was the embodiment of a creature’s killer intent, body taking over and consciousness disappearing to the backseat as he catapulted his tomahawk at the avatar, taking advantage of the miniscule opening provided by a magazine change needed after emptying all of his bullets to a Jake luring him into wasting his resources away.
The dull squelch of the hand-carved ax’s head plunging into flesh couldn’t be dampened by the avatar’s choked and short shout, and Jake was jumping out of cover in no time, a bull to red, advancing towards the man, footsteps not hidden out of having no concern for it at all, let him panic or try to struggle for all Jake cared.
Opposite of what he expected, the rifle wasn’t picked up or fumbled to aim at him. The avatar, pale in the face and pupils having devoured the yellow, fear trumping the pain of his arm almost sliced off from shoulder, crawled away on his back from Jake in full speed, getting up before Jake could reach him, and started staggering into the forest, dropping the tomahawk in the process.
Jake stopped in his tracks for a moment and picked his weapon up, the dark liquid glistening purple in the light of the Tree of Souls, droplets of blood making the moss light up as they hit the ground. His chest heaved in controlled, loud breaths, mouth pulled back in a snarl, watching the pathetic son of a bitch trying to get away.
He was one of the lot who’d shot you, hurt you, tortured you — simply to get a reaction out of Jake.
He was the one who pulled Jake away before he could fix his mistakes, undo the damage they had done, and get you back.
Jake was so close. So close.
You were there. You were right there. He could still feel you in his arms, his shoulder imprinted with your tears, shiest of smiles at a better future he could build with you from the burnt soil of your relationship.
If it hadn’t been for him…
That man was your murderer.
He deserved the hell of a father’s making.
This avatar was a marine — and the fucking idiot was running into the oblivion blind worse than a normal civilian would in this situation, had all those years of training evaporated in one second? Jake’s steps were determined, yet lax following after the guy, nose picking up the trail of blood left behind, eyes watching the red splatters. This was all Hansel and Gretel for him, playing follow the breadcrumbs.
The sound of thumping, frantic running, bumping into obstacles, crashing into flora, all was distinguishable from the natural song of the forest Jake had gotten so familiar with in these fifteen years. No response came from the avatar, but Jake wasn’t hurrying. He would have him. Let the bastard tire himself out first — but he wouldn’t let him die. No. He could smell the fear, the blood, anger at bay, all ice, knowing the trees would carry all the sounds he needed to Jake. He could hear exactly where the avatar was. and If he was hoping he’d bleed himself out faster than Jake could reach him to save himself from what was going to happen, well…
He’d better start praying for mercy to whatever deity held his worthless faith, because Jake had none of it. They had no mercy for you, his sinless, innocent child, all but wails and yelps and blood, and apologies for it.
Every time Jake thought of you in that tremendous pain to the brink of delirium, he burned in his heart’s ice until he was black and purple all over. Your smile was so real, your embrace was tiny and warm in his arms and he had a chance, the only chance no parent could ever get in this life. Jake had dissolved together with that mirage.
The part of him engulfed in flames wanted to end this quickly and painfully—to burn it all, break that man in, scream his lungs out, the other part of him, frozen fury that scalded over in the loss of you, wanted to draw it out, wanted to inflict never-ending pain, to bring the avatar back from the brink of death over and over again just to repeat it in a cycle.
His child. His baby.
The ties that held Jake together were getting pulled tight, the pressure building like deep water currents, thinner threads snapping and crackling, body being pulled to all five directions from all five limbs. Awareness went out and barged its way back in hot flashes, he couldn’t comprehend the passing of time and how long he let your murderer catch the delusion of shaking Jake off his tail — but, his instincts knew to reveal himself before the avatar could be claimed by blood loss.
Dangling hope right in front of his face just to snatch it away wasn’t enough. It could never be enough compared to you who had dragged your own corpse back home, muted to your own pain cocooned between those who should have meant nothing but home and safety to you. Torture. You had lived torture in your last hours with help just one step, one word away.
Nothing would ever be enough.
Jake emerged from the thick flora like the grim reaper himself who would always be waiting right at the spot of the reaping wherever the soul ran away to, detached and unimpressed, blank face not reflecting the scorched soul inside. The almost passed out avatar jolted awake when he smelled the smoke from Jake’s shadow falling on him, and could only press his back further to the body of the cluster of big rocks he had taken shelter against as if somehow becoming one with it could shield him away from Jake’s wrath.
The man’s breathing was getting louder and shakier the more Jake stood there motionless. “C’mon then,” he said between clenched teeth, spasming hand dropping from his mutilated shoulder, squaring up the last drops of his courage. “Get on with it.”
Jake’s whitened fingers were making noise against the handle of his tomahawk, but his voice was hauntingly hollow, unfeeling now that he had the man right in his palm. “Thought I should let you live what you did to my daughter first.”
The avatar began to scream. “Fuck you, man, we didn’t do none of this shit to that kid—”
Jake’s tone didn’t change, but it cut worse than a knife. “You killed my kid.”
His eyes widened, breath hitching, the reality of what was coming to him finally sinking in and Jake witnessed every panicked second of it. “Fuck…” His gaze wildly alternated between Jake and the tomahawk, raising his better, trembling hand up for feeble defense. “Look, look, listen, we didn’t kill her, alright? We patched her up, okay, she was going to be a prisoner, what happened happened because you engaged in battle, we wouldn’t do that to a—AGH!”
He was interrupted by Jake sharply shoving the head of the tomahawk into his injury, just putting it in there, not moving it further down. “Do you have children, marine?”
The man palmed at the weapon, fingernails digging into the wood, but no matter how much he pushed, it didn’t budge one bit. “Stop, stop! Fuck—”
Jake repeated again, firmer. “I asked you a question, do you have children?”
“No!— No, god, argh!”
He spaced out for a while, watching him squirm and trash to get away with defeated, half-assed attempts, also unable to because of how much of an immovable object Jake was making the weapon buried in the open wound be. It would hit the bone if he used more strength.
With a fixed, stony stare, Jake removed the tomahawk, waiting for the man’s deplorable whimpers to recede before breaking him the news like reading it off a doctor’s report. “You won’t get to have any.”
He didn’t look like he cared about something like that, but the man knew his fate insinuated by the words. Nevertheless,it didn’t mean he could be free from the survivor’s instinct’s mood swings his body was putting him through. Denial to bargaining within minutes. “Just kill me already, you deserter piece of—”
“Oh, no, no no,” Jake reassured, the only flicker of emotion he had shown since he’d cornered the avatar. “You won’t get to die for a long time, either.”
The avatar grunted, head falling down before he started to shake it. “Please just let it end—man, just let it end, I’m sorry, okay, please!” A whole body-trembling begging shifted to anger the more Jake remained non-responsive. Watching. Just watching. The hole in his chest getting wider the more he fed this man’s suffering to it — it wasn’t enough. “Just fucking do it! Pussy ass bitch! Come on you blue motherfucker, kill me! Kill m—”
“Are you the one who shot my daughter?”
“What?”
“Are you. The one. Who shot my daughter?”
The avatar’s face twisted. “It wasn’t me—it wasn’t—asshole, you already killed the guy, I didn’t fucking do anything!—”
“You... didn’t do anything?”
A beat. The forest fell silent in Jake’s ears. Just like how the noises you made had abruptly died down as he was putting pressure on your wound.
And like that, the thick haze that had Jake desensitized blew over, unadulterated anger rushed to his body, acidic and nauseating, soul stitching back to his limbs by a million needles and he began to shake, face contorting, teeth showing itself, the hiss that lacerated his throat was the most terrifying one of his life yet, it didn’t sound like it belonged to a sentient being, twisted by a grieving, demented animalistic horror. The avatar’s breath hitched, whatever protest and voice he had escaping deep inside his body, ears pinned back to his head.
“Of course,” Jake glowered, swallowing the scorching stones blocking his throat. He closed his burning eyes, and was greeted by the image of you, opening them back again, and shaking the ax as if it was an accusing finger.
And without a word of warning, his hand shot down and grabbed the avatar from the neck of his tactical vest, hurling him over the chest-level array of big rocks forming a pointy bed above, ignoring the cries of pain as the abused, torn open flesh of the wound dragged through the sharp teeth of the gravel, dousing them in blood. “Please, please, stop!—I’m sorry, I was wrong, that wasn’t right, shit, shit!”
Jake snatched the man’s dominant arm that was coincidentally the same one dangling by fractured bone and tendons from the shoulder. His soul had known what he wanted right from the start before his brain had processed it. “This hand,” he spat, holding it from the wrist, gnashing his teeth. “that pulled the trigger at me…”
Murdered his daughter for a second time.
All a soldier’s worth for. One hand to hold the stock tight against the body and one to fire. All that to take a single life.
Leaning the hand down against the rock in a sudden move, Jake slammed on the blunt, pointy end of the tomahawk on it like he was hammering a nail, the sickening crack of the bones breaking got followed by the avatar’s fractured scream.
Jake saw you hunched, cheekily laughing in the blue and purple of the creek, freckles glowing because of the eclipse, silhouette illuminated by the floating bioluminescent bugs.
Spinning the tomahawk in his clammy hand in a full 360 turn, he smashed it down once more, stronger. The metal broke skin and sank into spongy muscle. His ears were buzzing, ringing from how the shrill yells.
Jake was hugging you after what seemed to be years, and your little arms were clinging to him for life — you were sand slipping from his fingers.
Jake hammered again.
You were telling him how mean he was to you, your voice suppressing the avatar’s.
He brought it down one more time and felt the tomahawk recoil from hitting rock.
You were bashful as you repeated how Jake would always love you.
Guttural breaths getting louder with effort each hit, he kept slamming it down until everything was his beautiful little sweet girl.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again and again and again and again and again until there was no resistance from the limb anymore and the man had gone silent and it was all mashed meat he was pounding—
And then he almost plunged it to your bleeding, battered corpse, your stomach covered in reddish brown from the dried brown, body ashen blue, and Jake cried out in terror, jumping back and losing strength in his legs as the tomahawk flew from his hand and he fell over.
His lungs constricted, refusing to take any breaths in and his heart ricocheted around in his ribcage, he was gaping at the wall of rock now washed red as if it was some white rose painted red in Alice in Wonderland.
Jake sat there for the longest time, dissociated.
In those moments, he wasn’t Toruk Makto, he wasn’t Olo’eyktan, he wasn’t the pillar of a family of seven. He was simply Jake Sully.
However, he wasn’t allowed to be stripped down to the bone until all that’s left was a mourning father. That was Jake’s reality.
He had to cast the crippled man aside, the tragedy of his child away, and bring the leader of the People out right as your ghost rippled in his vision, watching spitefully within the forest — because all you wanted was for him to be your father, and he couldn’t even fucking do that after your death.
This avatar was a valuable asset, a hostage to question. For the sake of his people.
He wasn’t allowed revenge.
A single drop of tear rolled down expressionless face. When he looked down, Jake’s hands were still stained with your blood.
The only instance a child should be covered in blood is when they come out of their mother’s womb, little lungs being burned with existence for the first time, crying from the pain of being separated from Eywa’s arms, birth mother a complete stranger to them.
The gore of you barely clinging to life, unmoving, drenched in your own blood, wiped and wiped to the point Neytiri had to change buckets of water until it turned light pink was overlapping with the joyful image of your newborn self she had lovingly and gently cleaned of the remains of labor with wetted mothsilk, skin too sensitive for water for the moment, the blue coming alive as the blood and other clotted bodily fluids were cleansed.
It wasn’t the broken, ice-cold, lithe body of a young girl Neytiri had cleaned in the torment of her excoriated, unraveling mind, it was her baby’s. Her baby, her poor baby with a gaping hole in the middle of your body, memories marauding Neytiri’s lucidity.
She lived the moment of your first cleansing over and over again.
You were a particularly indomitable cryer, Neytiri had known you would be infamous for your battle cries right as she was brought back from the blackout of post-birth by your overly-healthy wailing — or perhaps you would best Ninat as a singer when you’d unapologetically blossom, but one thing was ascertained: her first daughter was a fierce, fiery blue ball of ardor compared to Neteyam, who was almost shy and reluctant in disturbing people around him in his weeping that a collective worry for his health had plagued the whole clan.
As you squirmed, smeared in chunks of her flesh and blood, as if you wanted to jump off from her arms and start walking already, Neytiri had smiled up at her Jake, your father, unable to take his eyes off you, stuck between awe and laughs that came and went. “She has your heart,” she’d told him, spent and hurting, but wonderfully alive. “Strong.”
He’d traced his thumb through her drenched hairline. “Lungs, you mean?” His scent, wind and hearthfire, had enveloped Neytiri when Jake had leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I think they’re yours.” The teasing about how you had made Neytiri scream in labor wouldn’t have gone unpunished if she wasn’t on the edge of sleep held up only by your crying, so, he’d gotten a light hit on the side of his face instead. But Jake knew how to apologize, he’d always been spectacular at it. “I’d say she takes after me in appearance, look at her little ugly face.”
To Neytiri, you were beautiful, face dark purple from how strong you were screaming, and a mini-village elder with the wrinkles, swinging those little fists — things that made you lovely in her eyes. Her first daughter.
She had learned motherhood from Neteyam, but she would learn to understand her mother and her choices through you, someone she thought couldn’t be more different from her — Neytiri, all Mo’at could have been, and Mo’at, all Neytiri might have become, once. She prayed you would love her as much as she’d begun to love you the second you were in her arms.
To think the enormity of her love hadn’t reached you — it was one of the greatest failures of Neytiri’s life. If it had, you’d be wounded, but perfectly conscious and well in her mother’s tent. If it had, you would have been beyond comfortable telling those demons had hurt you.
In that all-consuming devastation, the woven towel she was using to wipe the thin sheet of sweat that formed on your body slipped from her uncoordinated hands and fell on your chest, and Neytiri had to hold back the breath that spiked to become a hiccup by covering her mouth, and immediately, her curled hand was engulfed in a smaller, five-fingered one. She came eye-to-eye with Kiri after raising her head, putting her other hand on hers at the girl’s more disheveled and messy self, heart dropping to her stomach at the fatigue varnishing an extra layer of moisture in her daughter’s drooping eyes.
“Oh Kiri,” Neytiri mumbled, caressing her cheek and brushing the tangled hair away from her face.
“Why don’t you go get some rest, mom, hm?”
“Even if I somehow agreed to that, I could never agree to leaving my daughter alone in this.”
“I’m fine.” Stopping to take a breath, she sighed, collecting the towel and starting to fold it. “Well, not really fine, but don't worry about me. We’re all miserable here. And that’s natural.” Fiddling with the corners of the cloth, she leaned in a bit and lowered her voice, light reflecting from the yellow of her irises making it look like they shone from within. “I… I know she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. Eywa has bestowed us a gift she has never given to anyone before and it’s for a reason. I feel that everything will be set right.” She shook her head up and down, determined. “Dad will do it. I know he will.”
Neytiri trusted Kiri with her intuition and understanding when it came to the inscrutable intentions of Eywa, she was closer to the Great Mother than any Tsahik was — so close that she would drift away too much from her family. And deep down, Neytiri was heartsick by this invisible line that separated her from her daughter, any parent in her place would be unsettled like this.
She was also hog-tied to close the distance growing between them because of the human boy Spider and how she would find camaraderie in him in their ‘orphan’ status as she called it. Kiri was already faraway in her obscure existence and unwittingly separated herself as if she didn’t see herself as a real part of the family some days, and Neytiri hated that the ‘kinship’ she’d formed with Spider was planting these ideas into her head when she was her and Jake’s daughter, no more, no less. To overwrite those feelings, she tried so hard to reach Kiri, but was unsettled by the feeling of being hated sometimes, again, more or less for her stance in placing Spider at the outskirts of their family.
But oftentimes Kiri would express her affection through small, otherwise unnoticeable actions, just like this one, a caring touch and reassurance that could melt an ice cube — and Neytiri basked in the babiest of steps between them. And maybe this was how Jake had it with you, too, she had never thought about it like this before.
Taking in Neytiri’s solemn silence, Kiri grumbled, suddenly agitated about something. “I just… I just wish I had isirka resin and xhikul seeds for this paste and cover her wound with it. Grandmother’s extract isn’t enough to stimulate the bone marrow and ugh—” The girl groaned with the obvious guilt at groaning in the first place, as well. “I’m sorry, mom, I don’t know what—”
“It’s alright, Kiri,” Neytiri said, weariness blending with tenderness, knowing you’d agree too. You would have probably told her to not waste her energy and wait around when there wasn’t anything left to do anyway. “Maybe it’s you who needs some rest. You’ve worked hard. Harder than any of us. You do need rest, too.”
Kiri was quick to refuse. “I’m trying something new, I can’t go anywhere.”
“I’m sure one of your brothers—”
Her earpiece buzzed alive. “Neytiri, do you read me?”
The unexpected timing of it caught her off guard, her hand flying up to the device, drums of alarm going off in her head by the croaky, despondent note to his voice. The impact of their previous argument evaporated from existence just by hearing his distress. “Jake?” She focused on you, not observing any difference, and frowned in worry, her pulse picking up pace as Kiri also locked her attention to her the moment she heard her father was on the line. “What happened?”
“I have here one of Quaritch’s dreamwalkers—whatever they are.” Neytiri’s mouth opened and closed at the reveal, forehead creasing. “Alive. Somehow survived to get to the Tree of Souls.”
Her hand instinctively descended to touch your cool and clammy arm closest to her. “Tree of Souls…? But you were—”
“Yeah. Yeah, he… I couldn’t. I couldn’t…”
She stared at your face, all thoughts draining from her mind. “What are you saying, Jake?”
Silence.
“Jake,” Neytiri implored, her voice snuffed out towards the end. She tried again. “Jake, I don’t understand. What does this mean..?”
“Son of a bitch pulled me out before I could… before I could finish talking to her.” Kiri reached for her when she let out an incoherent, disbelieving voice, getting more panicked as Neytiri clawed at her tightening chest with his next words. “I failed, Neytiri. I couldn’t… She…”
Neytiri was physically helpless to respond, and Kiri couldn’t hold back from inquiring seeing the state she was in. “Mom? Mom! What’s wrong?”
“This man, if it wasn’t for this man, I had it.” Jake kept talking at an increasing speed the longer Neytiri didn’t say anything. “I had her right in my arms, making future plans, smiling, everything was perfect, and then he—” His breath quivered. “He fucking—” And he stopped the sentence abruptly to get some semblance of control back because Eywa knew Neytiri was losing it ever so slowly. “I need you here with me right now, please. Please, I…”
Neytiri refused to acknowledge what Jake couldn’t say out loud. You were still breathing, she felt your chest rise and fall even if the pattern was weak. You had life left in you. Jake saying he failed made no sense to her, she didn’t believe it.
“Neytiri, I need to question this… this filth, need to learn all I can about what’s going on, but I can’t do it on my own. I’ll kill him. In a heartbeat. I want to squeeze the life out of him with my hands right this moment and I— I can’t… We have to know how they could have gotten this far, what they’re planning—and now right to the Tree of Souls too, and…” The rambling that got chaotic and disconnected faded off eventually, as if he’d lost his voice. “Shit.”
And throughout all that, Neytiri had gone from confused, in denial, at the threshold of grief but not nearly in there anchored by your pulse, and lusting for blood within minutes. Kiri was taken aback by the anger radiating from her. “Bring him here!”
“I can’t. He could have a tracker on him—they could have put it in his body. I can’t risk that.”
Neytiri stood up with only one thing in her mind, and it didn’t match Jake’s. “Where are you?”
“You gotta let me pass, buddy, come on! You wanna take my head off or something? Why are you being like this!”
Hands up and quick on his feet, Lo’ak was trying to negotiate.
With an ikran of all things. Not even his.
Yours.
Mom storming out like a wronged, vengeful spirit had been the perfect chance for him to do a quick supply run sneak off, but your overgrown big bird with the exact same attitude as you was getting in his way and blocking Lo’ak off by snapping its jaw at his head and opening its sunset fire tinged wings every time he attempted to cross over to his own ikran. They were basically at a standstill and he had no idea why.
Lo’ak just wanted to help. Help you.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
Shit.
Neteyam. Making his way to him with such speed that got his braids swinging and of course he’d sniffed Lo’ak out like a nantang. Followed the odd silence, probably. Eywa, he should have thought this out better.
“Skxawng, do you not remember what dad said?”
“I do,” Lo’ak hummed and hawed, and that was the problem. He’d never felt this guilty about disobeying dad’s orders before, it was making him squirm. “But look, Kiri said she needed isirka resin and xhikul seeds or whatever to treat her, I’m going—”
Neteyam’s jaw had flexed when he said whatever, but there was no visible agitation after he gave a sharp breath through his nose. “So let’s call mother or—”
“They’re busy with some sky person dad caught—”
“I know. The same ones who did this to our sister. I know, Lo’ak.” Neteyam aggressively gestured to the exit of the cave system, shaking his arm while speaking. “What do you think will happen if you go off on your own and land yourself in bigger trouble than she did? Huh?”
Lo’ak threw resentful looks at your ikran. “I can’t stay put like this. I have to do something.”
“This again? There is nothing we can do.” He hadn’t said that in his normal drilling of dad’s orders — Neteyam had the same pain of acceptance that were Lo’ak’s bruises etched onto his face.
And that made Lo’ak want to throw up all over the place. He’d experienced countless sicknesses his siblings had fallen to over the years, none of those were as fatal as this and he didn’t know what the fuck to do. What was he supposed to do when his sister was dying? What did one do when a family member was in this situation anyway? Nothing seemed right to him.
And something was finally, finally within his power — and Lo’ak would of course rise up to the challenge without hesitation. He wasn’t just going to sit down and let that possibility of your salvation slip by. “But there is. Kiri said—”
“Lo’ak if you leave right now and somehow get caught dad will never trust you again. He was the most open he’s ever been, don’t betray him like that.”
He was getting annoyed that Neteyam was ignoring the whole point, though it wasn’t as if Lo’ak didn’t know. He was fully aware, and that’s why this was supposed to be a secret. Dad couldn’t be hurt by what he didn’t know now, could he? Not only were you getting Kiri’s remedy, which he was sure as his name was Lo’ak that would end up most effective, but he also wasn’t breaking his promise to dad when the tiniest thread of trust in his son was knotted by the man just recently.
Neteyam grabbed him by the top of his head in a brotherly manner but his hold was of steel, the boy tried to grumpily push him off but he didn’t budge, staring right into his soul. “Use what’s in this for once and just tell dad or mother, they’re down in the forest already anyway.” When he let go, Lo’ak stumbled back, rubbing the sting off, and the semi-playful older brother was back. “And one of them will actually know what to look for.”
His immediate response was refusal. “I know what I’m looking for—”
“What does isirka look like?”
The sounds your ikran was making was eerily close to laughter and Lo’ak felt heat rush up to the tips of his ears. “It’s a tree.”
Neteyam didn’t have brow hair like Lo’ak did, but the way he raised the lines was always more expressive than how he did it. “Xhikul, then?”
“Flower, skxawng.”
“Wrong.” Lo’ak’s tail started beating the air at the condescending tone. “Kiri is talking about the fruit. Xhika is its flower.”
He rolled his eyes, turning away. “Whatever—”
“Is it whatever?” Neteyam grabbed Lo’ak by the shoulder and spun him around so rough that he got dizzy. “Are you calling my sister’s life whatever?”
Lo’ak was going to explode from how wrong this was going and how insistent Neteyam was to twist his words. “That’s not what I meant bro!”
“You are so careless.” Neteyam’s tail had shot up ramrod straight, the little bush of hair at the end of it all puffed up, ears perking in all directions. He wasn’t necessarily yelling but was tense all over, something he did whenever they were playing back in the day and he was about to pounce after staying still enough to implant a false seed of safety. “You don’t even think about what can happen if you were to bring a completely different ingredient! You don’t think!”
“Sorry that I’m trying to help! What are you doing?”
“Keeping us safe. Keeping you safe.” He pressed his lips together on a thin line, but couldn’t hold back whatever was bubbling inside. “I’m not losing another sibling, Lo’ak!”
Only a small gasp escaped Lo’ak when he opened his mouth in retaliation. He couldn’t have found his voice even if he found something to say to that rawness in return, anyway.
The gut-churning guilt doubled.
“Hey… I—”
“Go,” Neteyam whispered, tilting his head together with the lone word. “Since you’re dying to help, help Kiri. She’s exhausted. I don’t think grandmother will refuse.”
“What about you?” And there he goes again. Wrong words. Neteyam was looking more closed-off than before. “I’m not accusing or anything—”
“I can’t go in there.”
“What?”
“I can’t,” Neteyam took a deep breath and loudly let it go, tail deflating, the arch of it depressing as hell for some reason. “I can’t look at her.”
Neteyam just gave a forlorn smile in return to Lo’ak’s heavily concerned looks demanding he continue but not knowing how to word it, his back looked weirdly lonely as he was tending to your significantly calmer ikran to join back the horde.
Buried in negative thoughts all the way back and ignoring the pitiful looks from the rest of the clan, he met Kiri outside of the healing tent talking to Spider, and he could see Tuk’s back covering the view to you in his peripheral.
They were whispering about something and it was obvious even from a distance where they were nothing but stick figures. At least try to look less suspicious, Lo’ak thought.
The only part he caught from the conversation was Spider saying, “Just describe them to me,” — Kiri was really leaning in towards him.
“What’s going on?”
The two looked like they were caught in the middle of scheming, and it clicked almost immediately.
If Lo’ak had thought of going off on his own, so had they.
“You aren’t going anywhere, bro,” he said, draping his arm across the human boy’s shoulders. “Neteyam’s literally patrolling.”
“You have to be kidding me,” Spider groaned, visibly disappointed. It warmed Lo’ak’s heart to see he was totally down for sneaking off the camp for you. “You said your dad told him to rest.”
“Yeah, he did. Except Neteyam never rests. He has a dancing glow worm up his ass.”
The conversation couldn’t continue because Kiri did a double take at something.
“Tuk!” Kiri took a few steps aside, squinting as if she didn’t think she was seeing it right. Then her expression burst into panic, her hands flying forward as she ran to the tent, Spider and Lo’ak could only stare, baffled. “Tuk, oh Eywa, what are you doing!—”
“I’m giving her water, she’s thirsty.”
“What?”
He actually rushed to the entrance of the tent, nearly falling headfirst in, having stumbled on some rock. Your mouth was actually open. And Tuk was really trying to get you to drink from the bowl she was holding against your mouth.
You choked at one point, still unconscious, but it was a sign of life. Lo’ak didn’t know if the shocked screech came from him or Kiri.
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Toxic - L. Heeseung
Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!
Warning: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, angst, cum eating, arguments, cursing, dry humping, multiple orgasms, mentions of cheating, crying, the words slut and whore are used.
Genre: ex’s, toxic relationship, smut, mdni!
WC:4,351k
“Knew you’d be here,” you hear an all too familiar voice say right beside your ear, and you can’t even react before his large arms encase your figure.
You jumped slightly and set your cup down on the kitchen counter, as well as the bottle of alcohol that you had been drinking that night.
With your shaky hands, you attempt to take his arms off you, but the effort is futile, and you end up resting your hands above his that lay on your waist.
“I waited a whole hour to finally get you alone, baby. Your friends were stealing you away from me,” he laughs softly, his warm breath tickling your neck. “But now,” he steps a bit closer, brushing himself against you, and you feel your knees grow weak as his bulge rests between your cheeks. “You’re all mine,” he nibbles on the tip of your ear, earning a quiet gasp from your beautiful lips.
“Hee,” he melts when you call him by the nickname you gave him all those years ago, chills running up his spine as he shudders against you, inhaling a sharp breath while subtly pressing his crotch on your backside.
He lowers his hands to your hips, gripping them firmly and pulling you against his chest, your body completely flush with his, leaving you no space and no choice but to feel the thick, pulsing outline of his stiffness.
You let go of his hands, letting him use your body as you clutched onto the kitchen counter to stabilize yourself, and you wish you could say you were doing this with him cause you’re drunk, but you’re far from that cause he came to you only a few shots in.
A part of you felt guilty for letting him back in so easily, but one touch from him and all rational thoughts were out the window. The only thing swirling in your brain right now was the thought of him laying you on your back, spreading you wide open, and taking every last ounce of dignity from you.
He smirks down at your connected bodies when you take matters into your own hands and grind your ass against his hard-on. “Let me take you home,” he whispers and taps your waist two times, momentarily knocking you out of your trance as you agree and let him guide you out of the party.
He feels lucky when he’s able to sneak by your friends. The last thing he needs is for them to interfere like before.
He took you to his car, the scent filling your nostrils and bringing back so many memories of the late-night drives or grocery runs you both used to go on back when your guy's relationship was healthy.
Without much thought he put the keys in the ignition and started his car driving back to your place based off nothing but muscle memory from all the times he used to pick you up for dates he looked to his right seeing you stare out the window and he can’t believe you’re actually sitting here with him right now after everything you guys have been through.
He puts his hand on your thigh and hides his smile when you jump slightly from his touch.
He sees you visibly relax, and he strokes your bare thigh with his thumb, inching his hand up higher and higher till he feels the warmth between your legs. He settles his hand there, kneading and tugging on the soft flesh, working you up for what’s about to come, and by the time you arrive home, your panties are completely drenched. You feel embarrassed for getting so turned on by a simple touch, but you can’t help it. You were undeniably addicted to your ex.
Guiding him upstairs to your apartment room feels all like a blur cause as soon as the door shuts, he’s got his hands all over you, groping every last inch of your skin as his lips press roughly against yours.
Taken aback by his ferocity, your hands clumsily find his strong back, using it as leverage to brace yourself for his hungry kisses. “Oh, heeseung,” you moan into his mouth, and he loves it as it gives him the perfect entrance to your warm, wet mouth. He slips his tongue inside with no permission, but he knows you’d never refuse any of his advances.
“Fuck” he whimpers when you run your fingers through his hair and tug harshly on the roots.
He stumbles his way over to your bedroom, your lips never disconnecting for even a moment as you both discard your shoes somewhere neither of you is even concerned with right now.
Leaning back to finally catch a breather, your eyes flutter open, and he smiles softly while stroking your cheek with his thumb, admiring your beauty up close after so long.
He trails his hands down to your waist, gripping the hem of your shirt, and with your help, he lifts it over your head smoothly, tossing it to the ground.
His hands move to your back, unclasping your bra effortlessly as if you two had just done this yesterday. “Missed this,” he mumbles softly at the sight of your breast, his big hands automatically cupping them, thumbs brushing softly on your nipples as they harden under his sensual touch.
“Mmph,” You bite your lip from the sensation, your hands lowering to the button on his pants, popping it open, and lowering the zipper on his jeans. As soon as you take your hand off his zipper, you cup the pulsing bulge inside his pants, squeezing him softly and taking his breath away.
“Oh my god,” he breathes out, looking down at your hand stroking his throbbing length. “Y/n,” he throws his head back, eyes falling shut from the pleasure as his tip continues to leak and soak straight through his underwear.
You take the open opportunity to attach your lips to his neck placing the most softest kisses he’s ever felt on his skin.
He tilts his head to the side, making it easier for you to kiss and mark up his neck while you jerk off his cock faster. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum” he whispers, eyes still closed, showing zero restraint to the upcoming pleasure despite wanting to make you finish first.
You slow your movements, giving him a break, and he makes the most of it as he gently grips your waist and lays you in your bed.
He does the rest of the work and takes his pants off before getting on the bed and looming over you to take your pants off as well. You assist him by lifting your hips and letting him peel the jean material from your legs, leaving you in only your underwear as he throws your jeans off the bed. “You’re so beautiful,” he says while tracing your inner thighs with his fingertips, your skin forming goosebumps from his teasing touch.
Removing his hands from your skin, he slowly opens his blue flannel one button at a time, watching your eyes become filled with desire with each one he unfastens.
Your legs spread apart just a bit, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and he can tell how much you want him when you grip the sheets and writhe on the bed beneath him, desperate for him to do something.
And he does. He lays beside you, his left hand running along your clothed cunt. “Hee,” you breathe out, arching into his touch and trying to lift your hips to meet his movements.
He presses a bit harder, adding more friction for your pleasure, and he lowers his face to your chest, taking your perked nipple into his mouth and sucking on it softly as he looks up at you, eyes blown wide as if he’s waiting for some kind of approval.
Slipping your panties to the side, his thick fingers come in contact with your bare cunt for the first time tonight, and he runs his digits through your drenched folds tapping your clit gently and rubbing the wetness all over your mound.
Humming against your chest, he slowly eases his finger inside you, taking your breath away.
You grip his wrist for some kind of support as he gently fucks his finger into your heat, little moans slipping past your lips.
He adds a second finger in you stretching your hole open, his thumb circling your clit in soft circles.
Releasing your nipple with a quiet pop, he kisses around the erect bud, placing soft kisses all over your plush breast.
“So good.” You don’t want to let him know he still has this much power over you, but the way his fingers work inside you makes it impossible.
“Yeah? You feel good, baby?” He lays his tongue flat against your chest, licking every inch within his reach, his fingers gradually picking up the pace as he curls them and starts rubbing that spot he memorized all those years ago. It was still carved on his brain despite your guy's separation.
His left leg hooks over yours, his obvious hard-on rubbing against your thigh as he absentmindedly humps your leg. “Ah ah,” he moans shakily, his wet tip getting stimulated by the softness of your thigh.
The action only turns you on more, and the feeling of his scorching length throbbing against your thigh while he pumps your wet walls has you clenching so tightly around his fingers, letting him know you’re not far off. “Hee close, so close,” your arch, your back further into his touch, eyes squeezing shut as you lose yourself in the pleasure of an orgasm that you dreamed of every night since the breakup.
“I know, baby.” he pecks your chest, rutting faster against your thigh, creating more friction the closer you get. “You gonna cum for me?” He whines out, his own orgasm creeping up on him suddenly.
“Yes,” you nod your head over and over, looking down at where his hand was pleasuring you in ways you couldn’t imagine. “Cumming” you helplessly choked out, legs shaking uncontrollably as you had your first orgasm in years.
“That’s it,” he whispers against your ear. “My girl cumming so hard around my fingers” he softly kisses the shell of your ear, his hot breath heightening every last little spark of hot pleasure you felt. “Give it to me, all of it.” The feeling doesn’t fade, and it seems like your high was dragging on forever. Just seconds later, you feel another rush of pleasure flow through you, and a second orgasm comes crashing down around you unexpectedly.
His thumb works gently on your clit as a warm liquid squirts out from between your legs the wet sounds loud and sloppy as his fingers fuck your cunt till you give him everything. “Oh my god, heeseung fuck” you moan loudly, your body quivering in the aftermath as little wet splashes stain your bed as well as heeseung’s hand, but he loves it the way you’re literally wetting yourself all because of him.
“I got you” he nudges your face with his nose, slowly riding your high out until you’ve given him every last ounce out of your perfect pussy. “Baby, you’re so wet you’re dripping on me,” he says in a daze, soaking up the image of you wet and shaking with pleasure when you come back down from that indescribable experience you hid your face in his neck, feeling embarrassed by how your body reacted to him.
He pulls his fingers out of your stretched hole, your squirt running down his wrist as he slurps your cum off his fingers.
The front of his underwear was covered in translucent precum, and he felt like he couldn’t wait for another second to be inside you, especially when he rested on his knees and saw the creamy substance leaking from your entrance. He just knew it was going to feel like absolute heaven to be inside you again.
He quickly pulled down his boxers, revealing his hard veiny cock to your desired-filled eyes as you lay there just waiting for him to fully undress.
On second thought, you couldn’t wait. His underwear only made it to his ankles before you sat up and gripped his shoulders, maneuvering him on the bed, so now he was sitting against the bed frame.
You immediately sat on his lap, circling your hips as your wet panties brushed against his leaky dick. “Condom?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and positioned yourself to ride his thick cock.
He shakes his head back and forth. “mm mmm.” he really didn’t have one because he was not expecting tonight to go like this. “But we don’t need one, baby. Let me fill you up.” he caresses your arms up and down. “Know you love it when I cum inside it” he squeezes your arms a bit more tightly, letting his possessive side take over.
This should have been a red flag for you, but at the moment, it was so hot that it clouded your better judgment, and the idea of him filling your hole with his hot cum and claiming you as his had your brains turned to mush and by the look on your face you didn’t even have to give him an answer for him to know you wanted it too.
You lifted your hips up, and he pushed your panties to the side, giving him just enough access to your little hole. He gripped the base of his cock, putting the tip in and giving you that nice little stretch before pushing in a bit more. “Oh,” you moan, rolling your head back as he spreads you open with his dick.
“Oh fuck god, y/n,” he whines, his hands rushing to your sides to grip onto something to ground himself.
You gently sat down, careful not to overwhelm him. You bounced lightly on it, getting both of you used to the sensation, and naturally, as it started to feel better and better, it wasn’t long before you were sunken down all the way on him, his tip touching your cervix as your pussy lips kissed his full balls.
“Kiss me.” his breath was heavy, eyes barely open, as he tilted his head up, waiting for your lips to touch his.
You ran your fingers through his hair, bringing his face closer, zeroing in on his perfect pink lips and connecting them together.
You can feel him twitch inside the moment you stick your tongue in his mouth. He moans quietly, feeling breathless from your kiss, his fingertips pressing harshly into your side, and you completely take his breath away when you start riding his long cock.
His mouth falls open, and the kiss is no longer a kiss. It’s just you licking, sucking, and biting every inch of his mouth.
You feel the grip on your waist loosen, and he becomes limp, his fingers lifelessly resting on your thighs as you bounce up and down up and down.
The sound of your skin clapping against his, mixed with the obscene wet sounds between your conjoined bodies, makes his head spin.
His heart pounds wildly in his chest, his eyes glossy with pleasure as you fuck your cunt on his cock.
You leaned back eyes fluttering open and you stare into his love filled ones biting your lip and tilting your head to the side using every last ounce of energy to ride him. “I-“ he tried to speak, but nothing came to his mind. He was too overwhelmed with the feeling to form a coherent thought.
“Feels good, huh?” You say through a heavy breath as he nods frantically.
“Yes, so good, please, y/n,” he whimpers and presses his face to your chest, messily licking and sucking the flesh, the warmth of his tongue making your nipples grow hard. “Please, I’m so close, y/n you’re gonna make me cum”
“Okay, baby,” you kissed the top of his head, and the warmth he felt inside of him was nothing like nothing before the softness mixed with the pleasure was all it took for him to let go. “Fill me up, hee, make me yours.” You don’t even know what you’re saying, but right now, it feels right. “Only want you.”
“Me too,” he whines out, muscles tensing as he releases himself within your heat, filling you up just the way you wanted. “Mine all mine,” he grunts out every word with each rope of cum that stains your warm insides. “All fucking mine,” his words shoot straight to your core, your cunt clenching around him, milking his creamy seed until you are stuffed to the brim with white hot cum.
He starts thrusting up from below you, his balls smacking against your ass as he turns animalistic, his strength returning in full as his grip becomes tighter. The sudden change of sensation takes you by surprise, and he easily flips you over, getting on top of you, his left hand immediately clasping with yours beside your head. “Legs on me,” he groans softly as you obey his command.
He grips your thigh, hoisting it up high on his waist, his tip reaching the deepest part inside you. His thrusts are deep and precise as his thick tip drags against your gummy walls, stroking every last ridge and crevice, bringing you the utmost pleasure. “Uhh heeseung,” A shocked whimper escapes your swollen lips, your free hand clutching to his wide back, and your sounds make him absolutely feral. You swear you see stars as he pounds into you so fast and deep.
“I love you,” he breathed out while scanning your flushed face, his hand slipping between your bodies to finger your clit so you can both cum together this time. “I love you, y/n,” you moan at his confession as you stare into his eyes, your body slipping further up the bed while he gives it to you, and at the moment, you know you can’t resist uttering the words. “Say it back, please,” he whimpers out, his strokes becoming inconsistent the closer he gets. “Please,” he begs in a desperate voice, needing you to say the words back to him to confirm you feel the same way as he does.
“Love you too, hee so much.” You cup his cheek, his brows furrowed, and his eyes fill with tears as he buries his face in your neck, whimpering nonstop about how much you mean to him and how much he loves you. “I love you, I love you so much,” you confess in your moment of weakness, and you let go cumming around his cock your walls desperately clenching on him, begging to be filled up.
“I love you,” he confesses one last time before he cums. He squeezes your hand, groaning as he fills you with all of his love, his hips never wavering as he fucks not one but two loads of warm cum inside you, plugging up your pulsating hole with his thick base to ensure that nothing spills out.
He peppers your neck in kisses, moaning as you dig your nails into his back while the remainder of your high starts to fade away.
Heavy, exhausted breaths fill up the now silent but steamy bedroom, and you both lay there enjoying the last few faint pulses between your bodies before you even think about moving.
He props himself up on his elbow, staring down at your beautiful blissed-out face as he strokes your cheek with his thumb.
You look back and forth between his eyes, guilt slowly but surely filling your system. “Pull out”
“Why?” He whispered, confusion evident on his face. Without answering his question, you place your hands on his chest, gently pushing him back, and he doesn’t want to go against your will, so he very reluctantly pulls out of you, his cum streaming out of your hole like a river.
You quickly cover up with the sheets, hiding from him something you’ve never done after being intimate with him, which makes him even more confused.
Before he could even offer to clean you up, you were basically kicking him out. “Go”
“What do you mean go?” He asked.
“Just go, heeseung. This was a mistake, and we both know it.” his heart shatters at your words because how could this be happening? Just a minute ago, you were giving yourself to him, begging for him to make you his again, and the next, you’re just willing to kick him out and call making love to him a mistake?
“A mistake? So you regret it?” You could hear the hurt in his voice, and it made you feel even more guilty. “I don’t understand, y/n” his voice shakes slightly, and you know this was a bad idea from the fucking start. How could you let yourself get swept up by him again? He was supposed to be your ex, but here you are fucking him like you’re still both together, giving him mixed signals because even though your heart wanted him, your brain was telling you that he was no good for you.
“Heeseung, don’t,” you say, holding back your own tears. “You know this was never gonna work, and you kept coming back until I finally broke down and slept with you, but this does not mean we’re back together. When we broke up, I told you I’d never be getting back together with you.”
He gulps down the lump in his throat, staring at nothing in particular after taking his eyes off you.
He covers himself with his hands, the feeling of nakedness making its presence known. He stands up from the bed, wearing his underwear properly and buttoning up his shirt.
It’s silent except for the sounds of him rummaging through your room to find his pants. He puts them on, zipping them up, and he takes two steps to walk out of the bedroom before standing still. “So you said you love me. Was that a mistake, too?” You nod your head slowly, avoiding all eye contact with him, and he lets out a few chuckles before it turns into full-blown laughter.
You looked up at him, confused as to what he thought was so funny about this heartbreaking situation.
“I get it now.” his laugh settles, and he can’t believe he was stupid enough to even think this would work.
“Get what?” You questioned.
“I know what it is.” You look at him, puzzled, and wait for him to continue. “You’re nothing but a fucking slut” he says, and you whip your head in his direction, looking at him with pure shock. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s quite obvious you’re getting it from someone else.” he chuckles pathetically at himself. “You don’t need me no more 'cause you have been running around to all these parties and hooking up with random guys every night, right? You let them fuck you however they want, and you love it too, huh? Getting your slutty hole filled with a new guy every night?”
“Heeseung that’s not true and we both know it” you grit through your teeth trying not to show your emotions you can’t believe that’s really what he thought of you.
“Save it!” He shouts. “Tell me, do they do it better than I do? Is that why you left me in the first place? Cause I wasn’t doing it for you anymore, huh? Was I not big enough for you? what was it?” He interrogates.
“Heeseung, stop!” You shout back on the verge of tears.
“Why y/n? We both know you cheated cause I was never enough for you, but did you really have to do that to me? You know I still love you.” his voice cracks, and it breaks your heart when you hear his soft sniffles. You hated hearing him cry. It was the absolute worst. “Fuck I hate this so much,” he whispers to himself and swipes a hand over his face drying his tears. “But fuck it, I’ll just face it. I’ll never be enough for you. I’m pathetic. I haven’t even been with anyone since we broke up 'cause I’m still caught up on you, but you’re living the life you gave up on me a long time ago.”
You wish he’d stop doing this to himself. This is one of the many reasons why you had to break up with him in the first place. He never saw his worth and never thought you could see it, either. He never saw just how lovable he was and how easy it was to be yourself around him.
You never understood what made him so insecure in your guy's relationships. You never once thought about cheating when you were with him. You’d always go out of your way to make him feel loved, but it was just never enough.
Or maybe it was your fault. Maybe you gave him signs that you’d cheat, maybe you gave him signs that you didn’t love him.
But at this point, everything ruined your friendship, your trust, your relationship, your love.
But you tried cause even though everything was a mess, you still loved him, and though you couldn’t tell him that, you at least wanted to try and make him feel better about himself. “Heeseung, you are enough.”
“Yeah, right,” he scoffs.
“Heeseung, I know we’re over, but you deserve love, and I’m sorry I can’t give it to you,” you tell him, all while feeling completely helpless in this situation.
“Is that what you tell every guy you let inside you?” The room falls silent yet again, and you feel so weak and broken that you can’t even say anything back. If that’s what he wanted to believe about you, then fine, everything was over between you and him anyway.
He shook his head at you and walked out, slamming the door behind him, and you finally let the first of many tears fall.
As hurtful as it was, you’re glad that conversation happened, and now you just hope that he’ll leave you alone once and for all.
You just couldn’t handle him anymore because he was toxic.
#enhypen heeseung#enhypen#heeseung#heeseung smut#lee heeseung#enhypen heeseung smut#enha heeseung#lee heeseung smut#engene#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#heeseung angst#lee heeseung angst
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Busy Bee
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader
Summary: you may have accidentally fallen asleep on draco, but in your defense, he was really comfortable to sleep on! now, though, you're forced to face your feelings for him and do something about them
Word Count: 2.6k+
Masterlist
✰ ✰ ✰
“Blaise, move your big arse away from my comfy spot.”
You had a tiring day of classes, and wanted nothing more than to just relax for the rest of the night. You had gone back to the Slytherin common room to hopefully see some of your friends and just wind down for the night.
Everyone in Slytherin knew there was one special spot on the lounge couch that was reserved for you. You had spent countless hours and dozens of nights in that exact spot either studying or just hanging out with friends. That was your spot, and when you came into the common room, everyone knew to make way for it.
Blaise chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, (Y/N), didn’t realize you’d be back so early.”
“Early?” You exclaimed as you jumped into your spot. “I’ve been busting my butt all morning for these stupid exams. I’m exhausted.”
Pansy groaned from her spot on the floor. “Why don’t you just cut yourself a break once in a while? It’s no fun when my best friend is too busy for, like, anything anymore.”
You frowned. “I’m not too busy for you! I’m here now, aren’t I?” You grabbed a blanket from the stockpile you kept in the common room, and wrapped yourself tight in it.
Pansy rolled her eyes with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just in time to hear about the latest shit with Emma.”
Pansy had a wild grudge against this poor Hufflepuff girl who didn’t even know that Pansy was beefing with her. It was quite funny, honestly, but you loved Pansy enough to let her moan on about what annoying thing Emma does everyday.
“Oh goody.” Draco came out from the stairwell into the common room with a roll of his eyes. “Another go round of how insufferable you think that Hufflepuff is.”
He glanced over to see you cocooned in your blanket and let out a soft laugh. Draco took his seat next to you and laid his arm over the back of the couch behind you.
Draco intrigued you. Over the last year, the two of you had grown quite close. You considered Draco a good friend, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t wish it were more. Draco was kind. He was flirtatious and charming, but he was sweet and gentle with you as well. Sometimes you thought Draco may have feelings for you in return, but you were far too scared to confront him about it.
“Well, for starters, we already know how much of a know it all she is, but for some reason she has to showboat just how smart she is. You’d think she was a Ravenclaw what with how obsessed she is with being correct.” Pansy said.
Blaise started to respond to her squawking when Draco shifted closer to you. Blaise’s voice drifted away as you focused your attention to Draco.
“You alright, Dray?” You asked.
He smiled slightly. “Yeah, just trying to get comfortable. Salazar knows Pansy will be talking about this nonsense for hours.”
Draco dropped his arm from the back of the couch to wrap around your shoulder and pull you into him. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, silently hoping Draco couldn’t feel the intensity of it.
You tried to hide the grin threatening to break out on your lips as you snuggled closer to his chest. This was definitely a first for you guys. Though you and Draco had been quite flirty, he’d never been so open with his physical touch before.
“Then she had the nerve to choose me as her partner. Like I would ever consider her!” Pansy glanced over at you and did a double take when she saw you wrapped up in Draco. Her eyes grew slightly, but she averted them with a clear of her throat as to not make it obvious.
“And then, she had the audacity-“
“She really is quite obsessed with this hufflepuff, huh?” Draco whispered to you, quiet enough for Pansy not to hear.
You looked up at him. His face was so close to yours, your noses were practically touching. You bit your lip as a smile threatened your face.
“Yeah,” you whispered back as you stared into his eyes. “Leave her be though, it keeps her entertained.”
Draco chucked, his minty breath hitting your face due to your close proximity. Your own breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t realized just how close you were to him. You could feel your stomach doing cartwheels as you took in all of his glorious features up close. The glimmer in his eyes, the point of his nose, the curve of his lips.
“I didn’t see you earlier,” Draco shifted the conversation, pulling your gaze from his lips back to his eyes. “What were you doing all day, busy bee?”
You blushed at the nickname. “I was just in the library writing up essays and study guides for our finals.” You let out a yawn, the reminder of your morning making you realize just how exhausted you were.
“Sleepy?” Draco murmured in your ear.
You nodded your head with a mumbled ‘yes’, then rested your head on his shoulder. Draco wrapped his arm tight around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. With his other hand, he softly combed his fingers through your hair.
You hummed as you closed your eyes. “You’re comfy,” you sleepily mumbled.
Draco chuckled. His fingers brushed against your cheeks every once in a while as he gently continued combing through your hair.
As you felt yourself falling asleep, you could hear Draco shushing Pansy and Blaise to ensure they didn't wake you.
✰ ✰ ✰
The next morning you wake in your bed, unsure of how you got there. You must have gone up sometime in the night and just not remembered.
With a shrug, you stood up and stretched your arms over your head. Pansy was snoring in the bed next to you. You tiptoed over to her and gently shook her awake.
“Pansy,” you called as you shook her some more. “Come on, babe, time to wake up.”
She just grumbled and swatted your hand from her shoulder. You huffed. Pansy was terrible in the mornings, and for some reason unknown to you, she didn’t believe in alarm clocks so you got stuck waking her up every morning.
A mischievous idea came to mind, and with a smirk you jumped on top of her sleeping body.
“Ahh!” She shouted as you frantically shook her awake.
“It’s wake up time, Pans! We’ve got to get ready for our charms exam this fine, beautiful morning.” You said with a laugh.
Pansy sat up and pushed you off of her so you laid on the bed instead. “Geez,” she grinned as she rubbed at her sleepy eyes. “Who knew a night with Draco would make you so chipper this morning.”
You sat upright in crisscross as your smile fell. “Wait, what?”
You had spent the night with Draco? But that didn’t make sense, you woke up by yourself in your own bed. Plus, you would have remembered if something had happened between the two of you.
Pansy saw your confused expression and chuckled. She grabbed a pillow and gently swatted you in the face with it. “Not like that, you silly. Salazar knows if you slept with Draco you’d have probably died of happiness.”
“Hey!” You whined as a blush started creeping on your cheeks. “I’m not that crazy for him.”
“Oh, please,” Pansy scoffed with a slight smile. “I saw the way you cuddled up with him last night. I almost had a heart attack for you when I saw how close you were! Go (Y/N), go (Y/N)!” She cheered.
You laughed and pushed Pansy away from you. “Shut up!” Your giggles died down as you recalled how you laid with him last night. “Was it really that obvious?”
“Girl please! I thought Draco was gonna scoop you up and run away with you. You should have seen the look on his face when you fell asleep on him. He looked at you like you hung the damn stars in the sky.”
Your heart fluttered. You knew there was something going on with you and Draco, but by the way Pansy was talking, though she had a knack for exaggeration, it sounded like he really did have a thing for you.
“So, what do I do now?” You asked as you slightly rocked back and forth on her bed.
“Are you joking?” Pansy deadpanned at you. “(Y/N/N), you gotta go get your man! I’m tired of watching you two drool like little puppies over each other just for nothing to come out of it.”
Your cheeks flushed. It had been a long time of this back and forth with Draco, and you decided you were ready to see where it got you.
“Okay, I’m gonna tell him next time I see him.” You said.
Pansy cheered. “Yes, finally! Now hurry up, I’ll help you pick a cute outfit that has ‘date me’ written all over it.”
You chuckled as Pansy eagerly jumped up and ran to your closet. She grabbed your shortest skirt, a white button up top, and your Slytherin robes.
“Pans, how is this any different than my usual outfit?” You asked as you stood from the bed and joined her near the closet.
“Ah, my sweet (Y/N), it’s not about the clothes you wear, but how you wear them.” She grinned as she threw the clothes into your hands. “Put them on so I can work my magic.”
You chuckled and stripped out of your pajamas to put on your school outfit. Turning back to Pansy, you said, “Okay, now what?”
She devilishly grinned. Pansy pulled your skirt even higher up your legs to expose just a bit more of the skin there. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt and fixed your boobs so they popped out a little bit more. She wrapped the robe around your shoulders, but let the front open so you could see everything underneath.
“And no tie,” she added, “that way your shirt can stay that way.”
You chuckled. “You get me into all these crazy shenanigans, you know that right?”
“You know you love me.”
“Yeah,” you added wearily, “but what if it’s too much? I mean, we still have to go to class. It’s not like I'm only going to see Draco.”
“Who cares?” Pansy asked as she started to dress herself in a similar manner. “Let the other boys stare and show Draco that you’re a hottie who other boys can get at if he decides he’s gonna be a wuss today.”
You laughed. Pansy always knew just how to make you feel better. “Alright, let’s get out there, then. Don’t wanna keep all the boys waiting.” You winked at her.
Pansy smirked and wrapped her arm with yours. You walked out together and down to your first class that you shared.
Luckily for you, Draco did not share the same period for charms as you. You thought if Draco was in the class you would have surely failed your final.
You felt pretty confident in your answers, and soon enough class was dismissed.
Your heart beat out of your chest as you said your goodbyes to Pansy and walked to your next class: one you shared with Draco.
Nervously, you picked at your clothes as you walked to potions. On your way there, you couldn’t help but notice all of the random students staring at you. Boys, and girls, sneaked peaks at you as you walked past them.
It felt nice to be noticed, you just hoped Draco would react in a similar way.
Speak of the devil.
There Draco stood in all his glory. He leaned against the wall outside of the potions room looking you up and down. Draco’s lip was trapped between his teeth and he sized you up.
“Bloody hell, (Y/N).” Draco mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear over your rapidly-beating heart.
Draco pushed himself off the wall and started walking towards you, meeting you halfway. He didn’t say anything. All he could do was stare. Draco knew you were gorgeous; he’d be a bloody fool to not have noticed it before, but there was something about the way you looked that made his head spin.
While he shouldn’t say it, Draco had always imagined how you would look after he’d had his way with you. He didn’t ever want to seem like a creep, you were too sweet for that, but that just made him more curious.
In all honesty, he didn’t know you had this in you.
“Uh, Draco?” You asked. Draco had zoned out as he stared at you. You could feel your cheeks getting warm and you took in how awestruck he looked.
“Hm?” He glanced back up into your eyes. “Sorry, sweetheart, you just- you just look incredible. Well, you look gorgeous everyday, just you look gorgeous and sexy if that makes sense.”
You raised an eyebrow almost teasingly. “Oh, so you think I look sexy now, huh?” You don’t know where this newfound confidence came from, but you liked the way Draco’s eyes widened as you crossed your arms over your chest, pushing your boobs out ever so slightly.
Once he recovered, a smirk adorned his handsome face. “I always think you look sexy, now I'm just seeing it in person rather than my dreams. And speaking of dreams,” Draco grinned devilishly, “how did you sleep last night, darling?”
You had almost forgotten about the confusion of the night. “I slept well. I think.” You chuckled as you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “I don’t exactly remember getting to bed, though. Care to enlighten me?”
Draco chuckled, “You fell asleep, quite adorably I might add, and I as the gentleman I am had the privilege of carrying you up the stairs and tucking you in for the night.”
You smiled, “how come you didn’t just wake me?”
Draco’s cheeks tinged pink. “I, uh, I just knew how tired you were from your morning and I didn’t want to disturb you. Hope that was okay.” Draco rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly.
You grinned and reached up to squeeze his arm. “It was really sweet of you, Draco.”
The two of you stared at each other for a minute, the silence held some tension, it had some longing imbedded into it.
“Draco…”
“Do you want to go out sometime?” Draco cut you off.
You gaped at him. “Like a date?”
Draco smiled, “yeah, exactly a date. I knew I’ve liked you for a little while, (Y/N), but when you cuddled up against me last night, I had this thought that I wanted to do it again. And then again after that too. You held onto like you needed me, and, uh, I really liked that.”
Draco blushed a little at his confession and shuffled his feet around nervously.
You couldn’t help but grin and wrap your arms tight around his neck. Draco was a little taken aback by your quick movement, but surely sunk into your hug and wrapped his arms around your waist.
“I’d love to go out with you, Dray,” you whispered as you were pressed so close to him. “I’ve been hoping you would ask me out for a long time.”
Draco pulled away, but still held his hands on your waist. “Sorry for keeping you waiting so long, darling.”
You giggled and grabbed Draco’s hands to pull him towards the classroom. “Come on, Slughorn doesn’t wait for anyone and I need to do good on this exam.”
Draco chuckled and let you pull him along to class. He couldn’t wait to finally take you out on a date.
#draco malfoy oneshot#draco malfoy one shot#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy#harry potter#harry potter x reader#draco malfoy x slytherin!reader#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x y/n#ron weasly x reader#ron weasley#cedric diggory#cedric diggory x reader#fred weasly x reader#george weasley
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Fall Into Me - Chapter Six: And I Knew My Heart Wasn't Mine
dbf!Joel x f!reader
Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.
Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.
Word Count: 3.8k
Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling in love. Finally some smut-ish stuff. Dry humping on the couch. Joel is his own warning. Tommy keeping it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad.
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
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Chapter Five | Main Masterlist
Sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning, you reviewed an email on your phone from the Texas Education Agency. Relief washed over you. The State Board finally approved your certification after jumping through a million hoops, just in time for your upcoming meeting at Sarah’s school.
Yet another step closer to finally feeling like an actual adult contributing to society.
“Morning, Spud,” your dad greeted as he walked into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee. “You’re up early. Did you have fun with Sarah yesterday?”
“I figured I’d seize the day and all that. I had a blast yesterday! Sarah is so smart, and Joel was really nice, as always,” you replied, playing down quite how much of a roll Joel had in making the day so enjoyable. You still couldn’t believe how things worked out.
Joel Miller, dead sexy single father, liked you, wanted to be with you. Little morsels of doubt tried to weasel their way into your mind, trying to make you question what was so special about you that a man like Joel would be interested in. You shook those thoughts away, resolving to believe that you deserved someone like him, someone who liked you for who you were and not who they wanted you to be.
“He comes from good stock, that Joel,” your dad interrupted you’re wandering thoughts. “Not sure what happened with Tommy, though. Musta been dropped on his head as a baby or somethin’.”
“Dad!” you laughed, shaking your head. “There’s nothing wrong with the guy. He’s young, single, and unburdened by responsibility. I imagine you were like that once upon a time.”
“Musta been so long ago I can’t remember,” he replied, hip checking you into the counter when you stood to place your glass in the sink. “Watch yourself there, Spud.”
“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” you replied with an amused eye roll. Your dad watched as you tidied up your little mess from breakfast and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
“You know, Spud. You’d do well to find a man like Joel. He’s a really good guy. Shame he doesn’t date. All the women go crazy over him.”
Your dad kept going on about Joel’s aversion to dating, but your mind froze on that one simple statement – you’d do well to find a man like Joel. You tuned back in just in time to hear him say, “He needs to settle down with a girl like you. Someone smart and responsible who’ll still give him a run for his money.”
Practically bursting with the urge to admit that you and Joel just officially started seeing each other, you curled your lips between your teeth and just nodded. You promised Joel you’d wait a bit before mentioning anything to your dad and you planned on keeping that promise. “He should be so lucky to find someone like me,” you sassed finally.
The day carried on as you spent some quality time with your dad watching TV and lounging around. It was refreshing and relaxing, reminding you of times past where the two of you spent a bunch of time together.
The urge to text you plagued Joel all day Sunday, distracting his attention from the football game until Tommy finally snatched the phone out of his hands and hid it.
“Enough, brother. You’re like a lovesick fool checking your phone every five fuckin’ seconds. You just spent the day together yesterday. Give her a little breathin’ room,” Tommy chastised. “Women like a little mystery after all.”
Flopping back into the couch cushions with a huff, Joel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to play games with her, Tommy. None of that aloof, hard to get bullshit.”
Shaking his head, Tommy waited until a commercial break to turn to his brother again. “I’m not sayin’ to play games. I’m just sayin’ you don’t need to be up her ass 24/7. You’ll see her every day this week. It’s ok to build up a little healthy anticipation today.”
Joel knew his brother had a point. He just couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since he felt like this about someone – if he ever really did before – and it was messing with his head. Berating himself for not even kissing you yesterday, Joel wanted to at least text with you today. It felt somehow wrong to not talk to you.
Then again, you hadn’t texted him either.
Tommy made a valiant effort to distract Joel from his thoughts, talking statistics about the game and the players, anything to get the guy talking. It only worked for so long before Tommy couldn’t take it anymore.
“Alright, how ‘bout this. I’ll take Sarah for a dinner and ice cream date tomorrow so you two can spend some time alone. Get a little action in and maybe that’ll help you get your head out of the clouds.”
For the first time in hours, Joel’s face lit up. “You sure?”
“I wouldn’t offer otherwise,” Tommy replied. “You two need to figure out if there’s something there and you can’t do that with a ten-year-old hanging around all the time. Not unless you want to scar her for life.”
Joel nodded, reaching out to take his phone back. Before letting go of it, Tommy grinned. “I already texted her for you. You’re welcome.”
Ripping his phone out of his brother’s hand, Joel scrolled through his text messages to find what Tommy sent you.
JM: Hey sweetheart. Netflix and chill tomorrow?
He only knew what that meant because of Tommy and you had to know that wasn’t something Joel would say. “Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy!” Joel growled, his ears turning red from what you must think. He was about to really lay into his brother for overstepping when you responded.
You: Netflix and chill, huh? Sounds like my kinda date 😉
Not expecting that response, Joel chuckled. Maybe Tommy knew exactly what he was doing after all.
“Like I said, you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he saw the goofy smile on his brother’s face.
Joel ignored him, proceeding to ask you about your day. The two of you texted back and forth well into the night until it was time for bed.
Climbing between the cold sheets of his large, empty bed, Joel wished you were there with him. He could already imagine you there, falling asleep together after a romp or two, waking up next to you in the morning. It sounded like heaven to him.
Hmm, maybe he could Netflix and chill his way to convincing you to spend the night tomorrow.
You didn’t know what to expect when you walked into Joel’s house Monday morning, but it certainly wasn’t a flustered Joel, knelt on the floor, staring down at a mess of pancake mix surrounding him and Sarah giggling her little heart out at the breakfast table.
“What happened here?” you asked, hands on your hips and eyes surveying the damage. “Did you have a fight with the boxed pancake mix.”
“He really did!” Sarah exclaimed, still laughing. “It went everywhere!”
“I see that,” you replied, grinning at her before turning back to Joel.
He stared up at you with wide, sad eyes and shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t get it open and then it just…” His arms spread wide, gesturing at the powdery mess on the tile in such an endearing way. You couldn’t stop your smile from growing wider.
“Go finish getting ready for work. I’ll get Sarah some cereal and clean this mess up,” you directed, gently pulling him to his feet and around the mess.
“You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess, sweetheart,” Joel replied, pulling you in for a hug. You could tell the warm press of your bodies together made him feel better and you basked in it as well, not minding the bit of pancake mix that transferred to your clothes.
“Don’t worry, I got it. Now git!” One hand swatted at his ass playfully as he rushed out of the room. “Now, what kind of cereal do you want, nugget?”
Fifteen minutes later, Joel returned to find the mess gone and you running a mop over the tile to wipe away any last remnants of the pancake mix disaster. Sarah already finished her cereal and was upstairs brushing her teeth before it was time to head to school. When you put the mop back into the bucket, Joel crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you close until your back was flush against his chest.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed in your ear, sending a flood of goosebumps down your arms. Joel pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear and left a trail of kisses down your neck. The feel of his lips on your skin exceeded any expectations you had, and a contented sigh left your own lips.
With a hurried tenderness, he spun you around in his arms, the mop forgotten as it nearly fell out of the bucket. Faces close together now, your eyes drank in every detail of him from the richness of his dark brown eyes, the curve of his nose, the purposeful stubble of his beard, and, finally, to the fullness of his bottom lip. You could feel his eyes doing the same, drinking in every bit of your face before tilting his head impossibly closer.
“I’m going to kiss you now, ok?” Joel murmured; lips nearly pressed to yours already and you hummed in approval.
After all the weeks of mutual pining and self-doubt, Joel finally kissed you. It started as a soft press of lips and quickly morphed into an overwhelming need to devour each other when his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, begging entry to deepen the kiss. Teeth knocked together and tongues tangled as you tasted each other – somehow, the taste of coffee was suddenly appealing when it came from Joel’s mouth.
Hands wandered – his over your curves and yours into his luscious, dark curls. Joel’s hair felt as silky as it looked, and you had been itching to get your fingers in it from the moment you met him.
The sound of Sarah’s footsteps bouncing down the stairs broke the two of you apart, breathless, and dazed.
“Wow,” Joel murmured, struggling to remove his hands from your waist.
You smiled up at him, equally unwilling to remove your fingers from his hair. “Exactly,” you whispered, stepping back with your hands at your side just as Sarah entered the kitchen.
“I’m ready!” she declared excitedly and you both grinned at her cuteness.
“Okay, nugget. Let’s head out.”
Heart melting in your chest, you watched Joel and Sarah do their morning routine of saying goodbye. The love between the two of them was so strong it was like a tangible thing you could hold in your hands. Nostalgia washed over you as memories of your own childhood, moments like this with your dad, flooded your mind. What you had with your dad, what Joel and Sarah had together, was a connection that would never fade, only grow stronger with time.
Briefly, you wondered if your evolving relationship with Joel would affect that connection, interfere with it in anyway. You couldn’t move forward with him if that was the case. Some woman showing up and changing the dynamic between you and your dad would have upset you as a child and you refused to be the cause of any upset Sarah felt.
When the two of them stepped back from their hug and grinned at you, any question about your place in their dynamic washed down the drain. You felt nearly dizzy with relief when Sarah quickly said, “Give her a hug, too, Daddy,” and shoved him as hard as she could in your direction.
With a chuckle, Joel gave in to Sarah’s demand, wrapping his arms around you. The broadness of him surrounded you, enveloping you in warmth and a sense of security you’d not experienced before. Was that what love felt like?
“Have a good day, darlin’. I’ll see you later,” Joel’s deep voice was but a whisper in your ear, his lips just grazing your earlobe. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”
Warmth raced up your neck to your cheeks and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation of what you hoped would happen later. “You have a good day too, Joel. Be careful, ok?”
“Always, darlin’.” He winked as you led Sarah out the front door to your car.
The journey to Sarah’s school started off quietly, Sarah bopping along to the music on the radio as you navigated the morning traffic. Your thoughts wandered to what you should wear later when Sarah startled you with a sudden question.
“Are you my dad’s girlfriend now?”
She asked the question so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure how to respond. Would she be upset with whatever answer you gave? Was there even a right or wrong answer? What did she want to hear? Mind racing, you settled on asking Sarah a question in return.
“Would you be upset if I was?”
Tilting her head side to side a few times, the little girl contemplated her answer while you held your breath. She turned to you with a smile so big it scrunched up her nose. “Nope! It’d make me really happy.”
“Really?” Your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline.
“Uh huh. You’re the coolest and prettiest. My dad would be lucky if you were his girlfriend,” Sarah admitted with all the confidence and knowledge of a ten-year-old. Another head tilt and she added, “So, are you?”
Equal parts amazed and grateful for Sarah’s acceptance of the idea, you opted for honesty. “I mean, I don’t know,” you shrugged. How could you explain what you had to a 10-year-old? “We haven’t talked about naming it yet, but we did decide to see how we like being together. Does that make sense?”
Sarah gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah, I think so. It’s kinda like how you’re a teacher, but not officially until you get the job, right?”
You laughed at the comparison with a nod. “Exactly. I’m as good as your dad’s girlfriend, we just haven’t made titles official yet.” You pulled up in front of the school and it was Sarah’s turn to get out. “Now get going, nugget. Have a good day!”
The little girl bounced out of the car, calling out to one of her friends. Just before you pulled away, you heard Sarah tell the other girl that you were her dad’s not-yet girlfriend.
The day absolutely dragged. Joel could swear that time went backwards every time he looked at a clock. It didn’t help that every single subcontractor gave him a hard time about something today.
The roof trusses arrived six weeks early and the sub refused to take them back even though the damn things would rot before they got to the roofing phase of construction. The company he rented the extra backhoe from wanted to raise their rates in the middle of his contract. The list went on and Joel ran out of patience three hours ago.
The only thing holding him together was the thought of you. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Touching you. Burying himself inside you… He adjusted himself with a sigh. Damn, he needed to put those particular thoughts on ice before he got himself riled up. The workday was shitty enough, he didn’t need the guys giving him a hard time about an untimely chub in his pants.
Finally, Joel had enough of everyone’s bullshit and called it a day, leaving his foreman in charge of the worksite.
“Off to doll yourself up, are ya?” Tommy teased as Joel headed for his truck. Gesturing in the general direction of Joel’s crotch, he added, “You remember how to use that thing? Make sure to clear out the cobwebs and use protection!”
“Jesus, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, climbing into his truck, and driving off. He knew his brother was only teasing, but Joel was nervous enough as it was. He didn’t need Tommy getting in his head. He did have a point about protection, though.
A quick stop at the convenience store to grab a box of condoms, Joel made it home before you and Sarah. Putting on some 90s rock, he jumped in the shower, putting in the extra effort to tidy himself up down there. He wondered if you preferred pubic hair or not. Fearing he was getting way ahead of himself, Joel opted to just trim his down and hoped for the best.
By the time he finished trimming his facial hair and tousling his curls, you and Sarah were downstairs, working on her homework. As he walked down the stairs, Joel could hear you encouraging his daughter to think the questions through and congratulating her when she got the answers right. His heart grew three sizes watching how you were with Sarah. You held his whole world in the palm of your hand and treasured it like the precious cargo it was.
Joel was falling so hard for you. You were quickly gaining the power to destroy him.
“Hi Daddy!” Sarah called out when she spotted him in the doorway. “We just finished my math homework. Can I play in the backyard?”
He set up a tire swing on the large live oak out back a week ago and it quickly became his little girl’s happy place. “Of course, nugget. Come give your old man a hug first.” Bending down, Joel swept Sarah up in his arms, biceps stretching his shirt sleeves as he swung her around in a circle. Sarah’s laughter echoed through the room, and you smiled sweetly at the pair of them.
“Uncle Tommy’s coming to take you out for dinner and ice cream in a bit. Ok?” Sarah nodded when he settled her back on her feet and raced for the sliding door. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Joel turned to you. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and velvety.
Your body followed his command without conscious thought, so great the need to be in his arms. “I thought about you all day,” you admitted, staring up at him with wide eyes.
“Me, too. Could hardly focus on the job thinking about you and spending this evening together.” He tightened his arms around you, head bending to seal his lips to yours. When your lips parted at his prompting, Joel teased your plush bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s like a tasty little gummy worm,” he teased. “I could nibble on it all day.”
You moaned into his mouth, the little breathless sound music to his ears.
The kiss deepened until you were licking into each other’s mouths, hands wandering and grasping for purchase on any piece of real estate you could reach. Neither of you heard the front door open or the footsteps approaching the kitchen.
“Am I interrupting somethin’?” he asked cheekily as the two of you sprang apart, disheveled and gasping for breath.
Joel ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself. “Excellent timing as always, brother.”
“Y’all just couldn’t wait five more minutes, could ya?” Tommy’s grin a mile wide as he teased. “Lemme get the nugget out of here before you two scar her for life.”
You tucked your face into Joel’s shoulder bashfully when Tommy slipped through the sliding door. Joel groaned and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t mind him, darlin’. He just likes to bust my balls.”
Ten minutes later, after some hugs from Sarah and more teasing from Tommy, you and Joel were alone. Taking your hand, he led you to the couch. He hoped you didn’t notice that his rough palms were sweaty with nerves. You were abnormally quiet, and he wondered if you were nervous as well.
Seated a few inches apart, the tension became too much. “What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, breaking the silence as he pulled up Netflix on the TV. He barely logged into his account when you suddenly straddled his lap.
“Hi,” you said when he stared at you in surprise. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”
“What?” He barely got his mouth to form the word, his brain short circuiting with you in his lap. His grip on the remote loosened, yet neither of you cared when it fell to the ground.
“You.”
There was a moment where you both froze, each waiting for the other to act first. Then the tension snapped, and Joel’s lips crashed against yours. His tongue danced along the seam of your lips until you opened them to let him in. Tongues tangled in a never-ending dance as your hips tilted, grinding down on him. Joel was uncomfortably hard in moments, pressing up against your warmth.
His hands were everywhere, fingers tenderly tracing the structure of your cheekbones, down the curve of your neck, along the swell of your breasts. They finally settled, grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you impossibly closer. You moaned into his mouth, hips bucking in search of more friction.
Gasping for breath, Joel tore his mouth from yours, his hands urging your hips into a rhythm as you dry humped him. His mouth left a trail of scorching kisses down your neck, eliciting a wave of goosebumps to flow down your arms. Your hips rocked, gliding across his hardened length and Joel swore he could feel your wetness breaching through the layer of clothes separating you.
Fuck, how he wanted to taste you, get high on your sweet nectar. He knew, just knew in that primal way, that yours would be the best pussy he ever tasted. His cock swelled impossibly harder at the mere thought of burying his face between your legs.
“Jooooeeelllll.” His name coming from your luscious lips in a drawn-out moan caused his own hips to buck up into you, hitting just the right spot to make you both see stars from the friction alone. His mouth sucked little marks into your neck, leaving his left ear exposed to your mouth as crooned, “I’m gonna come, fuck. You’re gonna make me come in my panties, Joel.”
“Fuck, darlin’. Come all over me, pretty girl. I want to see you fall apart from grinding on me like this. Drench those panties.” Joel sat back a little, just enough to watch your face as your orgasm swept over you. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, eyes rolled back in your head, mouth hanging open in a silent ‘o’ as you trembled above him, delicate hands clenching the meat of his shoulders for balance. A little sheen of sweat dusted your hairline. Fucking beautiful.
Joel was absolutely certain he could feel you drenching his pants as you came, your breath finally coming back in a sharp exhale. He had never been so turned on in his life. Watching you come apart for him, feeling it seep through the layers of clothing became too much. For the first time in his adult life, Joel Miller came in his pants with a desperate whimper.
tbc
Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981 @marirxse
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel x female reader#the last of us#tlou#dbf!joel#Fall Into Me#pedro pascal#eventual smut#mutual pining#idiots falling for each other
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When everything settles down after Vecnapocalypse, Steve gets a call from the athletic director at Hawkins High School, and a day later, he accepts a part-time position as the assistant coach of the Hawkins High varsity basketball team.
Lucas is obviously stoked, and the other kids concede (after a few minutes of bemoaning Steve's return to the Dark Side) that it's a perfect job for him. Robin screeches with delight, and Nancy tells him she's proud of him, and Jonathan thumps him on the back with a quiet, "Congrats, man," and Eddie?
Well, Eddie just rolls his eyes and makes a joke about the Return of the King that goes right over Steve's head (but has the kids and, wouldn't ya know it, Nancy, grinning) and doesn't say much else.
It's probably stupid, but Eddie has actually (horrifyingly) grown to like hanging out with Steve. Sure, he knows next to nothing about D&D or Lord of the Rings or metal music, but that doesn't seem to matter all that much. He still listens to Eddie rant about all of those aforementioned interests and does his best to understand, even if he doesn't particularly care about the content of Eddie's latest campaign. He lets Eddie play Dio and Metallica and Black Sabbath for him, and even though Eddie can tell he's not really into most of their music, at the end of his "Musication" he gives Eddie a list of the songs he actually liked, so they have some stuff to listen to when they hang out that won't make one of them want to puncture their own eardrums.
He even looks genuinely apologetic (and, dare Eddie say, disappointed?) when he tells Eddie that it's not that he doesn't want to read Lord of the Rings. It's just that he can't, because reading is really fucking hard when the letters won't stop jumping all over the damn place.
The point is: Eddie likes Steve. He likes Steve's sarcastic quips and his attentiveness, and his hilarious but well-meaning and frighteningly successful mothering of the teenagers they apparently co-parent. Eddie likes Steve, and he likes being his friend, and he's afraid that this stupid Assistant Coach job will end up dragging Steve headfirst back into his King Steve days, and Steve will forget all about being friends with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.
It's so, so stupid, because while Eddie likes Steve, he also knows Steve, and he knows that Steve isn't the guy who used to hang around the Tommy Hagans of the world anymore. But the fear is there, and it's still there by the time the school year starts and Steve starts getting busy "prepping" for his new job, which... what? The basketball season doesn't start until January, so what the hell kind of prep would Steve be starting in August?
Eddie wonders, but he doesn't ask. He just anxiously waits to see if Steve will eventually decide to ditch him, and he continues to be quietly delighted when Steve always, always makes time for the two of them to hang out.
The thought of Steve going back into jock-mode still makes him kinda sick, but he'll never tell Steve that. Steve is way too excited for the start of the basketball season, and Eddie is gonna support him the same way Steve supports Eddie at his Corroded Coffin concerts: with begrudging interest and genuine pride, so help him God.
It goes on like this until one day, Eddie's begrudging interest suddenly becomes a little more genuine, when he accidentally stumbles upon what Steve meant for the last three months whenever he said he was "prepping for the season."
He's got plans to hang out with Steve that afternoon, pulling up in his van fifteen minutes late because time management has never been one of his strong suits. Only, when he gets to Casa Harrington, he notices something strange. The garage is open.
The thing is, Steve always parks the Beemer in the driveway. He never uses the garage. Actually, Eddie didn't even realize Steve had a garage at all, until now, but he hears some clanging coming from inside and goes to investigate. He walks past the Beemer (parked in the driveway where it always is) and peers inside, expecting to maybe find Steve... repairing something? Reorganizing? Honestly, he has no clue what he thinks he'll find in there.
What he definitely doesn't expect to find is Steve Harrington in the middle of what appears to be a pretty fucking intense workout – hair and tank top damp with sweat, wearing frankly indecently short shorts, and breathing steadily as he does fucking pull-ups on the bar in his garage, which has apparently been converted into a whole goddamn home gym.
Eddie stops in his tracks and stares, affording himself a moment or two to have a teeny, tiny (enormous) crisis over it.
Steve hasn't noticed him yet, and Eddie can't tear his stupid eyes away from the way Steve's arms tremble from the exertion as he pulls himself up, face pinched into a concentrated frown. Eddie can see him gritting his teeth, can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining a little bit. Even worse, every time Steve lowers himself down, his stupid tank top rides up just enough to expose the (not at all soft, apparently) plains of his stomach, glistening with sweat, and God, Eddie wants to lick Steve fucking Harrington's abs like a-
Oh, no.
Oh, fuck no.
Oh, Jesus H. Christ, fucking shit, NO.
Listen... It's not like Eddie hasn't already known for years that he's gay. He's been fully aware of that since middle school. It's the reason his dad kicked him out and sent him to live with Wayne, for fuck's sake. It's just that Eddie has put a lot of effort into pretending his thoughts about Steve Harrington were totally, completely, 100% platonic up until this point, and now he can feel all of that hard work going down the metaphorical drain.
He stands there, stock still with his jaw hinged open, and stares while his brain melts out of his ears and his thoughts begin to race. God, those fucking arms. Eddie's not weak, but he's definitely weaker than Steve, which means Steve could definitely pin Eddie down if he wanted to. In a bed. Against the wall. On the hood of a car. Fuck, on the goddamn floor – Eddie's not picky! All he knows is that he wants Steve to leave the workout for later so Eddie can lick the sweat off of him, which... gross. But also hot. But also-
"Eddie?"
Oh, fuck. How does one talk to the sun?
Steve has noticed him standing there, obviously, which sort of makes Eddie wonder how long he's been staring. Time stopped in Eddie's world the moment a sweaty Steve Harrington entered his field of vision, so he truly has no idea how bad his staring got.
Christ, this is going to be so bad.
So, so bad.
"Eds?" Steve says, his face pinching into a frown. "You okay?"
Oh my god, you moron, say something! Eddie's brain screams at him.
"What?" Smooth. "Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Just, y'know, like, lost in thought, or whatever. Plotting my next demonic attempt at world domination. The usual."
Steve looks at him like he's grown a second head, which... is fair. But Eddie's fumbling attempt at speech is at least embarrassing enough to take precedence over the cacophonous sound of whatever Ode to Abs his mind was attempting to compose, and Eddie feels like he can think a little more clearly.
"Ah, fuck," Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs and looks at Steve apologetically. "I'm sorry, dude. I swear I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."
Steve cocks his head to the side like a particularly inquisitive puppy, and oh God, it's adorable. Eddie loathes how adorable it is. "Good weird?" Steve asks. "Or bad weird?"
Eddie ponders his answer for a moment, then replies with, "Weird weird."
That's enough to startle a laugh out of Steve, who shakes his head and wraps a towel around his neck. "Fair enough, man. Sorry about all of this, by the way." He gestures vaguely towards the home gym in his garage and shrugs sheepishly. "I was gonna be done before you got here but I sorta... lost track of time, I guess." He's got an unreadable look on his stupidly beautiful face, and Eddie doesn't like that at all. He doesn't like that one bit.
But he decides not to overthink it and brushes Steve's apology off with a wave of his hand. "It's whatever, dude. Might wanna shower, though." The ‘otherwise I might take it upon my gay little self to lick you clean’ is left blessedly unsaid.
Steve laughs again, and just like that, things start to feel a bit less earth-shattering. They banter for a bit longer, then Steve really does go to take a quick shower, and they spend the rest of the night lying on the floor of Steve's living room, listening to the metal mix tape they made together and bitching about their brood of teenagers.
Weirdly, though, after that day, Steve seems to be working out a lot more frequently. As in almost every single time he and Eddie have plans. Day after day, Eddie is treated to the sight of Steve Harrington looking like a goddamn Greek god, and day after day, Steve catches his eye and smiles before abandoning his equipment and acting like Eddie's world hasn't been completely turned on its head.
It's starting to drive him kind of insane, honestly, and his pining has gotten so bad that even Gareth and Jeff know.
"He's just so pretty!" Eddie whines for what feels like the thousandth time.
His band mates simply exchange a long-suffering look and let him ramble.
It all comes to a head in November, just before Thanksgiving, when Eddie shows up and once again finds Steve finishing a workout. Just like always, Steve shoots him a good-natured grin and greets him before heading inside for a quick shower, and just like always, Eddie waits downstairs.
NOT like always, however, this time Steve comes jogging down the stairs with wet hair, wearing a pair of joggers and... absolutely nothing else.
It's been a long time since Eddie last saw Steve without a shirt on (since the day at Lover's Lake when they found watergate, to be precise), and suddenly Eddie is remembering why he'd immediately pulled out a cigarette to calm down that day. Only this time it's even worse, because Steve has really been putting effort into these workouts, and it shows.
His chest is toned and covered in coarse hair that Eddie kind of wants to tug on, just to see what sort of sounds Steve would make if he did. He's got the makings of an honest-to-God six pack just barely visible on his abdomen, partially obscured by scars Eddie recognizes from looking at his own in the mirror. Steve's are slightly smaller and not as deep, but they clearly came from the same sets of tiny jaws, and Eddie finds them weirdly comforting, these matching scars that they share. Steve's look pale in contrast against his skin, and God, Eddie just wants to kiss them. He wants to worship them and every other inch of the man who bears them.
The man who definitely just said something Eddie didn't hear because he was too busy trying not to pass out from mere proximity to something so beautiful.
"Sorry, what?" Eddie asks, shaking his head violently in an attempt to dispel his traitorous thoughts.
Steve smirks, but Eddie can see the soft fondness in his eyes when he cocks his head to the side and repeats the words Eddie missed the first time. "I asked if you see something you like, Munson," Steve teases, one hand carding wet hair out of his face, and Eddie just blinks at him.
Play it off, play it off, play it off, his brain supplies helpfully. He can totally play this off. Dudes stare at their friends’ chests all the time, right?
"What?" he practically squeaks. "I- well... no, wait, um... ah, fuck."
So much for plausible deniability.
He's just beginning to feel vaguely panicky when Steve seems to catch on, and he's right in front of Eddie in an instant, concerned, hazel eyes gazing down at Eddie's grimacing face.
"Hey," Steve says, reaching out like he wants to touch Eddie but thinks better of it. "It's okay, man. You're okay. I'm just messing with you."
The impact of his words is instant, and Eddie can feel his face heating up. Of course Steve was joking. God, Eddie is such an idiot.
"Right," Eddie says, voice strained. He rubs his face with both hands, shaking his head lightly. "Duh. Obviously you were teasing." His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, and he's got a weird feeling of anticipation in his stomach that tells him that he's already shown too many of his cards.
"I mean, yeah..." Steve says, seeming nervous for the first time since Eddie got here. His hands flit from the back of his neck to his hair to his waist, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Teasing is, like, flirting 101, so..."
Eddie freezes.
"Oh my God, wait..." he says slowly, finally daring to meet Steve's confused eyes. "Flirting?"
Steve looks utterly perplexed now, and he does that thing where he cocks his head to the side in confusion.
It's still adorable. Fuck, why is it so adorable?
"Um... yes?" He studies Eddie, seems to register the shock on his face, and then matches it with shock of his own. "Wait, you didn't know? I thought you knew!"
"I most certainly did not!" Eddie counters, feeling a bit like he's having an out-of-body experience.
"Oh my God," Steve says. "Oh my God, Eddie, I've been flirting with you for, like, months!"
"Months?!" Eddie's voice has officially reached the stratosphere.
"Yes!" Steve yelps. He looks torn between laughing and crying, though Eddie thinks it'll be mildly hilarious no matter what choice he makes. "Jesus, dude, I winked at you while I was doing pull-ups last week! What did you think that was?"
"A hallucination!" Eddie says immediately. "You're straight, Harrington!"
At that, Steve snorts, then shakes his head.
Eddie's pretty sure his brain is melting by now.
"Yeah, um, no," Steve says firmly. "I'm definitely not straight."
"You... I... What? Since when?"
"Well..." Steve begins, briefly glancing away. "Since forever, technically. Probably. But officially, since that time I made out with Tommy H. after we got wasted at a party sophomore year. And if that wasn't enough proof, I think the amount of time I’ve spent staring at your ass lately definitely is."
Eddie stares at him. "Am I dead?" he asks dumbly. "Is this Heaven? Am I having a fucking stroke?"
Steve's laughter is bright when it rings through his living room, and Eddie is grateful when Steve carefully raises a hand to cup his cheek, because the soft touch is grounding in the best way.
"Definitely not dead, Eds," Steve says. "And shit, I hope you're not having a stroke. How many fingers am I holding up?"
Eddie just blinks at him, because Steve has one hand on Eddie's cheek and the other on Eddie's arm, and he's definitely not holding up any fingers. "Zero, Harrington, what the fuck?" he says weakly.
Steve laughs – no, scratch that, he giggles. He fucking giggles.
If Eddie isn't dead yet, he's about to be.
"Good. See?" Steve says. "Not having a stroke."
"I don't think that's how strokes work, dude," Eddie says weakly.
"No?" Steve asks, though he's still smiling, and he looks wholly unbothered by Eddie's doubting of his medical prowess.
Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide as Steve huffs out a laugh and slips an arm around his waist to pull him closer. They're practically chest to chest now, and Eddie is suddenly reminded of how very shirtless Steve currently is. He's mildly horrified by the way his hands tremble slightly when he rests them flat against the center of Steve's chest, but it's not like anyone can blame him! He's only ever kissed a couple of people before, and now he's somehow found himself in the arms of a half naked Steve Harrington. So, yeah, he's feeling a little jittery. Sue him.
If Steve notices the jitters, though, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he gives Eddie a soft, disarming smile that makes Eddie feel pathetically weak at the knees. "So..." Steve says, cheeks turning a pretty pink color. "Hi."
A slightly manic bark of laughter bursts from Eddie's lungs, but it only seems to make Steve smile wider. "Yeah, hi, Stevie," Eddie breathes.
And then he nearly stops breathing completely when Steve's thumb drags gently across his cheek. It's such a sweet gesture that Eddie thinks he might melt right into the floorboards.
"So..." Steve murmurs again, gaze not leaving Eddie's. "It has recently been brought to my attention that you didn't realize I was flirting with you this whole time."
Eddie doesn't need a mirror to know that his face flushes bright red at Steve's words.
"But I have been," Steve continues. He bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, which is ridiculous because what the fuck is there about Eddie that could be making Steve Harrington nervous right now? "Like, I've been doing it constantly, because you're funny, and sweet, and sort of adorable, but also kinda hot? Y'know, because you have the tattoos and stuff, and you're all dramatic all the time, and it's hot, but then sometimes you do that thing where you hide your face behind your hair, and it's so fucking cute, Eddie, I mean..."
Steve trails off, cheeks growing even pinker after seemingly realizing that he's been rambling, and Eddie feels like he's going insane.
"Anyway," Steve says, clearing his throat. "I like you, Eddie. Like, a lot. And I've sort of been dying to kiss you for, like, months, so-"
Eddie never lets Steve finish his sentence, because the moment the word kiss leaves his mouth, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a soft, fleeting kiss that's over far too fast.
So fast, in fact, that it takes a moment for reality to catch up to Eddie afterwards. He's already pulling away by the time it hits him: he just kissed Steve Harrington.
He, Eddie fucking Munson, just kissed Steve fucking Harrington.
"Holy shit," Eddie mutters, gaze flitting back and forth between Steve's wide eyes. "Holy shit."
There's a brief pause, and then Steve starts to laugh.
It starts as a soft chuckle and slowly transforms into bright, elated laughter that echoes off the walls and bathes the whole room in sunlight, never mind the rainy day outside. It's light and happy and beautiful, and Eddie unfreezes after a moment to add his own laughter to the mix. He drops his head onto Steve's shoulder, a shiver running down his spine when Steve's arms come around him automatically, like they were made to fit together like this.
Eddie wonders if maybe they were.
When their laughter finally dies down, Steve carefully pulls back just enough to meet Eddie's eyes again, and Eddie smiles shyly up at him.
"Sorry," Eddie says without a hint of guilt in his voice. "You said the word kiss and I panicked."
Steve just shakes his head and grins. "See? Like I said - adorable." One of his hands raises to cradle Eddie's cheek again, and Eddie doesn't hesitate before leaning into the touch. "But if it's okay with you," Steve says softly, “I'd really like to give you a proper kiss, now."
And yep, it's official. Steve Harrington is going to be the death of him.
Eddie can't fucking wait.
He nods and lets his gaze flit down to Steve's lips for a fraction of a second before Steve is closing the distance between them, and oh... this is so much better than the quick, vaguely frantic press of lips they exchanged only a few moments ago. Eddie takes back every judgemental comment he's ever made about the girls who were obsessed with Steve Harrington in high school, because he gets it now.
Oh, God, he gets it.
Because Steve kisses him, soft and sure, like Eddie is the only thing that matters in all the world. It's gentle and sweet and perfect – not an ounce of hesitation in the way Steve slots their lips together. And then Steve just... stays there, like he's giving Eddie a moment to catch up, to process what's happening.
He's so goddamn patient – so fucking kind – and Christ, Eddie adores him for it.
Steve pulls back just enough to break the kiss, and Eddie doesn't whine. He doesn't. But it's okay, because Steve doesn't leave him hanging for long, threading his fingers through Eddie's curls and using them as leverage to tug him even closer into a kiss that turns Eddie's legs to jelly. Steve's tongue slides against Eddie's so beautifully, and his hands are so strong, and he smells like lemony soap and minty toothpaste (did Steve brush his teeth after showering? God, he's ridiculous. He’s perfect.) and Eddie can feel the muscles in Steve's chest shift whenever they move, and, and, and...
And yeah, this time when Steve pulls away, breath coming quicker and eyes shining with happiness, Eddie does whine. Or maybe it's a whimper. Maybe it's both. Christ, Eddie doesn't care. He'll keep making that noise forever if Steve keeps looking at him like this.
"Fuck," Eddie breathes. He knows he probably looks embarrassingly awestruck, but he can't find it in himself to care. "How are you so fucking hot, Steve? What the fuck?" His face is on fire, but Steve just laughs – nope, there's that giggle again – and kisses Eddie's forehead.
Eddie's pretty sure he's melting, but honestly? Worth it.
"I don't know if you've noticed," Steve teases, "but I've actually been working out a lot lately..."
Not even Eddie's lovesickness could protect Steve from the playful smack he gets for that.
"Did I notice?" Eddie huffs. "You're the worst, Harrington."
Steve just smiles and kisses him again.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fluff#jock(ish) steve#pov eddie munson#gay eddie munson#sweetheart steve harrington#eddie is bad at flirting#eddie can't handle jock-mode steve being so hot#lighthearted#first kiss#eddie is pining hard#but its okay because so is steve#i wrote most of this at 3am#so its very silly#but also I love steve and eddie#and they're in love#and i love that for them#mcdynamite writes
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Movie Nights
Summary : Movie night with your best friend turns when your long time crush, and her brother, invites you to watch the titanic with him instead of the horror movie she is forcing you to watch. Gets steamier than the car scene.
Warnings : there's a lot in this one. Oral, both female and male receiving. she grinds on his abs, because, a girl can dream. dom harry. spanking. pussy slapping, choking, slapping, calling him sir. Oh and daddy. p in v sex. protected. ummm.
Word Count : 5.3k (longest fic I have ever written I'm pretty sure)
Authors note : unedited, wrote it out while my best friend packed. took fucking hours 😂
You and your childhood best friend sat on her basement couch watching horror movies with your hands alternating in the popcorn bucket. You had just gotten home from college a few days before and had your first sleepover on the first weekend that the two of you were both back in town. A short standing tradition after the last three years of school.
“What are we watching?” You whine as you hide behind your hands. Peeking at the screen between the slits of your fingers.
“A shitty horror movie with a shitty budget and shitty actors,” she laughs as she continues to munch at the popcorn. You might as well be shaking from fear.
“I hate this! Why can’t we just watch the princess bride? Or ten things I hate about you?” You ask as you stuff a handful of popcorn into your mouth.
“Because those are shitty cheesy movies. You always fall asleep anyways so,” she shrugs her eyes not leaving the screen. The movie continues as you watch through your hands. Peeking occasionally to see someone being murdered or tortured. You didn’t mind the ghost movies or the monster horror but the guts and gore really got to you.
“Whatcha watchin?” Is whispered into your ear, your whole body tending and jumping clear off the cushion.
“Oh fuck Harry!” Gem screams as she throws a piece of popcorn at him. He skillfully catches it in him mouth and smiles.
“You guys make it to easy,” he laughs as he makes his way to the refrigerator in the kitchenette of the basement.
“You’re an ass,” you throw at him before turning back to the tv and placing your slotted fingers over your eyes.
“Why do you watch these if you don’t even watch them?” He questions you. His body gliding over back to the couch. His forearms resting on the back of the couch. His body so close to you that you can feel his body heat.
“Cause your sisters mean and won’t let me watch the notebook?” You state, more so a question.
“Why not? She makes me watch it all the time?” He scoffs. Gem looks at him with pursed lips and sunken eyebrows.
“Whatever Harry, you always pick that movie. I have nothing to do with it,” his face reddens slightly and he coughs.
“Whatever, I’m gonna go upstairs and watch the titanic. Your ears perk up as you hear him say that.
“Really?” You ask all too quickly.
“I even popped more popcorn,” he smiles down at you. You look to Gemma and she shrugs.
“You can go watch cheesy romance movies but I’m gonna watch real movies down here,” she smile. She’s always known of the attraction you have to her brother but neither of you say anything.
“You sure?” She asks. As if asking permission.
“All you’re doing down here is complaining anyways,” she jokes. You nod and then proceed to follow Harry up the stairs. His cologne filling your nose as you trail behind him. You breathe in his smell before realizing that’s definitely a little weird. You plop yourself down on the couch in your designated spot and he begins to dig through the cupboards that holds their DVD’s.
“DVD?” You ask.
“Yeah, of course,” he scoffs jokingly. Then in a much more serious time. “We gotta watch all the specials and extras too,” a smile stretches across your lips and you grab at the very large bowl of popcorn in front of you.
“Oh of course what was I thinking,” you laugh and shove a handful into your mouth. His head snaps at you as he hears the crunch of air puffed corn.
“Hey!” He whines. “Don’t eat all of it before the movie starts. Or you’re making more,” his eyebrow raised daringly.
“Fine. Whatever,” you plop the bowl into the coffee table. Your mouth still full of popcorn. Very buttery perfectly cooked popcorn. Harry has always had a knack for movie snacks. He finally finds the DVD and raises from his hunched position and inserts it into the DVD player. Snatching the remote from next to the tv and eventually finding the spot next to you on the sofa a comfortable place to be. He is close enough that he can reach the popcorn which he has now placed in between the two of you but far enough it’s not weird.
As the movie starts you can't seem to pay attention to the people on the screen. Mostly focused on the feeling of your lifelong crush sitting next to you. The body heat radiating off of him is all you can feel. You keep fidgeting around and moving around trying to get comfortable. His hand then finds its place on your knee.
"Would you stop moving so much," he whispers. His hand not moving from your leg as his attention moves back to the movie. His hand so warm it feels like it is burning a hole through your leggings. His thumb slowly moving back and forth the black fabric. You find your eyes drifting away from the tv and looking to Harry. A small smile resting on his lips as he watches the movie. Reaching over you grab a small handful of popcorn, his eyes darting to you and his mouth opens wide. You let out a small laugh and bring a few pieces of popcorn to his mouth. He smiles widely at you then crunches the popcorn between his teeth. You force your eyes back to the screen but keep looking to Harry in your peripheral. His hand still resting on your thigh.
He readjusts himself scootching slightly closer to you, his hand falling further up your thigh, a small gasp leaves your lips.
"Sorry," he whispers, sliding it back to the place before. You wrap your fingers around his moving it back up your thigh.
"It's okay,"
"You sure?" His head turning to look at you. You nod.
"I trust you," his face close to yours. If you both leaned forward just a bit his nose would bump yours.
"Probably a bad idea." his voice barely audible.
"You've never given me a reason not to," you drift closer to him slightly. Just as he began to lean forward Gem comes bursting through the door.
"James is here, we're going to go to a party at Wills do you wanna come?" she asks walking into the room. Her eyes on her phone. You jump back from Harry and look to your friend, heart in your throat.
"No I'm not feeling particularly partyish," you shrug. She looks between you and Harry, a small smile playing at her lips.
"You want me to take you home?" Her eyes mischievously looking to her brother.
"I can take her after the movie is over," his hand still resting on your thigh he begins to move his thumb back and forth again.
"You okay with that?" she asks looking back to you. You just nod. "Okay well than I'm out of here," she looks back to her phone and walks to the door. Your phone buzzes and quickly you glance at the screen. Wrap it before you tap it babe XD is the text notification you get from Gemma. You quickly turn your phone over, harry looking back to the TV screen as Gemma leaves. His hand raises holding the remote and pauses the tv.
"I'm gonna run to the bathroom, I'll be right back," you nod as he stands up. His frame towering over you. You look up to him, his waist at your eye level. As he brushes by you, he looks down to you. Stopping when he is right and front of you. Grasping your chin in his fingers as you look up to him. "Don't go anywhere," he says with a smile. You bite into your bottom lip.
"I wasn't planning on it," you say through a smile.
"Good," he lets go of your chin and makes his way to the bathroom. You take in a big breath and sigh out. Dropping your head to rest on the couch. You move the popcorn bowl to the table. Grabbing your phone you respond to Gemma. Shut up! Be safe, I love you <3. As she responds Harry comes back into the room, you drop your phone into your lap as he plops back beside you. Now close enough that his leg slots itself under your crisscrossed legs. His hand finds residency back on your thigh as he presses play on the movie.
"I'm thirsty," you complain. He slowly turns his head to you looking over your face. He pauses the movie again.
"What do you want?" He asks moving to get up.
"I can get it," you lift yourself from the couch shuffling to the kitchen. You grab yourself a glass, and when you turn to see if Harry wants anything. You yelp when you come face to face with him. "Holy shit you scared me," you laugh out. He smiles down at you.
"Sorry, didn't mean to," His hands find your waist. Your breath catching in your throat. "Didn't want you to get lonely," you can't help the smile that is plastered across your face. You just walk out of his grip and to the fridge.
"I think I would have been okay," You grab the pitcher of lemonade that they have just for you and pour yourself a glass. Harry lets out a sigh.
"You're probably right," as you turn back around, closing the door with your hip. He plucks the glass out of your hands and takes a sip. You gasp in fake annoyance.
"Hey! That's mine!" You push at him as he then sets the glass on the counter. Placing his hand on top of yours as you push against him. Your fingers encased by his. His other hand finds your waist and pulls you to him, your body colliding with his. He releases his hold of your hand on his chest and wraps you completely in his embrace. Usure of what to with your hands you bring your other hand up to rest on his chest. "You're mean," you joke. The smile on his face grows.
"I was thirsty," he shrugs. You just roll your eyes, dropping your head down. Looking down to where your hands rest on his chest. His hand grasps your jaw pulling you to look at him. "Don't you roll your eyes at me," he says jokingly, with some weight behind his words.
"What are you going to do about it?" you ask breathily. His hold on your jaw tightening.
"Don't tempt me," he says, your name escaping his mouth.
"I'm not doing anything," his eyes drop to your lips, then back to your own eyes. You nod, giving him permission. He dips, his nose bumping yours in a playful way. You close your eyes waiting for his lips to press against yours. You open your eyes, and he is just starring at you. When his green irises meet yours, he moves his thumb back and forth against the skin of your chin.
"You're so beautiful," He whispers before he collides with you. His warm lips enveloping yours. Your hands move to grasp at the back of his neck. The hold he has on your hips tightening, he pulls you to him. You deepen the kiss, tasting the Lemonade on his lips. He opens his mouth pressing his tongue against the seam of your lips, and accept him, exploring each other his hands drift from your waist to your ass. As you gasp you can feel him smile into your mouth. You pull back and gasp in a breath.
"You okay?" he asks. You nod at him, lips pulled into your mouth. "You wanna go back to the movie?" you shrug. "Or we can go to my room?" you shrug again. "It doesn't have to go further than this?" he offers up again. You pause for a moment before nodding your head. He fights a smile and turns to grab your drink, his hand holding yours in the other. He quickly leans down to grab the remote and clicks off the TV. Before he can pull you upstairs to his room you grab your phone off the couch. You trail behind him, eyes locked on your entwined hands. Trailing up the tattoos on his arms, you cross the threshold into his room. He closes the door behind you and places the glass of lemonade on his side table before sitting down on the edge of the bed. You slot yourself between his legs and drop your hands onto his shoulder. His eyes wide as he looks up to you. His hands sliding from their resting place on your hips and down to the backs of your knees. Pulling you close to him so that he can slide you onto his lap. As your body is jerked into his hold you let out a whine.
"I won't drop you," he jokes as you finally find yourself sitting in his lap. Knees on either side of his waist, feet under your bottom. Arms wrapped around his neck as his are clasped behind your back holding you in place. You lean down and press a chaste kiss on his lips. He pushes you back into him as you try to pull away. You laugh as he begins to place kisses on your jaw, slowly trailing down your neck. Not venturing down further than your collar bones. You lean your head back to give him access to more skin. The light scruff tickles as he pressed light kisses along the tendons poking behind your skin. Finding a soft spot that elicits a gasp from you. Your hands tangle into his hair as his teeth scrape against the lilac mark that now stains your skin. The pull at the base of his neck tilting his head up and you capture his lips in yours once again. As his tongue delves into your mouth his hands find your ass. Fingers kneading into your skin, Fingernails scraping at your fabric covered skin. As you nip at his lip he pulls back.
"Are you okay? With all this?" he asks emphasis on the last few words with a squeeze of your ass. You nod in approval. "Words," he speaks your name.
"Yes, I am very okay with it," you twist his hair in your fingers.
"And going further?" you nod. He gives you a pointed look.
"Yes,"
"How much further?" you answer with a shrug. He gives your ass a sharp slap. "Words, was that, okay?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Yes, and I mean, whatever happens, happens," you shrug with one shoulder. "I'll let you know if I want to slow down or stop," he nods and drops his back onto the mattress. Your form following his as he presses a kiss into your lips. Another smack is laid on your ass and he quickly spins you around so that you are under him. Your legs unfold from under you, the weight of his body on yours a comforting feeling. Your legs wrapping across his back. Pulling him down closer to you, his clothed cock rubbing across your core. A small growl vibrates within is throat as he grinds down into you.
You disconnect from him and begin kissing down his chin, down his neck, sucking at the sensitive skin. He finds solace in the crease of your neck, face buried in your hair. He breathes deeply as you pull at his hair, your hands venture down from his hair. Running over his neck, down his chest. Ghosting over his abdomen and slipping up under his shirt. Rubbing your fingers sternly over the bones protruding from his hips. Hands skimming over the fern tattoos that you know adorn themselves on his skin. He lets out a shaky breath as your hands continue to explore his body. Your head now dropped onto the mattress, eyes closed and breath shallow.
"Fuck you feel so good against me," he whines into your ear. Pressing himself harder into your center. You let out a wispy moan. He leans up, scootching himself off the floor and stands. Looking down to you, you sit up slowly and snake your hands back under his shirt.
"I wanna see your tattoos," you pout, pulling at the black fabric of his shirt. He smirks and pulls the shirt over his head. Revealing his ink-stained torso. Your hands lay flat against the ferns that poke out from his jeans; The waistband pulled down slightly. His light happy trail thickening as is dives below his waist. Slowly skimming your hands up to the butterfly under his pecks your fingers tracing the lines of the wings, then up the center. continuing with one finger you trace it up the center of his chest and bring your other hand back up. You rub your thumbs over the birds on his chest before slipping the pads of your fingers up and down his collar bones. You look back to his face, his eyes already watching you intently. His hands encapsulate your face, leaning down he places a kiss on your nose. You scrunch it as he pulls away.
"I wanna see you too," his voice husky. You move to take off your shirt, but his hands quickly cover yours and grasp your shirt. Slowly pulling it off your body. As the fabric moves over your face you close your eyes, as he drops the shirt to the ground, he leans back down over you. Your eyes still closed he drops to his knees. He begins placing kisses on your neck, your head falling back. "So fucking beautiful," he whispers as his bottom lip skims across the tops of your breasts. His hands running up your legs, fingers splayed as he travels up. Lightly running them up your sides and waist. Finally grasping at your bra covered chest. The sudden pressure causing you to let out a moan.
"Harry please," you whine out.
"Please what baby?" he asks, pressing soft kisses against your hot skin.
"I don't know I just want to feel you," his hand runs along the band of your bra until he finds the clasp in the back. "Yes, please," you say before he can ask for permission. He smiles against your skin, quickly unclasping the lace clad bra. It falls off your form, he pulls it from your body and adds it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His mouth covers your exposed flesh. Tongue circling your peaked nipple while his hand comes to play with your neglected breast. Kneading at your skin, You lean yourself down to him.
"So fucking needy," he says before he reattaches to the opposite breast. Your now wet exposed skin tingling in the cold air. Little gasps and whines leaving your mouth as he continues to suck at your skin.
"Only for you," you breathe out. He growls as his teeth nip at you. You let out a squeak and jolt back. He pushes against you, having you lay back flat. Mouth finding your neck, adorning you with more marks. His hand drift to the waist of your leggings and he slips just the tips of his fingers into the fabric. Rubbing his hands back and forth, you twitch up into his touch. "You can take them off," you tell him. He sighs into you. Hands bunching the fabric, coming back to a full standing position as he pulls the black fabric fully from your legs. He then drops down to his knees. Fingers skimming down from your ankles, up your calves. Resting at the inter seam of your knee. Holding onto the flesh of your legs as he looks to you. Your hair splayed on the cream sheets behind you.
"Touch me please," you beg. He runs his finger pads along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You grasp at his hair as he begins to place kisses along the edges of your underwear. "Harry please," you whine, lifting your hips from the bed. He responds with a slap to your thigh.
"Let me explore," he nips at the skin of your thigh. You instinctively try to close your legs. He then takes both hands, wrapping them around the back of your thighs and holding you open. You let out a huff as he begins placing soft kisses along your clothes seam. Almost light enough you can't feel him. "Already so wet," he groans out, as if he is speaking to himself. He then licks a flat stripe against you, not quite enough to touch your depraved clit. You moan out, gripping his hair tighter. Pushing his face to you, his nose bumps your clit, and your hips try to push up to grind into him, but he stops you with the grip he has on your hips. He pulls back and slaps against your pussy, which rips a wail from your throat.
"Fuck Harry please,"
"Stop being a needy little whore and let me have fun," he then hooks his fingers into the gusset of your underwear and all but rips them off your body. He dives back into your cunt. Fingers playing at your entrance as he instantly attaches his mouth to your clit. You writhe off the bed.
"Harry, yes, oh my god," you yell out. His smile breaking the suction he had. "Please don't stop, please, please," You pull tightly at his hair. His fingers finally slip knuckle deep into you. Exploring, searching for that spongy spot inside you. Moans and obscenities falling from your mouth. As he finally presses his fingers to the spot deep inside of you drop your head into the mattress and your legs drop to the sides. Arching up off the bed, he continues pumping his finger in and out of you. Mouth still attached to your clit; you can feel yourself approach your climax faster than ever before.
"Fuck Harry please I'm so close," pushing yourself against his face.
"Come for me baby," he says before quickly attaching himself to you. Teeth grazing your clit causing stars to burst behind your eyes. Your fingers and toes curling and clenching so hard it almost hurts. Broken words fall from your mouth as you whimper and moan. Pleasure coursing through your veins, your heart beating a million miles an hour. "Such a good girl," Harry groans as he begins placing kisses on your trembling thighs. You roll your head to the side as he guides himself onto the bed. Pulling you to his chest as you come down from your high. His hand running up and down your back, murmuring into your ear.
"You did such a good job baby," he presses a kiss into your hair. You open your eyes and look to him.
"Thank you," you smile at him. Which causes him to chuckle.
"You're welcome, I've been dying to do that for years," He then pulls you in for a kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, he pulls your bottom lip in between his teeth as he pulls away.
"Years huh?" you ask.
"Years," he confirms before kissing you again. You just smile into his lips.
"Damn," you mumble against him. He looks at you with slight concern. "You're saying I could've had mind blowing orgasms for years but we were too chicken?" he breaks out in laughter.
"I guess so," once your head is finally clear you look down at your tangled bodies. His pants have been undone; zipper flayed open. Exposing is Calvin Clein briefs that clothe a still very hard member. The outline of the head of his cock pressing against the fabric. You run your finger along rim of his cock, and he lets out a broken sigh.
"It was starting to hurt," he breathes out. Eyes watching your hands intently.
"Aww baby," You condescend as you then palm down the length of him.
"You fuckin, ooh," he trails off into a moan.
"Can I kiss it better?" you ask as you slowly glide down his body. He nods in confirmation.
"Fucking please," he groans, his dick pushing up against your hands.
"I can't wait to taste you," you say as you are eye level with his clothed cock. Pulling at his jeans and underwear. His hips lift from the bed so you can gain access to his untouched skin. His dick springs out slapping against his stomach. He lets out a hiss as your hand wraps around his base. Lifting his dick to your lips, you place an opened mouth kiss against the tip of his cock. Tongue poking out to taste him. A hum like moan leaves his mouth at the contact.
"Holy fuck you feel so good already," his hips jerk up. You then take all of his head into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around him. Slowly taking a little more at a time, bobbing up and down slightly. Wetting his cock slowly. His grasp finds home in your hair pulling at your roots. You moan at the pleasurable burn that sends tingles through your body. The vibrations on his cock causing him to thrust up into your mouth. "Fuck, sorry, sorry," He groans as you pull off of him.
"It's okay," you gasp. Before diving back in and taking him as far back as you can.
"Fucking shit you're perfect," he groans. Eyes screwing shut and his head dropping onto his pillows. His hand stays at the back of your head as you bob up and down on his dick. Taking what you can't fit down your throat in your hands. You can feel him twitch in your mouth, your mouth salivating, ready to taste him explode across your taste buds. Before he finishes, he pulls you off him and lets out a shaky breath. "I wanna feel you," his dick twitches in your grasp. "If that's okay with you?" you nod.
"Yeah, yes, please," He pulls at your hair, you climb back up onto him. Your exposed core sitting on his abdomen. Connecting at the lips again. His hands gripping your hips slowly guiding you to grind against his abs. You whimper into the kiss, his fingers digging deep enough to bruise in the morning. You can feel your orgasm building as you rub yourself on him. His skin becoming wet with your slick. He pulls back from your lips.
"You getting close?" you let out a whimper as you nod. "Come on baby, you can do it. Cum on my tummy baby," he coaxes you as you grind down harder onto him. He lets go of your waist with one hand and slaps your ass. The sting pushing you over the edge. Legs clenching around his abdomen, shaking and whining. His eyes glued to your face, that's twisted and clenched in pleasure. "Good girl, such a good fuckin girl," he growls as you finish for the second time. Your hands find rest on his chest as you collapse into his arms.
"Fuck Harry you're gonna kill me," you sigh as you nuzzle into his neck. He chuckles. Hands kneading your ass.
"At least you'll die satisfied," you place a kiss against his neck.
"Can I satisfy you now?" you joke.
"Of course," he laughs. Turning over so you are under him he hops off the bed. Quickly shedding himself of his pants he turns and begins digging in his dresser. He comes back to the bed. A small foil packet in his hand. He tosses it on the bed beside you. You stand up on your knees and waddle to the edge of the bed. He pulls you into a deep kiss. Hands on either side of your face. You sigh out into him. As he pulls away his thumb runs across your bottom lip.
"You sure? We don't have to if you don't want to," his thumb resting on your lip. You lean down and press a kiss against it.
"I am beyond sure," you smile at him.
"Thank fuck," he wraps his arms around your thighs and picks you up. tossing you back onto the bed. You land with a laugh. Be stays standing looking down on you, lustful look on his face.
"Are you going to fuck me or just look at me?" he smirks and grabs the condom. Ripping open the wrapping and rolling it onto himself without taking his eyes off of you. You look back and forth between his face and his dick. Mouth practically watering at the sight of him. He guides himself over you. Slowly crawling onto you. As he comes face to face with you, he pecks your lips.
"I want your eyes on mine okay?" he questions you.
"Yes sir," you slip. Eyes widening slightly. He smirks at the comment. He moans as his tip teases your entrance. You lift your hips causing his head to slip inside of you. Both of you gasping at the feeling. His hand then comes around your throat. Squeezing slightly at the sides, asking permission. You nod.
"So fucking needy," he groans as he then sheaths himself fully inside of you. He stays buried inside you unmoving. The moan that leaves your body is unlike any noise you've made before. The sheer fullness of him causing your body to vibrate. "Such a tight little cunt," His eyes still locked on yours. "My tight little cunt huh?" you release a little moan. His hand releasing your throat and tapping at the side of your face. "Words baby," he commands.
"Yes Harry, all yours," he then lighly smacks your face.
"Uh uh, that's not my name," His pupils blown with lust. You moan out to him.
"Sir," you whine out. He begins to slowly pull out. "Yes sir, I'm sorry sir," barely escapes your mouth as he fully thrusts back into you.
"Fuck," he drowns out. Slowly dragging himself across your walls. As he slowly fucks you, your moans grow. His tip bouncing off your cervix in the most deliciously painful way. "Fuckin good girl taking Daddys cock all the way," he groans.
"Like it was made for me," you sigh.
"Just for you baby, only yours," you clench around him. His breath faltering. "You keep doing that I'll fucking come," he scolds. His hand snaking in between your conjoined bodies and finding your clit. As he draws slow circles over the bundle of nerves you gasp. The two prior orgasms making you overly sensitive.
"Oh Daddy please don't stop,"
"Come on baby, come for me, come with me," he whimpers. You can feel him twitching inside of you, on the edge. As his thrusts become sloppy you feel your orgasm teetering on the edge.
"I'm gonna come, Daddy, fuck," His eyes not leaving yours.
"Eyes on me, wanna watch you come," you moan out as he thrusts harder. Your vision cloudy with tears as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes closing as you hit your peak. His hand making harsh contact with your cheek.
"Eyes on me," he releases a frustrated groan. You open your eyes to look at him. His eyes an even darker green than usual. His pupils dilate erasing almost all the color from his irises as he releases into the condom buried balls deep inside you. Gasped breaths escaping his mouth as he struggles to curse out. He collapses onto you. slipping beside you and nuzzling into your neck. You move to wrap your arms around him as his clasp your waist.
You lay together for quite some time before he lifts himself to kiss you. Slow lazy kisses, capturing each other's breaths. As he pulls away and looks back into your eyes, you speak.
"That was pretty good," you shrug. His mouth falls open with offence.
"Pretty good?" he scoffs. "Don't make me fuck you till you can't walk pretty girl. I will fucking destroy you," Before you get a chance to answer he captures your lips in his. You push him off you.
"So sensetive," You laugh, pulling him back in for a kiss. Both of you fighting smiles.
Masterlist
#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#harry styles dom#harry styles smut fanfic#i love him
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“Still super jealous as hell by the way,” Eddie says; Steve laughs, elbows him in the chest—disguising a want to touch by shoving him away.
There’s a brief flash of warmth against his skin before Eddie teeters back.
He stays close though, dances in and out of Steve’s space as they walk, almost close enough to…
“D’you know what’s adding an extra layer of, uh…” Eddie clicks his fingers then says with relish, “Of batshit insanity to everything?”
“No,” Steve says, and he feels a smile growing; he couldn’t fight it even if he tried. He doesn’t want to. “But I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”
“My, uh. One of my favourite games as a kid was… uh well, it didn’t really have a name, it was more—”
“No jump rope for you?” Steve asks in mock surprise.
Eddie snorts. “Nah, nothing as normal as that, Harrington, honestly. Kid me was a visionary.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve says.
The words hover in the space between teasing and genuine; he means both, of course.
“At, um. When I was at my dad’s.”
Eddie’s smile flickers, and Steve tries to fill in the gaps: has vague memories of middle school halfway through one year, of murmured interest, you seen the new kid? He just moved here.
“Our place backed onto some woods, and I’d just… kinda wander.”
Eddie scoffs—his foot makes an aborted motion as he walks, like he’d gone to absentmindedly kick a twig and thought better of it.
Better safe than sorry, Steve thinks. Hive mind and all that.
“So your favourite game was wandering?” he prompts when Eddie goes quiet.
A tease again. Softer. Really means you can tell me. I want to know.
He wonders if Eddie can hear it.
“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds shit. And it was more, like, active up in…” Eddie taps his temple. “I’d just… uh. Pretend the woods were haunted, stuff like that.”
“Oh,” Steve says, amusement growing. “So all this,” he gestures to the vines and trees, to the fog creeping along the forest floor, “is real immersive for you, then. Got it.”
“Um, no,” Eddie says, and his voice is going up into that wobbly tone that only comes from suppressing genuine, ugly laughter. “The stuff in my head was gothic, Harrington. It had class.”
“God, man, I’m sorry. Is the alternate dimension not living up to your expectations?”
“I’m gonna make a complaint.”
“Yeah, do it in writing. Make it professional.”
“To whom it may concern,” Eddie starts, all comically snooty.
Steve laughs.
And Eddie’s up close again, grinning, and Steve presses the side of his forearm up against his chest; the moment lingers, until Eddie moves back, until Steve drops his arm a fraction too late.
“I’ve found the experience provided—”
Steve snorts. “Experience?”
“—thoroughly lacking in both atmosphere and charm. I expect appropriate compensation as soon as possible.”
“Tell you what,” Steve says, “show me a picture of your haunted woods when we’re outta here. I wanna see how they compare.”
“Um,” Eddie says through the tail end of a chuckle. He sounds embarrassed. “I don’t have… My dad, uh, he wasn’t exactly the kinda guy to take a lot of pictures, y’know?”
And Steve doesn’t know—or at least, he thinks he doesn’t.
What he does know is that in the back of a cabinet there’s an old baby book: he can tell exactly when his grandma first began to get sick—and when everything else went to shit—because the milestone entries stop a third of the way through.
He doesn’t mention it. He can’t find the words, not here, not now—even if he could, he’s worried it’d sound a clumsy, weak comparison at best, self-centred at worst.
So he waits. Feels when the abrupt silence becomes less heavy.
“Did you, like, do speeches to yourself in the game, too?”
Eddie gives him a sideways, bemused look. “Maybe.”
Steve pretends to mull it over. Nods. “Yeah, figures.”
A pause.
“Uh, hold on,” Eddie says, chuckling again, like he’s been surprised into it. “You can’t just leave it there, man, you—”
“Nah, it’s just.” Steve smothers a grin. “Just fits you, that’s all. Like, you would’ve dramatically narrated your own birth if you could, I know it.”
Eddie laughs hard; he nearly drops his flashlight.
“You’re funny,” he says eventually, still smiling.
“Oh, sorry,” Steve quips back, “was I not supposed to be? Ruined your doctrine again?”
“No, just—” Eddie laughs again. Sighs. “Just timing, man. Wish I was finding out in a more, uh, low stakes kinda way. Like…”
His eyes go a little far-off, and for a second Steve can see that kid in him, the one who kept himself company in his own imagination.
“Like we’re just walking past the lockers, or something.”
“Yeah,” Steve says, with probably more feeling than it strictly calls for. “Anything beats these goddamn vines.”
He could add that there is no ideal timing, really: that if there’s one thing he’s learned throughout all this, it’s that there’s hardly ever time to dwell on things. It’s more do or die.
Besides, he thinks, you could wait all your life for a perfect moment, and it still passes you—
The earth trembles.
Eddie sways; Steve lunges to the side so Eddie falls backwards, away from a nearby vine. He tries to plant his feet, realises he’s inevitably going down, too, and course corrects.
Falls.
Feels the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest against his hand.
“M’definitely filing that complaint,” Eddie says breathlessly.
He turns so he’s facing Steve. Stays close.
They’ve both dropped their flashlights. The effect is dazzling—Eddie’s face is illuminated, eyes bright.
No atmosphere, my ass, Steve thinks.
“You okay?” he murmurs.
“Y-yeah,” Eddie says—gasps, really. Steve feels how his breathing shakes.
There’s barely a disguise now; they’re both leaning in.
And for a moment, they’re not here at all; they’re just at school, hiding by the lockers.
Then again…
Maybe it could only happen here.
Maybe wandering—maybe everything—has been leading up to this: the moment before a chance taken.
#a mix between a missing scene & scene rewrite ❤️#the walk through the upside down woods#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#pre steddie
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the boy is mine (carol's edition)
you know i had to do it to 'em. if you'd like to take a crack at the 'the boy is mine' writing challenge, you can check it out here. you can also see the masterlist of everyone's works here.
a/n: for me, how eddie was fleshed out in FOI has always been how i see him. hurting, but goofy, but snarky, but sweet, but loving, but scared, but all that. eddie 'has taken care of himself since third grade' munson just makes sense to me. in this ficlet, our romantic night in gets muddled when eddie doesn't know how to just let someone love him right. i've also always have written eddie as older than he actually is, so here -- he's 25. argue with the wall.
tw: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, some smutty references but no smut, references to smoking and drinking. some arguing but nothing crazy.
The day was hard on his shoulders and back, no one should be hunched over the hood of a car for this long -- and even being young isn't saving him from the grimace he makes every time he gets out of his bed with a decades old mattresss. Eddie cracks his neck each way while he chugs down the road leading to Forest Hills, slick and shiny with rain from the afternoon. The orangey yellow headlights on his beat up '71 Chevrolet bounce cheerily off the darkened asphalt, but the scrape, clatter, and growl of his engine and whatever else was a stark reminder that this van was on it's last leg. As bright as the headlights were, the gloomy purpled evening sky was a perfect match to his mood.
Today is Eddie Munson's birthday.
For the past few years, Eddie has spent his birthday working double shifts at the auto shop and then meeting the guys at the Hideout to get so drunk he can't see. Can't be sad about your birthday if you're too drunk to think about how your mama's dead and your dad won't call. Can't be sad about how you won't ever get to hear her sing you happy birthday, or put on a record, or dance with you in the living room. Or have your dad make dinner and put the six pack away if only for that night. To not run out on 'a job' or 'work a late shift' where he won't come back for days afterward.
He'd drink and drink until you had to hold him up to get him out of the bar, piling him into the back seat and having the guys follow you home to help load him into bed. He always looked forward to the greasy diner hangover breakfast in the morning where it could be just the two of you, and not his birthday, and not all the awful things he thinks he is.
The gravel groans and crunches when he pulls in at the side of the trailer he used to share with Wayne. With another roll of his head and shoulders he kills the ignition, hopping out of the van and leaning over to grab his bag. It's only when he slings it over his shoulder that he notices the warm glow of the kitchen light on, passing muted through the small curtains. He hip checks the door shut and makes his way up the steps that need repairing -- another thing to add to the list for 'Spring Cleaning' in a couple weeks that he knows he'll forget to do until you remind him or one of the boards rots out.
Eddie's ring tap against the metal handle and he braces for the screech of the door, only to be met with the cozy blend of garlic, onion, and rosemary hitting his nose first. He swallows while he kicks off his work boots, turning the corner to see you in the kitchenette, putting the lid back onto the one large pasta pot he has and turning the burner off.
"Oh!" you jump when you see him, shock turning into a smile, "You're earlier than I thought you'd be. Hold on!"
"What're y--"
He's interrupted by you hurrying into the fridge, glass clinking when you pull out a Mionetto bottle that was already opened to reveal the cork.
"Surprise!" you ring out, popping the bottle with a little flourish, "Happy birthday!"
He stands there, unsure at first what he's looking at, trying to take it all in. You in the kitchen with an apron on, the table set nice, a cake set on the counter to cool with a covered bowl of what looks like home made vanilla frosting next to it. To the side, a familiar small notebook lays opened to a buttercream recipe -- his mom's buttercream recipe, still scrawled in her loopy handwriting on yellowing pages with fading blue ink.
"Melvald's didn't have any like, nice cups," you say with a scrunch of your nose as you pour two glasses of prosecco into flimsy plastic flutes, "Is that okay?"
"Uh..." he snaps back to reality when you hand him the cup, "Y-yeah that's okay."
"Happy birthday, handsome," you smile, raising your drink before you take a sip, he follows suit.
"What is all this?" he asks, voice sounding like it's coming from someone else. Objectively, he should be falling to his knees right now, crying with adoration for you. Sobbing over the clear effort you've put in for a romantic night together at the trailer.
"Um," you suck in your lips quickly, and release them, eyes lowering to the scuffed linoleum, "I uh, I made braised short rib and mashed potatoes, some broccoli. Wayne told me that um, that your dad used to smoke them for your birthday but we don't have a smoker so..."
"Why?"
The swell in his heart builds from genuine affection to suspicious bitterness, this was way too much.
"Did you not check the calendar today or something? It's kind of a big day," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh, taking the apron off and hanging it on the hook by the hallway, "Sit, sit."
He follows your direction, sitting at the table where the place setting is the best it can be with what you have. You even folded up the paper towels nicely. He silently sips on the bubbles, uncomfortable on the makeshift throw pillow cushion on the chair, while you take the plate in front of him and begin serving.
"I should um," he starts, voice gravelly, "I should wash my hands and uh, and change or..."
"Yeah," you nod, voice higher pitched than expected, "Go, go ahead. It'll all be ready when you're done washing up."
He leaves the glass behind, thudding into the bedroom where he notices a Frederick's of Hollywood bag sitting at the end of the bed. A small pile of gifts in shiny blue paper lay stacked up pretty on his dresser -- a card front in center 'Eddie My Love' - you write it in the same way you sing it to him absentmindedly every now and again. Flipping the lyrics every time.
He swallows again, pulling in his cheeks and biting down while he peels off his coveralls and slips into what he was planning to wear to drinks later -- a band tee and some worn jeans. It feels cheap to wear this now, now that you've put in all this effort. Now that you're looking all sweet and put together in the kitchen for him. He rolls his shoulders again, trying to stretch the frustration out. He doesn't wanna be mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't wanan feel so sick in his chest over it -- but he does. All this work for what?
Eddie takes his rings off to wash his hands, using the same Dove bar soap to wash the remaining grime off his face from work. Big inhale, big exhale into the towel on the door before making it back to the kitchen where the dinette table was ready for dinner, two tapered candles lit in old holders on the side. He sits across from you, your eyes glittering in the light of the flame.
"You didn't have to do this," he says quietly. Your lips twitch into a half smile, head cocking slightly to the side.
"I know, but it's your day...it's a big one, too. The big two-five," your voice doing its best to soothe, "Can't just, I dunno -- get plastered at The Hideout every year..."
"Sure I can," he shrugs with a quirk of his brows, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork. He watches the melty pat of butter ooze off one of the edges like a volcano, pooling in next to the broccoli.
"And you like that? That's fun for you?" you chuckle before noticing he's just playing with his food, "You gonna eat?"
"Getting plastered at The Hideout is like, tradition," he mutters, looking at the clock over the cabinets, "And we're gonna be late meeting the guys."
"Ed..." you say, a vapor of disappointment floating through his name when you say it. He winces.
"Like I said, babe," he says, "You didn't have to do all this -- y'know, spend all this extra cash on dinner and --"
"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to -- I wanted to do something nice so that your birthday could be sp -- "
"Okay, well I don't need my birthday to be special, it never is," he snaps, he doesn't mean to, "I didn't ask you to do this for me."
You hold your soft gaze at him, shoulders round down while you rest a cheek on your palm. If Eddie's mama was still alive, she'd tell you to get your elbows off the table.
In the flame, your glittering eyes turn glassy. You let a soft breath out through your nose, a sulk clear in your posture.
"You're right," you mumble, a soft squeak of a sound while you slowly stand, shaking your head, "You're right, you didn't ask. I shouldn't have assumed that you..."
You trail off while you flick the lights on in the kitchen, leaning forward to gently blow out the taper candles. Your hand swishes away the smoke and soot, pushing out out of the cracked kitchen window before the smoke detector catches it. The cabinets creak while you take out some Tupperware from the top shelves, the good stuff that the ladies in the park sold Wayne back in the 70s. They click and clack as the bowls and trays and their tops hit the formica counter top.
"Well--well, wait -- you don't have to pack it up, babe," he says, sitting up a little taller in the chair. When he hears the shudder in your breath he stands, "You don't have to put it away."
"No, it's fine," you assure, a small strain coming through from your chest, "It'll be like -- you'll be so excited when you get home and there's all this food. I just gotta call the guys and tell them to just go to the bar instead of coming here."
"Whaddayou mean, coming here?"
You turn around, eyes wet now but not crying, a tug on your brow and taughtness in your jaw from where you try to hold it back.
"It was supposed to be a surprise," you shrug, "But like, it's not important. Lemme just pack this up and I'll get it figured out."
"What's the surprise?" he asks, tilting his head to get a better look at you.
"Well I..." you let out another breath, lower lip wobbling; an action your stop with a sharp inhale through the nose.
"Well I thought it would be fun if the guys came over and did a birthday oneshot campaign with you. I helped Gare and Jeff write it and Jeff was gonna DM," you let out in one breath, "And it was gonna be like, a silly drinking game version."
"You were gonna play?" he asks meekly. You nod. You rarely play, always watch. Always make snacks or help him clean up the trailer, always order the pizza because Eddie forgets to. Always add extra mushrooms on one because Richie likes extra mushrooms. Always make sure to get one with white sauce cause red cause doesn't sit great with Dustin.
"Did a, um, did a character sheet and whatever," you say, defeated, while you open the utensil drawer to pull out an extra pair of tongs and a serving spoon, "Drew her -- it's in your card."
You start to pack up the food and the tears start up again, welling in your eyes but still not spilling over. Eddie steps forward, getting between you and the pots and pans on the stove.
"Hey, wait," his voice bare audible, "Babe, don't."
"It's okay," you sniffle, "I just have to call them."
"No -- baby, stop," there's an edge now, ring hand falling on your wrist, "Stop packing it up."
"It's fine--"
A waltz between you, him, and the tupperware on the counter.
"Don't make me..." he huffs, trying to maneuver the tongs out of your hand, "If you don't stop, we're gonna have a pr--"
"Ed, enough! We will go to the bar, it's fine," you urge, anxiety heightening in your chest where it bursts, you start to cry, "Please, let me put it away. It's fine. I just -- fuck --"
"I feel like such an asshole," you sigh, breaking. You relent, letting go of the tongs where he takes them and leaves them between the burners on the yellowed stove.
"Don't be like that, you're not," he soothes, closing in on you against the counters edge, "You're not, I'm sorry."
"I really just wanted your birthday to be special," you weakly murmur, wiping at your eyes.
"You know how I get," he says, rough hands coming up to cup your face where he leaves a soft kiss to your cheek, "M'just not great at bein' fussed over."
"You deserve to be fussed over, doofus," you garble out, his thumbs replacing your fingers to catch the tears as they fall.
"It's hard, babe," he nods, "You knows it's hard for me. Y'know with my mom's stuff gone and my dad being...who fuckin' -- who fuckin' knows. The Hideout just makes sense. That's y'know -- that's what I deserve."
"That's not even true," you shake your head, "Don't be stupid."
"Well, I barely graduated so," he offers you a peck to each salty, wet cheek, "Stupid's my middle name."
"Don't cry, sweetheart," he breathes, leaning in with a slow kiss. A kiss drenched in apologies and thank yous, breaks away just to kiss again. And again, and again, and again until you're both breathless under the sickly yellow green glow of the overhead kitchen light.
"How about I change into something nicer than this, and we'll pop these plates in the microwave and start over," he asks, a smile toying on his full lips, "'Kay?"
You nod back, getting another peck stolen from you, and following him down the hall.
"Oh, yes, yes, allow me to slip into something more..." he announces with flourish, posing half sexily half awkwardly in the doorway to his bedroom, "Uncomfortable."
You snort, giggling while you follow in after him, settling on the end of his bed, "You don't have to dress up fancy."
"'Course I do," he tsks, brows furrowing, "M'going to a five star restaurant doll, I can't look like a slob."
He pulls out a pair of slacks from a funeral he went to two years ago, discarding his jeans and sliding them up over his pale legs. To your dismay, he plucks the t-shirt with a screen print of a tux out of his closet, and exchanges the worn Dio tee with that. You'll always prefer the Dio tee.
"Classy," you tease. He winks, and that's enough to make you okay with the tux shirt. His fingers trail over the stack of presents and land on the envelope.
"Can I open the card?"
"Sure."
"Am I gonna cry over it?" he asks, looking at you over the dull paper when he flicks open the top.
You shake your head, "Nah, it's not sappy. You're the sappy card writer."
"I'm so sappy," he agrees, pulling out the card, "I gotta work on that, huh?"
"No, I like when you're sappy, ya sap."
You watch him read the card, blush evident in the warm wash of gold from his bedside lamp. You're not a sappy card writer, but you always know how to make him feel like a kid with a crush. When he opens up your character sheet his bottom lip tucks between his teeth.
"Shit," he grins, "Rogue tiefling, huh? You tryna kill me?"
"I thought it could be fun," you titter, standing up to look at the pages next to him, "Chaotic evil. Look at me."
"Ugh, baby's first villain," he gushes, "I love it."
"Look at the picture," you bounce on the balls of your feet while he goes to the next page. A much quieter 'shit' falls from his mouth. It was not a drawing that was for the rest of the guys to see, a sketch of a tiefling version of you in an outfit meant for his eyes only.
"So you are trying to kill me," he asks, fingers tracing the curve of 'your' hip on the page where the outfit digs into the fat of 'your' hips.
"No, that'll be later," you smirk.
"Hm?' his brows raise.
"What do you think is in the Frederick's bag?" you ask, faux innocence smattering into your tone.
"Ah, you put a little costume together for me?" Eddie's mouth waters at the thought, brain fuzzy as he looks at the picture and then at you.
"Something like that," you tease, making your way back out into the hallway.
"Something like that?!" he repeats back, hurrying back out to pull you into a searing kiss before you can make it back into the kitchen. The kind from the movies where he dips you down toward the faded carpet. As he pulls away, he nuzzles your nose against his, staring at you through lowered lids, "Thank you."
"You're very welcome," you nod, both of you making it back to full height, "Happy birthday."
You relight the candles on the table and nuke the plates of food, topping off each others plastic flutes with the left over Prosecco. There's three cases of beer in the fridge and you know Gareth is bringing Absinthe and it's something you pray doesn't mess your boyfriend up too much.
Dinner is the best meal Eddie's had in years, unable to keep his eyes off of you in between bites while you rehash your day and him, his. You're picking up the dishes off the table when the boys show up and they deliver. Taking the heat off you, they provide the snacks and even more extra booze. Jeff passes out party hats that make you all look ridiculous -- Eddie can remember laughing this much on his birthday, not even when he was a kid. Not even when his mama was alive.
After the oneshot completes and everyone is ankles deep in a tipsy haze and the smoke from a few joints lingers in the air, you walk in with the cake that is finally frosted -- the 2 and 5 confetti colored candles dancing in front of him while the rest sparkle in the middle of the coffee table. He makes one thousand wishes that he knows will come true because his friends are all still there with him and so are you. You're one room right over, cutting the cake and plating it up, and you'll be there when the boys leave in your skimpy nerdy costume that you bought just for him. And you'll be there while he sleeps and you'll be there when he wakes up. You'll be there across from him the next morning when he feeds you fries dipped in chocolate shake at the diner.
Today is Eddie Munson's birthday.
And his mother's buttercream frosting is the sweetest it's ever tasted.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfiction#the boy is mine challenge#eddie munson x y/n
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