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#i was gone for a long time so idk if is someone still here :(
tanyoorine · 2 years
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yeah the past was honestly the best, but my best is what comes next
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zemnarihah · 9 months
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btw i think i may be attempting to enter into a long distance relationship w erik.
#ik nobody cares i think its annoying to constantly talk abt ur dating life on here#but like. this is my diary. so.#basically the deal is.i may very well be setting myself up for failure and heartbreak. but also i will regret it for the rest of my life#if i dont try#he feels important. like this feels different than it rlly ever has before. he felt important before i ever had any romantic feelings.#and like. idk if it was just bc i was so emotionally exhausted from all like the processing feelings and talking abt them and stuff but#he slept over. and i can NEVER sleep if someone is in my bed. but i slept really well. like literally in his arms i have NEVER been able to#sleep while im touching someone not once in my life.#this is so embarrassing lolll bc literally since i met him ive been talking abt him on here like 'oh my new friend i think hes into me but#im trying to just be friends' well. mission failed.#also my mom and my sister bc of COURSE any time i speak to a man its like well do you like him are you dating him. and i was like NO we are#just FRIENDS god can i just have a FRIEND#and so when i tell them. god it is going to be sooo humiliating. also he has multiple satanic tattoos so if he meets my mom....#long sleeves on that day methinks!#um anyway im getting ahead of myself. basically we had a talk yesterday abt all my doubts abt getting into a relationship when hes abt to#leave and we kind of talked through what we would do to make it work. I told him I still couldn't give him a sure answer bc when im with hi#it feels like it can work but when he was gone the other day after our first talk abt it i felt so sure it wouldnt work so i need to#sleep on it and think abt it without him there but idk i think i know my answer like at this point i feel like its worse to wonder.#i have to try yk?
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desertdragon · 2 years
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I hate raiders, mostly the hardcore's bc they're just cunts, but whenever they are in tune with looking at the game from a gameplay perspective (not just looking at logs), everything they have to report is shit I can feel even as a casual though I can't explain it as in depth as they can; and I have to agree it feels like the devs have forgotten how to make and balance a game in the last 3 years, as much as most players themselves suck at understanding and playing the fucking game (and how poor the game's learning tools and mentors are as well) since it's seen as a vehicle for story cutscenes or mashing buttons
If the gameplay keeps going dumber across the board that would take away the last legitimate reason I have to play it and surprisingly I don't like the thought of that conversation with myself
#my attitude is like half a toe in the raider mindset and half the toe in casual i can't commit to either bc i dont like either enough#but if you have a brain and have been playing as long as i have or longer its so obv we are downhill rn#Stormblood was the last time the entire game as a game felt engaging for a majority of time#ive been kinda lucky as a DRG main bc they haven't butchered it as much as others but idk how long that will last every patch#and the healing situation the last 3 years is fucking ground zero Chernobyl elephant's foot#anyone who had / has followed me long enough knew / knows i already feel this game sucks but if you make the Game part worse#then it'll Fucking Suck in a way where i don't think i could say I Hate It But I Like It anymore#it feels weird being someone who came in when Stormblood was Brand New bc i was there for all of it when the story sucked not the gameplay#then being here since is like watching the story have a seizure and the gameplay crashes into a fucking cliff outside of a few#DRGs are workhorses so if we go down too w these rework trends idk man... we're traditionally the burst#concerning to me that other classes are also revolving around bursts now plus shittier braindead buttons#homogenization sucks#i will say though im glad the frequency of LOLDRG jokes has gone down these few years bc it was never funny#its been used way too much to target and harass every DRG or if you made even one mistake- got called a lot of slurs & things bc of it#one last thing you may say There's More Than Fighting Here Wtf Are You Bitching About-#the main function of the game IS fighting it has ALWAYS been fighting its the main interface by which you play its why DF & MSQ are tied#combat is integrated into quests into dungeons into raiding into socializing into the MSQ etc whatever isn't fighting is subordinate#so yes if the combat system gets worse then that's a huge chunk of the game now shit- its not a visual novel go play a VN if you want that#now if you say the only reason i still play is bc i wanna eat Yugiri out then- *Squidward running meme*
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soarrenbluejay · 1 month
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Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.
The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.
Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!
Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!
See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!
So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!
She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.
(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)
This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.
Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.
Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.
So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.
The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!
The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.
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stevesjockstrap · 5 months
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Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad?
Based on this post
Or, Steve invites Craigslist!Eddie to Thanksgiving as his fake boyfriend for entertainment and drama purposes
Rated: T? Always with the swearing idk | read on ao3
ETA a/n: shout out to @rocknrollsalad for a direct quote in here and putting up with me and @machtaholic for encouraging this 🖤
“Are you serious?”
Steve sighed. “Yes, Robbie. You know how much my parents have been on me since they’re losing what little power they have left. This is going to be awesome.”
She was pacing around their living room, making him anxious. “But why are you going to take this stranger from Craigslist? Why can’t you find someone you know? Argyle would do it. What if this guy doesn’t show, or he comes and steals something?”
“If he doesn’t show I’m in the same boat anyhow, but hey, there’s a thought. You think I can pay him more to steal something from my parents? I’d love to see that.”
“Steve!” She rounded on him, eyes wide. “You’re paying him? You didn’t tell me that!”
“For fuck’s sake, Rob. He didn’t ask for money, the post actually said he would do it just for food. But the guy’s driving half an hour and I’m willing to bet my family is worse than he’s expecting. Sit down, you’re making me dizzy. Read this and tell me this isn’t exactly what I need.” He scrolled on his phone and handed it to her.
Her shoulders relaxed as she read on, laughing finally, “You’re not going to make him propose or fight your dad on the front lawn, right?”
“Maybe for Christmas,” he smirked.
His parent’s house was always so cold and empty. It was his childhood home but he had never really felt any attachment to it. His apartment with Robin was small and cluttered but cozy, and full of memories of them and their friends. They had done a Friendsgiving the previous weekend that had been a dangerously good time. (The smoke detector had only gone off three times, a new record.)
Running his hand through his hair again, he looked at the clock. Would Eddie show? He checked his phone again, knowing there were no missed texts because he had just looked thirty seconds ago. Why was he more nervous about meeting him than introducing him to his family? They’d had one phone call and some texts, mostly arranging the time and place and Steve already apologizing for his family.
Eddie had laughed, “It’s okay, Steve. Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse.”
He went to the bathroom, just to kill time.
And of course the doorbell rang.
He quickly washed and dried his hands, sparing a second to pull his hair into a less raked-through mess.
Quickening his pace when he saw his mom still holding the door open, not allowing whoever was on the stoop in, he craned his neck to see out the door.
Oh fuck.
“If you’d just go get him, ma’am, we could clear this all up,” Eddie was saying. The words were polite but there was an edge to them, just the tinge of a sneer on his lips. It was perfect.
“He’s mine,” he heard himself say. His mom whipped around, eyes crazed and mouth open. “Uh- I mean,” his eyes returned to Eddie standing on his doorstep. Taking in the long thick wavy hair, big brown eyes, his lips pulled into a toothy grin now. He’d clearly attempted to dress up, grey slacks and a black button down, paired with heavy combat boots. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal tattoos up his forearms and the backs of his hands. There were more tattoos on his neck, and Steve’s eyes glued themselves to the ring through his lip. Guh. “He’s, uh, here for me.”
“Hi Steve,” he watched the lips form. “Was just meeting your lovely mother.” Again there was nothing wrong with the words themselves, nothing anyone could pinpoint or take offense to. But that slithery way he said it with a razor sharp sting, Steve was impressed. He was clearly an expert at this.
Steve tried to school his own expression and voice. “My apologies. Mom, this is Eddie, my boyfriend.”
There was a long silence where he thought his mom was going to combust. She opened and closed her mouth several times, her eyebrows furrowed. He’d never seen her speechless before.
Eddie sent him a smirk and he almost matched it but his mom looked at him finally and stammered, “Y-your, ah, I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and pulled in a steadying breath. When she opened them she asked, “He’s your boyfriend?”
“Yes ma’am,” Eddie answered from almost behind her now as she turned to question Steve.
“And why is it you didn’t tell us he was coming? Why is he ringing the doorbell like a stranger?”
“I, um, well I did think he’d text when he got here or something…” Steve started, meeting Eddie’s eyes over her shoulder.
“What, and miss out on this warm welcome?” Eddie winked at him but quickly settled his face when his mom turned to him. Doing the exact thing he’d hoped for, Mrs. Harrington remembering she’s leaving a guest out on her doorstep.
Steve delighted in the fact that this was going to be a chess match and his mother was already several moves behind.
Her eyes narrowed and she held a hand out to welcome Eddie in, walking them all into the foyer. “Well, don’t let me stop you, go ahead and greet your boyfriend, Steven.”
It was a challenge, he knew, but they hadn’t discussed this. Eddie was on the ball, however. He continued his momentum to slide a hand under Steve’s suit jacket to settle on his ribs and the other he brought up to cup his face, leaning in and angling their heads together. Steve tried to relax and closed his eyes. Eddie pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, but from where his mom was standing she wouldn’t be able to tell.
“Hey, baby. Missed you,” he breathed when he pulled away. Steve was halfway to believing this himself.
“Yeah,” he sighed stupidly.
Eddie pulled his hands away and he almost reached back for them before stopping himself with a shake. He found he’d only gone a foot away when he opened his eyes though. Oh he was in trouble.
His mother cleared her throat from behind Eddie like she hadn’t put them up to this. Steve reached out for his hand and held onto it.
“Okay so I’m going to go introduce him to everyone else,” he said quickly and walked further into the house. Holding his hand.
They made their way through the dining room, Steve taking more and more pleasure with each stilted interaction Eddie weaved through with his family members.
His dad was propped in the living room with his uncle and Steve could feel his eyes on him as they made their way around. He knew his mother had ran to tell him all about it but he wouldn’t take being ignored well. It was making his skin crawl but he knew it would further piss off his dad so he kept it up.
After everyone else had been formally introduced to Eddie and Steve had gulped half a glass of wine, he felt almost ready to go deal with him. He took Eddie’s hand again and turned, but navigated them to the sliding glass door and outside instead.
It was chilly, late November in Indiana, but it felt amazing after the stuffiness of the house.
Steve remembered he still had Eddie’s hand in his and he quickly dropped it. “Uh, you smoke?”
Eddie grinned, all teeth and tongue as he held a battered pack of Newports out to him. “Not usually, really, but it makes for a good prop. Sorry they’re shit.”
“Holy shit. You’re amazing. I mean- perfect, I mean- fuck.” Steve laughed and shook his head. “The on-the-spot fact checking of my aunt’s political shit was next level. You could do this year round and make a killing, man.” He did pull a cigarette out of the pack and Eddie leaned into him, clicking the lighter for him, meeting his eyes as Steve sucked in.
“I don’t-“
The door slid open behind them and Mr. Harrington walked out.
“Looks like you and your date are avoiding me, Steven,” he said. Steve watched as he gave Eddie a very slow up and down look.
“No, dad. Just needed a break. It’s warm in there.” He made his face remain neutral. It’s not like anyone was cooking anything, his mom always got their big family meals catered.
His dad narrowed his eyes at him as he held eye contact, taking a drag from his bummed cigarette.
“Where is Robin today?”
He sighed. “With her family, dad. And for the last time, I’m not dating Robin. She’s a lesbian. This is Eddie, by the way. My date? He’s my boyfriend.”
When Steve had tried to come out as bisexual to his parents, his dad especially had made it clear that he did not accept that about his only child. As the years went on and he hadn’t spoken much about this part of his life, it seemed his dad had hoped it just went away.
Mr. Harrington scoffed, “I don’t understand why you want to throw your life away, Steven. I thought we’d raised you better-“ Eddie made a noise next to him and Steve knew he couldn’t look at him or he’d burst out laughing.
“Save it, dad. Believe it or not I love my life. Which is something I’d never thought I would be able to say. Can you even say that?”
His dad shook his head disappointedly and walked back inside.
“Excellent job. I don’t think you need me here after all,” Eddie joked.
Steve propped himself against the wall of the house, deeply tired from having to defend his choices to his dad for the umpteenth time.
“Maybe not need. But it’s been really fun having you here. Usually dinner conversation is about how big of a disappointment I am. Oh, I guess I didn’t give you that backstory. I’m graduating with my masters in psychology in the spring, and I’ve been early accepted into a PhD program. And there’s no money in helping people,” he chuckled. “So.” He scuffed out the butt with his heel and left it on his dad’s pristine patio.
“Steve. That’s amazing! Congratulations.” Eddie seemed genuinely excited for him and it brought a small smile to his face. “You look like you could really use a hug, man. Can I hug you?”
“Of course.” If he let himself hold on for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary, Eddie allowed it.
Dinner was quiet. His uncle asked Eddie what he did for work and he enthusiastically explained he was a line cook and worked nights at a bar. Steve surreptitiously looked around to take in everyone’s expressions and quickly covered his mouth with his napkin. He actually enjoyed himself during a holiday dinner for the first time he could remember.
Eddie at one point threw an arm around the back of his chair and he leaned in a bit into him, catching the disapproving stares they got from the corner of his eye.
Pie was passed around and by then Steve had had another glass of wine or two. He reached over to thumb the whipped cream from the side of Eddie’s lip without thinking, before popping the thumb into his own mouth. Eddie’s eyes widened and it was on the tip of his tongue to apologize but he caught himself.
“Thanks, babe,” Eddie said with a chuckle.
After saying their awkward goodbyes to everyone, Steve walked Eddie to his van. He looked down at his feet, fiddling with his keys.
“Hey, um, this may be out of left field and let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Eddie waited for Steve to nod. “Do you want to come to my uncle’s with me tomorrow night? It’s just the two of us and he always volunteers to work the holiday. But we do a thing, you know. A-and he’s always bugging me to bring someone.”
Steve blinked. “Would it have to be a fake date? I’m not as skilled at that as you are.”
“No, I mean, it wouldn’t- god I suck. I’m actually asking, like for real. If that’s okay? Just be you. And I’ll just be me.”
“That’s very okay. I’d really like that.” He couldn’t hold back his smile. Taking the chance, he leaned in, Eddie meeting him in the middle to finally press their lips together.
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darthannie · 7 months
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thesis statement
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Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader Summary: You accidentally bump into your Professor, Jim, at a sex shop. Word count: 3.3k Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is ~25, Jim is ~45), alcohol consumption (a few sips of wine), kissing, praise, soft dom! Jim kinda, fingering, p in v, Jim takes his time, a smidge of cockwarming, idk what else to put here! a/n: There will probably be a part two where they explore their little arrangement a bit more. Maybe it'll turn into something longer. I love Jim sm. I also want him to FUCK you know. We’ll get there, but I was feeling a lil soft. Also hmmm i wonder why Jim was at the sex shop in the first place.
It was around 5 pm on a Sunday and you were really in need of something new. Very in need. Your old toy just wasn’t cutting it anymore. To remedy this it was time for a trip to Deluxxx, your neighborhood sex shop. Your friend, Nadia, knew someone who worked there and you’d go there for all your wants and needs. You strolled in and gave a wave to the person behind the counter. 
“Hey, David! How’s the shop been treating ya?”
They looked around at the empty shop, “Hey! It’s slow but I can’t complain. What are you in for?” 
You sighed, “You remember that last toy I bought?“ 
”No way, does it suck?! It was so expensive.” 
“No, no it’s great! Gets the job done, waterproof, 10 settings-“ 
“So what’s the problem”, they asked.
You gestured in front of yourself with both hands, “It’s just… a little too small?"
They laughed and threw their head back. “Of course. Well lucky for you we got something new in recently that you might like. It’s in the back aisle, bottom shelf.” 
You thanked them and made your way to the back. You crouched down to find the one David was telling you about. It was definitely bigger than the one you had. And thicker. It didn’t have any extra frills but that wasn’t what you were looking for. You snapped a picture and sent it to Nadia with “new bf” as the caption. You let out a little laugh that was more like an exhale as you got up. Nadia has been nagging you about needing a boyfriend and you said you were just going to buy a new one. You were still looking at your phone as you turned to exit the aisle and bumped into someone. The apology on your lips died as you recognized the person in front of you as Jim, your professor and thesis advisor. 
His jaw went slack for a moment and his eyes widened as he recognized you. You were the last person he’d expect to see there but it wasn’t an unwelcome sight. He enjoyed teaching you, not knowing whether it was your interest in the subject or the fact he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He broke eye contact for a moment, scanned your body, took note of the item in your hand, and then met your eyes again. You were suddenly very aware of your surroundings and before anyone could say anything he cleared his throat, said “Excuse me” and walked past you.
You would be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive and it was becoming clear why you did not have a boyfriend. You wanted him. This wasn’t a new revelation by any means. Nadia was in the same class as you, and she bugged you about it almost daily. You hadn’t expected him to find you in such a vulnerable position. You collected yourself and walked swiftly to the counter and paid. Jim was long gone. You said your goodbyes to David and you texted Nadia to let her know what happened.
She called you almost immediately and opened by saying, “So you know you gotta fuck him now. Like you have to. You don’t have an option. You MUST”. You laughed. There was absolutely no way Jim wanted you. You let her know as much and she disagreed. 
“There’s no way he doesn’t want you. Come on. All the silent stares in class. Asking you to stay after. Constant emailing about things that have nothing to do with class. I mean who just emails their student a TED talk because they thought of them? All signs point to him wanting you. AND what about that one day where you teased him about not having a ring on his finger, and he just said I’m working on it? You know there was this smile he gave you afterward that I don’t think you caught. You were too busy hiding the blush on your face”
“I know I know.” You relented, “I don’t know, it just seems so far-fetched!” 
You knew that was the logical response but something was telling you Nadia was right. He had to have known that his voice sent a shiver down your spine. That you wanted him to take you right there on the table after class. You had caught him staring during class. Maybe she had a point. You couldn’t help but wonder if he really did want you too. 
Later on in the day, you got into the shower. Scalding hot water hit your back. You couldn’t help but recount the events from earlier. He had lingered, looked at the item in your hand, and raised an eyebrow. You would’ve been embarrassed if he didn’t already feel so familiar. 
Soft music played as you lathered a silky body wash along your body. Your mind started to wander, thinking about what it would be like if it were his hands instead of yours. You rinsed off the soap, running your hands over your arms and breasts all while imagining they were his. You turned off the water, dried off, and headed towards the bag you placed on your small table.
You unpackaged your new toy and went back to the bathroom to clean it. Getting back to bed, you lied down and opened up an incognito tab on your phone. You looked for some porn to watch. Once you found an adequate video, you relaxed and continued to watch. The man in the video touched the woman’s body in all the right places. He laid her down and kissed up her thighs before starting to eat her out. This was enough for you to start teasing yourself with the toy, feeling the weight of it on your clit. Suddenly the video was unnecessary. All you could think about was Jim.
You positioned it just right and started to insert it. You gasped as you felt how it stretched you out. This was what you needed. You paused the video, throwing your phone on the side to focus on the task at hand. You put the rest of it inside you and let yourself adjust to the size. You began to move the toy as you thought of him. You wondered if he felt this good. He had to feel better than this. You got off that night thinking about him and only him. When you finally came down from your high you grabbed some water, cleaned your toy, and got straight to bed. 
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You didn’t want what happened yesterday to impact your experience in class so you decided to just go on like nothing happened. 
You headed to the bathroom and began going through the movements of the morning. Before you knew it you were by the building where class was held. A bit further down the sidewalk was Jim walking from the opposite direction. The both of you got to the door at the same time. He didn’t say a thing. He just gave you a polite, awkward smile as he opened the door for you. You returned the smile and walked in. Side by side you walked to the classroom. This time you opened the door for him. You watched as he entered and mentally prepared yourself to take a class. It was just the two of you in the room. You sat at the round table with your laptop in front of you trying your best to seem busy.
He broke the silence, “Did you have a nice weekend?”
You summoned a response, “Yes, actually, I was able to spend some time with myself.”
He quipped back, “Oh, I’m sure you were.” 
Your eyes widened trying to process what he said. He let out a light chuckle as another student arrived. The class was full within the next five minutes. Nadia walked in and looked between you and him. She smirked at you. The air was buzzing for the next two hours. You could cut the tension between you two if you tried hard enough. You asked and answered questions like usual. Each time you spoke he paid extra attention to you. When class ended you began gathering your things slowly, hoping you were the last in the class. Nadia leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Just don’t do it by my seat.” You gave her a light slap on the arm and she laughed. Then, it was just you and him. He approached you and spoke softly. 
“Listen, I apologize if I overstepped a boundary with the joke I made earlier. I thought it would help ease the tension if, I don’t know-“ 
“It’s alright, Professor. We’re both mature adults who can bump into each other at a sex shop and move on with our lives.” You got up ready to leave but he spoke.
“Since when am I Professor?”, he asked. 
You looked at him confused. He clarified, “Since when do you call me Professor? You never call me Professor.”
You cleared your throat, “Well I just thought we should reestablish a professional boundary since the- you know. Keep the personal and the professional separate.”
He looked at you, pensive for a moment. He moved a bit closer to you. “Well, what if we don’t keep it separate?” 
Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening. “Are you serious?”
“Very.” He lowered his voice a bit and moved closer. He ran his hand down your arm.  His mouth was now near your ear. There was no chance someone else was going to hear him, but he whispered anyway. “I think you should come over tonight. If you want to.” 
“Yeah, I want to.” You mentally cursed yourself for caving in so quickly.  
“How’s seven?, he asked.
“Seven’s good.” Your head was spinning. This was happening.
“I’ll also need your number so I can send you the address.” He handed you his phone with a new contact page open. You entered it in, gave him a shy smile, and turned to leave.
He grabbed your wrist before you were able to move away from him. “By the way, leave your new purchase at home. You’re not going to need it.” 
Summoning some courage, you leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t close the gap all the way. “Let’s save it for tonight.”, he said as he pulled away. He gathered his things without looking at you and left. 
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When you returned home you threw your stuff down and immediately called Nadia. “I KNEW IT!" she yelled. “I KNEW that’s why you hung back. God, it was so tense between you two.”
“You could tell?” You didn’t think it was that obvious until she chuckled and said that everyone could tell. The rest of the conversation consisted of Nadia giving you a pep talk and making her promise you’d tell her everything.  
As time passed you got more nervous. Around six you received a text from him telling you to wear something comfortable, along with his address. You sent a very quick response and, per his request, put on something comfortable. It would end up on the floor anyway. He didn’t live very far from you, which was lucky. You wondered if this would be a one-time thing. What would class be like now? I graduate soon anyway, you thought. If this all went south you could just forget it happened. You got to his apartment a couple of minutes before 7 and he let you up. When you got to the door you knocked twice and waited.
You’d never seen him so casual and… nervous. “Please, come in! You can put your things wherever you’d like,” he said. 
You looked around at his apartment. You could tell a professor lived there. Bookshelves lined the walls. On the dining table, there was a bottle of wine with two glasses. You put down your bag near the door. You didn’t know what to do with your hands. He noticed your apprehension. 
“Do you like wine? I got a nice Malbec after class today. Thought we could crack open a bottle.” 
“Yes, I’d like that very much.”
“Nerves?”
“Yeah.”, you confirmed.
“Me too. But, uh, there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me.”
He smiled and the tension in your body slipped away. It was replaced by a sense of calm. Jim was letting you into his home, and into his life. You sat down at the table and he removed the cord from the bottle. You watched his hands work, feeling eager to get them on you. But that had to wait, he was about to take his time. He poured you and himself a glass. You sat across from him and took a sip, hoping its effects would be immediate. 
“I’m glad you came. You know, I thought you’d think I was too old for you.” And he might’ve been. Twenty years was a healthy gap but it wasn’t anything you wouldn’t indulge in. Hell, if you could, you’d date him. 
“Not at all.” You replied. “I can’t lie, I’ve been thinking about it all year.”
“About what?”, he pushed.
“About… seeing you.”
“You can say it.” He noticed your blush. 
“I want to hear you say it.”, he egged you on.
You sighed, trying to muster up the words. “I’ve been thinking about… being with you all year.”
“And doing what?”, he took another sip of his wine and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to say it?”
“Yes.”, There was no way you would be able to admit it to him fully.
“You want your professor to fuck you. You want me to take you to my room, undress you, and take care of you better than anyone ever has.”
Your face was red. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” You drank from your glass. 
“Come here.”, he spoke softly and you got up. “Straddle me, love.” 
You sat on his lap and he looked up at you, grinning ear to ear. He brought his hand up to your neck and pulled you down to kiss him. It was brief. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. Then he kissed you again. And, again. Then, he started kissing your neck. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan as you felt him getting hard underneath you. He kissed and nipped at your skin. His hands reached the hem of your shirt and he pulled it off before you could register it happening. Once it did, you helped him out of his. 
He tapped your ass a couple times, silently saying get up. He walked you backward and pushed you up against a nearby wall. He started removing a bra strap, but you stopped him.
“Well don’t get shy on me now.”, he chuckled. “Come.” He reached out his hand and you grabbed it. He led you down the hall to his bedroom and you sat down on the bed. You took your cues from him. As he started to lean over, you began to lay down. His hand was unhooking your bra with one hand. He was finicking with it and after a few moments, it was off. The cool air hitting your nipples caused them to rise. Jim kissed you again, then kissed down your neck, and finally put his hands on you. He licked, sucked, and grabbed your breasts. 
“You’re so beautiful. Even more gorgeous than I could have imagined. Baby, I need to taste you.” 
You wanted to protest but your pants were already coming off. Your panties followed. He groaned, “Fuck, baby, all this for me?
Before you could respond he kissed the inside of your thigh, then down, down, down until he reached your pussy. You were so wet for him already. He used his fingers first, wanting to feel you first. 
“You always get this wet for your Professor?”
“Yes.”, you responded breathlessly. His fingers were moving in and out of you. Slowly at first and then faster. He hit that perfect spot each time. Then he added his mouth. This time he didn’t go slow. He was licking and sucking on your clit. You moaned out his name and he smiled. He ate you out like his life depended on it. No one had ever done this to you. No one had ever paid this much attention to your body. You were a whimpering mess. His hand found its way back to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He then squeezed, hard, which made you load loudly. 
“Please Jim, I’m gonna cum.”, you plead. 
 He got you close to the edge and then pulled away. You whimpered at the loss of him. “Please, keep going.”
“No, if you’re gonna cum, I’m gonna be inside of you.” He took off the rest of his clothing. You moaned at the sight of him. He was right. You would never need the toy again. You couldn’t wait for him to be inside of you. He knew this and instead decided to tease you with his cock. He dragged it along you and tapped your clit the same way you did with your toy at home. Only this was a hundred times better.  
He nipped at your ear and whispered. “You really want it, huh?”
“Yes,” you begged “It’s all I want.” 
He grinned and entered you slowly and without warning. Your jaw dropped slightly. You couldn’t even make a sound, you were too busy with the feeling of him filling you up entirely. He let out a sigh and grabbed your chin.
“Look at me. Open your eyes. Look at me while I fuck you.” You did as he said. He started to pick up the pace. He was making this intimate. He caressed your face and made almost as much noise as you did. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl, following directions. Ready for another one?” You nodded. 
“Get on top. Sit down on my cock.” You started moving before he even finished his sentence. There was no room for shyness anymore. He sat up against the headboard as you sunk down on him; the new angle was doing wonders for the both of you. He thrusted up, wanting to feel more of you. He held you close to him as you began to ride him. 
“You sure know how to treat a girl, Professor.”, you said breathlessly.
He chuckled and kissed you. “You sure know how to treat your Professor. You’re being so good for me. Such a good girl.”
His hand found its way back to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles. He wanted to make sure you came first.
And you did.
It came in waves. You felt it build up and told him you were close. Then, you fell apart. You pulled him close and kissed him passionately. He wrapped his arms around you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you came. 
“That’s it, baby. So, so good for me. God, such a pretty little thing.“ He took control, holding you up and thrusting into you. The sensation was almost too much to bear. 
“Where do you want it.”, he asked.
“Inside. Please. I’m on the-“
“Are you sure, love?” You could tell he couldn’t wait any longer. 
You begged, “Yes. Yes, I am, just please cum inside me.”
And he did.
He filled you to the brim. You felt him twitch inside of you as his hips stuttered. He held onto you so tightly you were sure it would leave marks. You were both breathing hard. He stayed inside of you and held you against him. He put his forehead against yours as you regained your breath. 
He kissed you again, this time not wanting to pull away. But, you did. You pulled yourself off of him and laid down as the realization of what you did started sinking in. He lied down next to you and stared at the ceiling.
Silence. And after a few moments, you turned your head and spoke.
“So, is this it?” It came out more timid than you would have liked it to. 
He gave you a look you couldn’t quite place and after a moment he said, “Oh, love, you’re mine now.”
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Text
if u think i’m pretty || chris sturniolo
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SMUT. 18+. Minors DNI. tw: hate fucking. lots of it. bickering while fucking? idk you get the gist. finally got around to writing about chris. can you believe i scrapped like 5 fics? 🥴 yeah me either! also, sequel with matt if yall want it ;)
“Christopher fucking Sturniolo!”
Your words were laced with venom, the staircase rumbling beneath you as you stomped upstairs. Faintly you could hear Matt call out for you, your mind too filled with rage to hear him properly.
Pornographic moans flooded your eardrums as you reached Chris’s room, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. Your closed fist rattled his door, the dramatic moans coming to a screeching halt.
“Open the fucking door dickwad!” You screamed. Impatiently you tapped your foot, deciding he was taking too long. You grabbed the door handle, (surprised to find it unlocked), and swung the door open.
It was almost comical watching Chris and a girl you didn’t know scramble to get themselves dressed.
“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Chris spat, shoving his gray sweatpants on. For a brief moment you felt bad for the girl, her waterline filling with tears. She was just one of many you had seen this week. You grabbed a shirt you presumed to be hers, handing it to her. You took a deep breath, containing your anger as you looked at her.
“Please get dressed and for the love of God, find someone better to fuck,” You sighed. The blonde was gone in a flash, practically sprinting out of Chris’s room. You crossed your arms, shooting lasers out of your eyes as you glared at the brunette across from you. Oh, only if looks could kill.
“I’m not believing my phone magically teleported into the dishwasher of all places,” You snarled. Your phone had been missing for six hours straight, your iphones location still saying it was at the triplets house. You had dragged Matt and Nick all around their house, searching from the ceiling to the floor. When you had finally accepted defeat, you had opened the dishwasher to grab a bowl to make a snack.
And to your displeasure, your phone was sopping wet, sitting in plain sight on the rack.
“You have zero proof I did that, literally zero,” Chris argued. Your eyes briefly flickered to his exposed chest, the amount of skin throwing you off. You shook your head, showing Chris your ruined phone. “Really? Because I can’t recall the last time you did dishes but you magically did them last night,” You snapped. Chris shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk creeping across his lips.
“What can I say? I figured i’d help out the household,”
That’s it.
You chucked your phone at him, the brunette dodging the attack by seconds. It was ruined away, even the rice method was unable to save your phone. It smacked against the wall, the sound making Chris jump. “Maybe your phone wouldn’t be ruined if you weren’t having very LOUD phone sex with your boyfriend!” Chris yelled. You threw your hands up in the air, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? Why would I ever-” You began arguing, before it clicked.
You weren’t having phone sex with anyone, that was for sure. But you stayed over at the Sturniolo household frequently, to the point where you were there more often than you were home. As much as Chris drove you insane, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. The concept of the attraction being forbidden, soured by years and years of bickering, did something inside of you.
You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, even though you didn’t want it to. Chris snickered at your loss of words, shooting you a genuine smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teased. In a swift motion you dashed across the room, your palm connecting with his cheek. Your tension with Chris had never gone beyond yelling. He had never crawled under your skin so much before, embarrassment seeping over you as you thought about the whole house hearing what he said.
A long pause silenced the room, the sound of the slap echoing through out your ears. Chris took a moment to process what you had just done, before his sharp gaze meant yours. His hand flew to your throat, gripping the sides as he threw you against the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your body in fight or flight mode. He easily towered over you, his sharp blue eyes filled with rage.
“You’re such a fucking whore,” Chris grumbled. He squeezed the sides of your neck harder, a whimper escaping your lips. His grip loosened, his attention fully dedicated to the sound you had made. The brunette tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he hadn’t believed what he just heard. “Did you just whimper?” He questioned. You shook your head no, Chris’s knee spreading your legs apart. Testing the waters, he brought his face closer to yours.
“You know, your little stunt prevented me from finishing earlier. Perhaps you’d like to help me out,” Chris purred, the glint of lust in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. You rolled your eyes, your heart beginning to race as his body pressed against yours. “If you’re going to kiss me get on with it before I change my mind,” You said plainly. Chris’s grip on your throat tightened, your airway becoming restricted.
“You’ve always been a mouthy one,” He muttered, roughly bringing his lips to yours.
Chris hated how good you tasted, how good you smelled. He hated how your skin always looked so soft, your lips so plump. He despised how confident you were, always charging into everything in your life head first. What Chris actually liked, was that you challenged him. He knew that his infatuation with you wasn’t actually feelings, just raw and untamed lust. But fuck, with your lips against his, it made him want to change his mind.
The two of you clawed off each other’s clothes, discarding the clothing to the floor. Chris’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, before sliding inside. His kisses were rough and sloppy, your body addicted to the electricity he made run down your spine. You pushed him harshly against the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress underneath him.
You straddled him quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. Ever so slowly you grinded your wet cunt against his exposed shaft, a groan escaping his lips. Chris cockily put his hands behind his head, admiring you. “Go ahead, get yourself off just by grinding on me. You can do it pretty girl,” Chris instructed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks at the sound of his praise, your hips moving seemingly on their own.
Curses left your lips as you threw your head back. “Making me get myself off since you can’t do it? Figures,” You managed to say, your movements becoming more desperate. Chris leaned forward on his elbows, watching your cunt slide up and down his shift. “I’d watch your words ma, i’ll overstimulate you until you’re nothing but a cock craving whore,” Chris warned. His warning felt real, the threat in it seeking genuinely true. Even if you didn’t want to believe it.
Chris bit his bottom lip as you shamelessly grinded against him, every little movement providing pleasure to your clit. “You really think i’d fuck as many girls as I do if I couldn’t make them cum? I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Chris said coldly, mockingly tilting his head to the side. Your gaze landed back on the man beneath you, ignoring his cock in between your folds. “Yeah? I thought I was supposed to be overstimulated by now. What happened to that?” You challenged.
He was quick to change positions, your back landing against the mattress before you could think. He roughly spread your thighs apart, shoving two fingers into your cunt. A gasp of surprise was ripped from your throat, his spare hand resuming its place as your personal collar. Chris’s name spilled off of your lips as his fingers curled inside of you, his name becoming a sinful mantra. “What happened? Not so cocky now are we?” Chris taunted, watching you fall apart on his fingers.
The sight of you was enough to make his cock throb, his body craving attention. Chris remained focused, determined to corrupt you. “Open your fucking mouth slut,” Chris ordered. You so without a second thought, flattening your tongue across your bottom lip. He gripped your face harshly, leaning over and spitting into your mouth. “Swallow it,” He growled, watching you intently. You did as you were told, swallowing his saliva. You felt humiliated as it slid down your throat, the feeling euphoric.
“Thats a good girl, now why don’t you cum on my fingers for me? Hmm?” Chris asked. His words of praise made the rope inside of you snap, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling as Chris removed his fingers from your aching cunt. You watched as he sucked them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.
Still coming down from your high, you put every last bit of energy into rolling your eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or just stare?” You asked. Chris’s cocky smile fell, replaced with a frown. “Nothings ever good enough for you, is it?” He replied, crawling on top of you. He brushed the tip of his cock up and down your folds teasingly, enjoying hearing you audibly whine for him. “Why’d you destroy my phone?” You asked, your coherent thoughts interrupted by him shoving himself inside of you.
You both moaned in unison, the unholy sounds vibrating off of the walls. “Why’d you decide to have phone sex in my house?” Chris gritted out, sliding himself further into you. He had more girth than you expected, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I asked you first dipshit,” You spat, fighting back a groan as he slid in further. Chris could feel your walls spasming around his cock, the sensation enough to make him cum right then and there. But he knew you’d never let him live it down.
“Yeah? Well I asked you second,” Chris replied, bottoming out inside of you. The tip of his shaft brushed against your g spot, the slightest movement of his hips making you whimper. “If you must know I wasn’t having phone sex, dumbass,” You said honestly. Chris pulled his hips back at a teasing rate, entertaining the argument. “Yeah? So what were you doing?” He questioned, doubting what you were saying. His hips bucked back into yours, hitting your g spot purposefully slow. He was drawing his thrust out, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath him.
“I-I was thinking of you, alright? Now are you going to fuck me or what?” You rambled, embarrassed by your confession. Chris paused for a moment, soaking in your words. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Is that so? Well, I destroyed your phone because I got jealous. You belong under me, just like this, taking my cock,” Chris purred, ignoring the embarrassment of his own confession. He pulled back slightly, allowing the two of you to make eye contact.
Out of breath and desperate, both of you panted as you stared into each other’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you better get on with it,” You said weakly. The same cocky smile that you hated plastered across his lips, his hips bucking into yours quickly. Your nails dug into his back as his hips continued to slam into yours, his cock buried inside of your cunt. Chris couldn’t hold back his own groans, your walls milking his cock dry.
With glazed eyes he met your gaze, relishing in the sound of your groans, chanting his name. “Open your mouth for me,” He ordered, his cock abusing your cervix. Chris enjoyed that you didn’t hesitate, obeying him without a second thought. He put two fingers into your mouth, shoving them as far back as he could. “Now fucking suck them slut,” He growled. With each degrading word you squeezed him harder, your body snitching on your hidden desire.
“You look so pretty like this, when you aren’t yapping that mouth of yours,” He huffed. A painful whine came from his lips, your nails purposefully digging deeper into his back. You pathetically bobbed your head up and down on his fingers, concealing your smirk as you heard him in audible pain. Chris slithered his spare hand down to your cunt, drawing fast and sloppy circles around your clit.
“Go on, cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are for me,” Chris panted. The extra sensation was enough to make you throw your head back, Chris’s fingers still lodged in your mouth. Your warning of your orgasm was muffled, your thighs shaking violently under him. The sight was going to be burned into Chris’s memory forever, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him giving him an undeniable ego boost. He fucked you through your orgasm, becoming preoccupied with chasing his own.
His fingers roughly grabbed your waist, fucking you rougher. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” He admitted. Chris watched, mesmerized as his cock slid in and out of your cunt. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his hips beginning to stutter. You grabbed him by his throat, dragging him towards you. You put your mouth next to his ear, smirking as you told him, “Inside of me.”
You filthy fuck. For the first time your name fell from Chris’s lips as he came, his warm seed flooding your cunt. In unison you both tried to catch your breath, Chris carefully slipping out of you. The room was silent, besides desperate breathing, a knock came from Chris’s door.
“Yeah?”
“Your uh, doordash is here dude,” Matt said awkwardly. You could hear him place a bag in front of his bedroom door. “Thanks,” Chris replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“Hey Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time maybe fuck a little quieter, Nicks pretty pissed.”
You exchanged glances with Chris, watching as he shoved on a shirt.
“You heard him, be quiet next time,”
“Next time? There won’t be a next time. Mr.I lasted thirty seconds.”
The sound of you two bickering made Matt roll his eyes, causing him to walk away. He wondered if you both would ever get married, or if you both would hate fuck forever. He shrugged at the idea, heading back downstairs. All Matt knew for sure, was that your moans made him cum the hardest he ever had. And that, was enough for him.
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outro-jo · 1 year
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skz pushing you away
pairing: skz x reader
type: scenario
warnings: poor communication and relationship dynamics (serious red flags), angst?, idk of anything else
request: sorta
a/n: so the original concept presented was if w skz rejected your affections, it upset you and you left but as per usual i took ✨creative liberties✨ please read info before requesting
masterlist | info
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chan- chris was the one that invited you to the studio but he didn’t realize just how stressed he was. you arrived with food and kisses but he immediately shrugged both off with a slight edge in his voice as he told you that he had to get this done. you maintained your peppy demeanor as you took a seat on the sofa and were happy just to scroll through you phone and be with him. felix has popped a head in to talk to chris but actually struck up a conversation with you as soon as he noticed you on the couch. more uptight than even he expected chris suddenly snapped. “look, i have to finish our fucking album in less than 48 hours! can you two take this somewhere else?!” you and felix stared at each other wide eyed for a minute before sheepishly following each other out of the room. the two of you kept talking like nothing happened. the pressure rarely gets to your boyfriend like this and while he does get upset at times, he’s never yelled at either of you like that. just this once, you both were willing to give him a pass. what you didn’t realize was how long you had been out there talking when chris suddenly ran out of the room. he almost fell over in relief when he saw the two of you still in the hallway. “oh, thank god you’re both here. i really need to apologize. i shouldn’t have snapped like that. it was awful of m—“ “chris, baby, we’re fine. i promise we’re not upset.” you reassured him. “yeah, mate, i know if it wasn’t for you this album wouldn’t be finished. no harm done. all good, cuz.” felix chimed in, hugging his hyung then you before saying his goodbyes. when you were alone again, chris caressed your cheek, stroking it with his thumb and rested his forehead on yours. “don’t ever let me speak to you like that again. wack me on the head real good, yeah?” he breathed out a chuckle. “oh, i won’t but i know you won’t do it again. gave you a good scare, huh?” you giggled at his reaction earlier. chris let out a laugh at himself and wrapped his arm around your shoulder to lead you back to the studio. “yeah, i really panicked there for a minute. i thought you’d really gone.” “nah, you can’t get rid of me. you can make it up to me with cuddles though.” you teased him. “oh, i absolutely will. just let me finish this up.” he nodded towards the set up. “take your time. i’ll be right here, love.”
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lee know- your boyfriend was not someone to be messed with when he was angry and he was currently in one of the biggest arguments he’d ever had with one of the other members. the others were calling it nuclear and unfortunately none of them had given you a warning. when he came home, still fuming, you excitedly rushed up to him like you usually do, peppering his face with kisses until he threw you off. “god! i can’t have any fucking space!” minho snapped before storming back into the bedroom, leaving you teary eyed on the floor. never had you seen him like this and never had he treated you like that before. he loved your kisses, cuddles, and hugs even on his worst day. it left you confused and emotional to say the least. so you pulled on your jacket and shoes, leaving before he could come out, possibly hurting you again. if it’s space he wanted, it’s space he would get. you didn’t really know where you were going and you didn’t even grab your wallet or cell phone. tears blurred your vision as you walked around the city streets. by accident you’d grabbed your boyfriend’s jacket and when you reached into the pocket finding a little cash so you went into the convenience store to get yourself a snack to make yourself feel better. it was the least he could do after all and if he made a big deal about it, you can always pay him back. you took your treat and walked over to the playground nearby, enjoying it on the swing. the sky above you got darker and after some time you figured you should face the music at home. opening the door, you braced yourself for angry minho but were met with broken minho. he looked up at you from the couch, eyes glazed over with tears as he quickly got up, pulling you into his arms. “i’m sorry, baby. i’m so sorry.” he repeated over and over. your body was stiff against him in shock. “minho, what happened? what’s going on?” “i tried calling and texting you. i should have never done that to you.” he pulled back quickly, inspecting all over your body. “did i hurt you? do you have any bruises?” “probably my bum.” you pushed him off you and made your way to the couch. minho stood there dejected, shoulders slumping. “i probably deserved that” he mumbled. “yeah… a little.” you sighed, trying not to punish him too much. “babe, come talk to me. why were you so upset?” you pat the space on the sofa next to you. soon minho laid with his head in your lap telling you everything about the argument he’d had earlier and the two of you found a solution. he spent the rest of the night apologizing and making it up to you.
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changbin- binnie was really bad at communicating.  lately he was overwhelmed with work and didn’t really know how to tell you that he was going on tour so he just kinda distanced himself. you noticed he was staying at the dorms more and when he was around he wasn’t as receptive to you affections as he usually was. at first you didn’t think much of it and to compensate for him pulling away, you started doing the most. you had food delivered to the dorms just to get a “thanks” text in return. you ordered the exercise equipment he was looking at online and all he did was kiss your temple. the final straw was when you actually went over to the dorms to cook them all dinner and watch a movie. changbin was feeling like absolute garbage by now for how you were treating him like a prince but he kept pushing you away. he was almost in tears and when the movie started, you happily cuddled into him, laying you head on his chest. he could have cracked right then, but instead he held it together and just moved you off him. the gesture was enough to have you snap… in front of everyone. “THAT’S IT SEO CHANGBIN! JUST TELL ME YOU DON’T LOVE ME! BREAK UP WITH ME, SCREAM AT ME, ANYTHING! ANYTHING IS BETTER THAN HAVE YOU DO THIS TO ME! I CAN’T DO IT ANYMORE!” once that was out of your system, you rushed from the dorm in tears. the boys all exchanged looks before checking on the group mate on the sofa. “i messed up.” he finally whispered as tears formed in his eyes. the boys gathered around him to love him as he finally broke down, chan offering encouragement and advice. you had rushed off without your things but it didn’t matter until you got to your apartment and couldn’t get in. so you sat outside the door and just cried. the gravity of what just happened hit changbin and he called you to try and fix things. your ringtone started playing. changbin grabbed your stuff scattered around the dorm and ran all the way to your apartment. he found you slumped against the door sound asleep from crying and it broke his heart. you woke up in his arms as he carried you to your bed. “binnie?” you asked groggily. “please don’t leave me. i have no right to ask that if you but i can’t lose you.” he whispered as his bottom lip trembled. “i thought you didn’t want to be with me.” you said confused. changbin held you close and finally told you what had been on his mind over the last few weeks. you promised not to leave him as long as he promised to never shut you out like that again. 
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hyunjin- poor boy, he’s just been so overwhelmed lately. he’s had a lot of opportunities arise lately and a comeback and tour and while he’s excited about all of it, there’s just so much piling up. hyunjin is the type of person that little things he’ll make a big deal about, sometimes because it’s just funny and he has a reaction to it. however, the larger, deeper issues he internalizes mostly to do with him processing. it takes him a while for him to come to anyone unless he’s very close to them. early on in your relationship he would hardly talk to you about some of the bigger things in life bothering him and would opt to go to minho or chan just because he’s known them longer. since he’s internalizing so much it’s been harder for him to be more affectionate with you. he’s not thinking too well and he’s just finding ways to distract himself to cope, meaning he’s less receptive when you try to be affectionate with him. annoyingly for you, he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. when you come home from work that evening, you find him on the sofa mindlessly scrolling through his phone. you offer him a cheerful, loving greeting and only get a mumbled, half-hearted response in return. that didn’t even bother you, what did was when you joined him on the couch and cuddled into his side, hyunjin immediately got up and walked to the kitchen, letting you fall to the wayside. he didn’t even bother to look up from his phone. it hurt. the pain stung in your chest, knocking the wind out of your stomach and bringing tears to your eyes. without a word, you got up and put your shoes back on. just as quick as you finally got home after a long day of work you were once again out the door. you called one of your best friends and asked if they wanted to go somewhere to eat and talk. hearing the emotion in your voice they agreed and met you. they let you vent the whole time, letting you cry and offering you support. before you knew it, the two of you had been talking up until the restaurant was closing and decided it was time for you to part ways for the night. on your way back to the apartment you noticed that you had several missed calls and texts from hyunjin. still hurt by his actions, you decided not to look at any of the messages and just talk when you got home figuring it would be ok if he sweat a bit more. boy, were you wrong. upon entering the apartment again you were met with a distraught hyunjin crashing into you. “baby, i’m so sorry! i’m so glad you’re ok!” he cried into your shoulder. “hyunjin, wha—?” you were stunned and slowly reached a hand up to stroke the back of his head. guilt started to bubble up for making him worry so much. “i’m sorry, baby, i’ve just been so overwhelmed. i didn’t mean to push you away. please don’t leave me!” he begged as he sobbed. your heart ached in your chest at his pain. he’s been holding in so much and you didn’t really have any idea. “hyune… baby, i’m not going anywhere i promise. just please talk to me, yeah? i just wanna be there for you.” you tucked your chin into him and whispered softly before placing a kiss to his head. “c’mon, love, let’s get some rest.” you led him to the bedroom where he laid on your chest and shared everything he’d kept hidden in his mind. 
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han- in his mind it was a joke. he was goofing off and playing around each time you leaned in for a kiss, pulling back or dodging him. jisung was a sucker for any form of attention he got from you but today he was just more in a playful mood. what you hadn’t talked about yet was how awful work had been. it was probably one of the worst days you’d had in a while and you were barely holding it together simply because you were with him at the dorms. you’d gotten the message at work and from that moment you’d been looking forward to just snuggling up in his arms and watching a movie together to forget how terrible your day had been. but jisung insisted on messing around just to be funny and making some of the guys laugh, well, some of them. felix has been noticing things from the kitchen and told jisung to cut it out but he didn’t listen, thinking his dongsaeng was just trying to ruin his fun. it was not longer fun for anyone when after he had done it one last time you got up, grabbed your shoes and bag, and stormed out of the dorms. the only one that saw your tears as you left was felix. “hyung… they were crying.” he said softly. jisung’s eyes went wide, “what?!? crying? i was just kidding around!” chan put a hand on the younger’s shoulder and tried to offer some perspective. “they did seem a little upset when they came in. do you know how their work day was?” he asked. “well, not really. when they texted they said they really could use a movie night. i was trying to keep things fun and make them laugh.” “they weren’t really laughing.” felix reminded him gently. after a few seconds of thought, jisung scrambled from his seat before running out the door. soon he was at your apartment, pounding on the door and begging to be let in. “baby, it’s me! please, i was so stupid! i’m so sorry! just let me in!” he pleaded. you cracked the door just enough. jisung could see your eyes were bloodshot and cheeks tear stained. “jisung, just go back to the dorms, ok. i had a really bad day and i’m just not in the mood.” “i’m sorry, baby. i wasn’t thinking.” he apologized again. you suddenly teared up again, “all i wanted to do was cuddle you.” jisung’s heart cracked. “awe, no, baby! you still can! can i hold you… please? just let me in.” you stared at him a minute, contemplating before you sighed in defeat and let him in. he gave you all the cuddles and kisses you wanted that night.
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felix- you honestly didn’t think much of it. you were getting ready to go out and wanted just a little time with him but he was in the middle of a game and blew you off when you kissed him. this was really unlike felix but he’d had a rough day and he was really invested in the gameplay. so, you just rolled your eyes and kept getting ready. when you called out that you were leaving, he didn’t even hear a thing. with you being out at the club, you didn’t really check your phone that often, immersed with your friends and having a good time. by the time you had returned, giggling to yourself and stumbling through the door, you were met with something completely unexpected. felix slowly looked up at you, his cheeks stained with tears, his hair a mess from running his hands through it. “baby?” he whimpered out before attacking you in a hug. “oh, baby, i’m so sorry for ignoring you earlier! please don’t leave me!” he sobbed into your shoulder. needless to say your buzz was gone and comfort mode replaced it. “lixie, baby, i’m not upset. i just went out. i told you earlier i was going out.” you rubbed his back soothingly as he pulled away. “oh… you did, huh?” he suddenly felt embarrassed. “sorry, i panicked because i was a bit rude before and you weren’t answering your phone.” “it’s ok, love bug.” you pecked his lips. “let’s go to bed. i’m exhausted.” you led him back with you to the bedroom. “ok… can we cuddle?” felix asked, his big boba eyes pleading at you. “of course, cutie!”
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seungmin- your boyfriend was not a fan of skinship, you’ve known this from the beginning. part of you was fine with it and would never want to make him uncomfortable or push his boundaries. however, you were just an affectionate person, it was in your nature. from the beginning you did your best to respect seungmin but it was getting harder and you started to feel less loved by him. one thing about seungmin is that he was observant and noticed every time he pushed you away, how your face would drop. he started to get insecure especially when he would see you around the other boys, especially felix, and cuddle them. he noticed how happy you were to have affection and started to worry that if he couldn’t get over it that he might lose you. at this point it was just instinct to deny you and when it happened this time you got up and left the bedroom. seungmin eventually heard the front door shut and began to panic. he raced from the bed, neglecting his shoes, phone, everything and stopped you at the elevator. your eyebrows knit together in confusion as you watched him catch his breath. “i’m sorry! don’t leave me! please!” he huffed out. “seungmin, i—“ “no, please! i know i’m a terrible boyfriend and i’m not good and hugging and stuff but i promise to be better just please stay with me.” tears began to form in his eyes. you sighed lovingly and stepped forward to kiss him softly. “babe, we’re out of milk. i’ll be back soon and we can talk more, ok? i love you, minnie.” you pushed the button on the elevator and seungmin stood back shocked as he watched the elevator doors shut. 
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i.n- it was a total accident. he asked you to come out with his friends and you completely embarrassed him. you felt awful about it and apologized profusely but he was still pissed. jeongin felt like he was always the baby and always had to prove himself around everyone. it’s something that he’s worked really hard on improving and you’ve honestly helped with that, but he still has his moments where he still feels like the little kid in a group full of older boys. you unfortunately pushed that button tonight and you didn’t even mean to which led to an intense fight once you got home. it wasn’t even really a fight, jeongin just got really mad and you kept apologizing. you came forward and put a hand on his arm for him to throw you off. jeongin didn’t hurt you physically but it did hurt you emotionally. as you stood there staring at him in hurt and shock, he shook his head and went to your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind him. after a few minutes you decided to go to the person who could probably help you the most. you rushed out the door, calling to make sure you could even meet with him. “chris…” you whimpered into the phone and he could immediately tell. “hey! what’s wrong? are you ok? where’s i.n?” he asked concerned. “we got into a fight. i messed up, he was so upset. can i just come talk to you? please! i need some advice.” “yeah, i’m in the studio right now. just come on in.” you quickly made your way over. chan listened intently, not interrupting you as you got the whole story out in between tears. he did his best to comfort you and give you advice on how to handle jeongin, but really you both knew this was just something to ride out and learn from. suddenly, chris’s phone rang. “hey, jeongin… wait, slow down. slow down. they’re with me at the studio. yeah. ok… bye.” he hung up with the younger boy before addressing you. “he was worried about you. he should be here soon.” it wasn’t too longer after that jeongin burst through the door in tears. he fell to his knees in front of you and apologized, his head resting in your lap. you stroked his hair softly returning the apologies but got up, pulling him with you. the two of you said your goodbyes to chris and headed home to make up.
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1427 · 2 months
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something to prove
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Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV. The night your boyfriend breaks up with you, you decide you have something to prove. 
Warnings: Very vaguely implied drug use, age-gap (reader is 20, Daryl is mid30’s), smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (both m & f), idk there’s something else that happens but idk how to tag it (premature ejaculation???), preTWD!Daryl.
Word Count: 3k
A/n: this is a two part story, possibly three? This started out as a step-dad!daryl idea but I reworked it because not everyone’s as big of a pervert as I am. If anyone wants step-dad imagines (au or otherwise for Daryl, or Negan) lmk. 🥵😈
17+ mdni
\\part 2\\
masterlist
“Who are you?” You ask, to the man standing in your house. Well, your moms house, certainly wasn’t his house. He looked like one of your moms friends from the bar. 
“Shit, who are you?” He looks at you, more confused than you are. Scared almost. 
“Mona’s kid?” You explain, who else would you be? 
“Oh, shit. Didn’t know Mona had a kid. She just left you here?” You look at him like he’s still a stranger standing in your living room. 
“I’m 20.” You watch as he sighs a little in relief. 
“Right…. I’m Daryl. Uh. Her and my brother took a ride down to the city. Didn’t wanna go, she said I could hang here.” 
“Of course she did,” you say to yourself with a sigh. 
Daryl watches you as you run to the kitchen and grab a snack and run back toward the stairs, “Well. I’ll be in my room.” 
“Wait! Uh.. where’s the remote?” 
You sigh, with a smile this time, and step backward down the first step. You walk past him and dig your hand into the recliner that’s facing directly in front of the TV, pulling the remote from its hiding spot. As you walk back toward the stairs you put it to his stomach, and he takes it with both hands. “Thanks” you hear him say, and then you’re gone. Running up the stairs to lock yourself in your room. 
✨🚬
Daryl and Merle came over a lot after that. You didn’t see too much of them, when you’re mom had company you knew it was best to stay locked in your room. Not like you’d want to be around her company anyway. 
Daryl seemed different than Merle. Everytime you did venture out of your room for a snack, or to leave the house to go see your boyfriend, and you had to interact with things outside of your room, Daryl never spoke. Honestly, it seemed to you like he didn’t even want to be there. 
And every time your mom and Merle go down to the city, Daryl stays back and watches TV and smokes cigarettes in the living room. Never does anything else. 
You start developing a crush. And you know it’s insane because he’s so much older than you, but you can’t help it. You never thought you’d see someone older like that, but to be fair he didn’t look it. He definitely wasn’t as old as your mom. Probably mid 30’s? Probably. You couldn’t ask. And there was something about him. Brooding, quiet, but… safe. He never bothered you, never looked at you too long like most of your moms friends did. He seemed.. sweet. 
You start praying they’ll come over, and then you pray that your mom and Merle will leave. Sometimes they’re only gone for half an hour, sometimes they’re gone all night. No matter how long they’re gone, though, you always go down and see Daryl. 
You never really talk to him more than a few passing words, even when it becomes a more common occurrence. 
Obviously you try to look as good as you can when you do go down there to walk in front of him. You stand awkwardly by the kitchen island, pretending to watch tv, trying to say something. Usually you can’t come up with anything. 
You find yourself wearing more and more revealing clothing, trying to get him to look, but you never catch him looking. And, honestly? It frustrates you to no end. 
Why won’t he look? 
It’s starting to make you a little crazy, multiple times you’d had to stop yourself from coming down in just a towel.
And then your boyfriend breaks up with you. Probably better off, but the night that it happens you lose it. You’re not heartbroken necessarily, but you are pissed. And you feel like you have something to prove. And all of it bubbles up into something you normally would never see yourself doing. 
You come downstairs this time in only an oversized teeshirt. No underwear. Its dark, all the lights off, it is 2am, but for some reason you weren’t expecting it. It should make what you have planned even easier. Less awkward. 
Instead of going to the kitchen you walk right up to Daryl and put your hand out for the remote. “I wanna watch TV.” 
He looks up at you. Finally. And he hands you the remote. “Alrigh’.” 
You change the channel to something else, doesn’t matter what as long as it’s not what he was watching. You settle on an old movie, looked just boring enough. You lay down on your stomach in front of where Daryl sat in the armchair, your teeshirt riding just barely up your ass, just enough for Daryl to be distracted by it. To notice it. To ask himself if you weren’t wearing any underwear. 
You hear him take a deep breath from behind you and it makes you smile. Finally. 
And you stay like that for a while, absentmindedly looking at the TV, not really watching it. Daryl’s watching you through half lidded eyes. Before you’d come downstairs Daryl was a good five minutes from falling asleep in that arm-chair. But now? His heart hammering in his chest, he has to control his breathing in the quiet living room, to not tip you off that you were affecting him so much. He wasn’t sure what you were doing, or if you were even doing it on purpose. But you’re 20, right? Surely… he figures you have to know. 
But if you know what you’re doing, than you’re expecting some kind of reaction, and Daryl… can’t. He can’t move. He can hardly think straight. Looking at your bare legs, the little peak of your ass just barely revealing itself from under the fabric. And then you shift your hips and the tee-shirt falls away even more. 
It takes everything in him to keep his breathing steady. 
“Are you looking?” Your voice cuts through the silent room, making no attempt to turn back and look at him. 
“No.” Daryl says, quickly. His brain scrambling over the new information that you definitely, absolutely, undeniably knew what you were doing. 
You smile to yourself, the choked sound of his voice told you everything you needed to know. You can practically feel the heat in his cheeks. The tightness in his chest.  
You never thought you’d be as into it as you were getting. Him seeing you like this was burning up your core. Slowly at first and then seemingly all at once. You put your head to the floor in a small moment of defeat over your own body, feeling yourself start to drip down your leg. You wonder if he can see it too. If the light of the TV is reflecting off the little strings of your arousal, coating the inside of your thighs, starting to drip down onto the carpet. A small groan escapes your lips as you raise your hips up off the carpet, keeping your shoulders and the rest of your body down to the ground. 
You want to show him what he’s doing to you. You want him to see the mess he’d made. So there you are, your ass now completely in the air, only a few feet from where he’s sitting behind you, “Are you looking now?” 
This time Daryl doesn’t respond. Because he can’t. His fingers are whiteknuckled on the arm-rests. And he was losing the ability to control his breathing. He was losing control of the ability to even think about breathing. To think at all. 
You don’t mind that he didn’t answer, you knew. His ragged breathing spurred you further. You reach down underneath your body, through your legs, and try to spread yourself open for him with two delicate fingers. Your middle finger slipping through your folds, too slick to hold up to friction. Your hand wipes some of it down your thigh, so you can continue what you’re trying to do. 
And you can hear his breath hitch in his throat, making a smile bloom on your face. A sick, cocky smile. 
You spread yourself for him, before taking two fingers to your clit and drawing small circles around it. You hiss, your hips spasming at the too sensitive feeling of pressure directly on your nerve bundle, but you keep going. 
Plunging two fingers deep inside of you, selfishly. This one wasn’t for Daryl, although he liked it. You needed the delicious feeling of something inside of you. Your fingers hook in you, desperately curling over and over again as you mercilessly assault your own g-spot. 
The noises coming out of you could send Daryl into a coma. Not just the half-coherent babbles and deep definitely-came-from-your-chest groans. No, the sound of your slick hand squelching against your cunt so perfectly. 
You go back and forth like this, between your clit and your walls, until you feel your orgasm start to bubble over. The dull throb of ecstasy climbing into every limb. You almost forget Daryl’s watching as you put your fingers back inside you, three this time, and ride your own hand until your body is shaking, expletives falling out of your mouth before you can catch them. 
You lay there, on the floor in a heap, teaching yourself to breathe again. Until you glance back at Daryl. With one hand covering his mouth his expression is unreadable, but his other hand gripping the arm rest tells you everything. And the hard cock pressing up against the zipper of his pants tells even more. 
You’re almost embarrassed, but not quite. Standing up from the spot you’d laid down to ‘watch TV’ you silently walk over to him and wipe your hand off on his shirt. Pressing your fingers hard against his chest through the fabric, eliciting a barely audible moan from him.
He watches you walk away, listening as your bare feet pad up the steps and into your room. It takes him all of three seconds to free his cock from his jeans. Pumping himself furiously, unceremoniously, with his face buried in the spot of his shirt where you’d wiped your juices on him. 
The smell of you, the taste of you, so fresh and right there. He laps at the spot until it’s soaked with his saliva. He comes in a strangled mess, trying to be quiet, hot white ropes painting his jeans. 
After it’s over he curses himself. He leaves before Merle and your mom get back, to go home and change. Wondering to himself what the hell just happened. 
✨🚬
For a week you avoid him. He and Merle come over twice, but you stay in your room the whole time. A little too embarrassed to face him so soon after what you’d done. You didn’t regret it, or feel bad, but your normal personality had returned. With nothing more to prove to yourself, or your stupid ex boyfriend. Not bold enough to masturbate in front of older men. Apparently not even bold enough to show your face in front of him. 
You wake up one night in a sweat, having another dream about Daryl. In this one he’d had you bent over the kitchen table. Fuck it’s hot in here, you go to open the window but what you really need is water. 
You start to make your way downstairs, only to see Daryl. In the faint glow of the television, eyes wide as he meets yours. “Oh. Hi.” You manage to say, awkwardly standing on the last step before nodding at his lack of response, looking down trying to hide your blush.
 You walk to the kitchen silently, getting some water for yourself. Feeling unbelievably uncomfortable, you wanted to be clever. To be coy and cute and everything you were the other night, but the whole thing is making you so nervous you can’t think straight. You just want to get back upstairs before you say something stupid. Before you embarrass yourself by not being that person. 
You down a cup of water quickly and toss it into the sink before heading back for your room. 
You’re passing in front of the TV when Daryl asks you, “Do you want the remote?” 
One simple question, your head spins. You knew what he meant. What he was really saying. ‘Do it again’. 
You look over at him, remote on his knee, and you nod. Walking over to him, you pick up the remote from where it sat, but you let your fingers graze all the way up his leg, over the tight bulge in his pants. “Christ.” He says, through gritted teeth. 
You smile, that same cocky smile, and take your position down on the ground in front of him. You take your time, at first you really are watching TV. Letting Daryl ache for it. Letting him question if you understood what he’d meant. 
He’d been wondering when he was going to see you next, if you’d do it again. If you’d do more. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was definitely the hottest thing a girl had ever done for him. Not like he had all that much experience with women, but he had some. None of it quite like that. Nothing that was so burned into his memory that if he closed his eyes he could still taste you. Still hear those explicit noises coming off your body. 
He needed more. He needed to watch you again. 
He waits, with baited breath, for you to touch yourself. It feels like it’s taking forever. There’s something about you just down there in front of him, though. It feels like he’s almost able to get off on just that. 
Eventually you spread your legs a little bit at a time. Raising your hips again, you play with yourself in front of him like you did before, taking more time. Teasing him. 
You slide the top half of your body, flush with the ground, over to the side a little so you can look back at him. Fuck. He’s just staring. Mouth open, eyes half closed, fingers holding a cigarette that he occasionally drags. Just watching. Never taking his eyes off of you. Occasionally he looks back up to your face, all contorted in pleasure, but for the most part he can’t take his eyes off of what your fingers are doing. The light shimmering over every wet part of you. 
You sit up for just a second to bring the teeshirt off your body and throwing it to the side. Resuming your position, now completely naked. Vulnerable. You look at him with another smile, his expression is pained. 
Daryl’s trying so hard to keep himself in control. To not touch himself until you’re out of the room, that would be too much, right? He’s convinced himself that there’s no way he can pull his cock out in front of you. He’s so much older, even if you’re 20. Even if you’re in front of him, doing this. Pretty, delicate, messy pussy spread out for him. Begging for him. He can’t. He’s got to control himself. Plus, it’s too embarrassing. You’re so confident and languid with your movements, he’s sure if you saw him like the strangled mess he was the other night that you’d run out of the room immediatly. 
He’s wrong, but it doesn’t matter to you. Of course you want him, and of course you’d let him slither right in behind you and claim any hole he wanted. You would love to see him lose control and touch himself, even if it was something you’d never seen a man do before. Of course you would. But the feeling of his eyes burned into you is so exquisite on its own. 
Daryl’s losing his fucking mind, though. You’re doing it all different than last time. Slower, hotter. Grabbing at your tits with your other hand. Fuck. His head is dizzy, he feels like he’s going to pass the fuck out. And then you start riding your hand again. But not like last time, last time your fingers were hooked into you so tight that Daryl silently begged for you to just fuck yoursef with your fingers instead. He wanted to watch your lips spread out and over them. Wanted to watch you fill and empty your cunt with your two fingers over and over, and now that’s exactly what you’re doing. 
Daryl’s chewing on his thumb, anything to keep his hands away from himself. Every time you pump your fingers inside he feels his hardened length spasm. So tight into his pants, the friction actually starts to feel good. 
You add another finger, and then another. It’s too much for Daryl, who was again silently begging you to do that too. To stretch that little pussy even more for him. Before he can even comprehend what’s happening, his vision goes white. Daryl’s cock spasms violently, cum coating the inside of his pants. His thumb is bleeding from where he’d bit down on it, and he’s never been more fucking embarrassed in his life. Never been more surprised, confused, turned on. 
He watches as you ride out your high, following with your own earth shattering orgasm only a few moments later. He looks down to you to see if you had any idea of what had happened, but you don’t. 
You have no idea he just came in his pants without even touching himself. Just from watching you. 
pt 2
a/n : thanks to @norman-fucking-reedus for helping me with some ideassss for this 💕🤘🏻
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lovelybrooke · 3 months
Note
i really want to know how lucifer feels with the reader
(okay in that previous ask they brought up the idea reader being sent to Hell when they were a child, meeting Lucifer, but then forgetting him when they get older and I really liked that idea).
read this ask and this concept for a little bit more context.
masterlist
---
You were so--different.
He guesses it's obvious, time has passed and you're older now. But he swears it wasn't that long ago when he saw you, and you were so small.
"Hello little one, what is your name?" He was crouched down in front of you, watching as you shake like a leaf. You were obviously not supposed to be here, you were human, that was obvious enough to him.
"(Y/n)." You squeak out. You were terrified of him, trying to back away from him so much you were practically one with the wall behind you. You remind him of his daughter, with your big eyes and your tiny stature. He was sure you were smaller than Charlie, don't human children need to eat, why are you so small?
"There's no need to be afraid." He says, putting out his hand for you to take. "My names Lucifer, I won't hurt you." He tries to put on softer voice, hopefully to make you stop shaking. After a few seconds, your small hand is placed in his. You were cold and your legs were shaking. When you tried to stand, your legs buckled and you fell, the small whimper in your voice making him frown.
"Hey--hey--you're okay, don't worry, I got you." He picks you up and tucks your face into his shoulder as you begin to cry quietly.
"M-my legs hurt..." You whimper out as you hold onto him tightly. He rubs your back as he tries to figure out how to explain this to Lilith and Charlie.
"That's okay." He coos, patting your head. "You can rest now--don't worry." Your cries become lower, until eventually they're gone all together. He smiles, feeling accomplished in a small way. Maybe Charlie was getting too big, maybe it's nice to take care of someone again.
But before he knows it, you're gone. Be looks over to where you should be laying in his arms, only for you to be gone, his arms strangely empty. He feels his chest heave, straining as he looks around the small alley way for you, but you're nowhere to be seen.
Eventually, he leaves, and time goes on. Charlie gets older, Lilith leaves, but you remain stuck in mind. He wonders where you could've gone, maybe back to earth, maybe to heaven. He tries his best to forget you, but he can't forget the warmth he felt when you were snuggled up in his arms, or how you were so light it scared him.
So of course when he sees you again he recognizes you. Even though you're older, you still look too small and too scared. You still look like you want to disappear into the walls just to avoid conflict. Even though you look different, you haven't changed.
And he hopes you recognize him, that your eyes light up when you see him, and he imagines you hugging him, and feeling that warmth once again. But you don't, you look confused when you see him, and then scared when Charlie explains who he is. You're shaking and backing away slightly.
And for a second you're small again, and he hears you crying about how bad your legs hurt, and he frowns. Because you haven't changed, you're scared, terrified even.
And something in him breaks.
---
A/n: Idk hope this is good
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breadbrobin · 4 months
Note
Hi idk if you’re taking reqs but I’ve been reading your posts about Luke Castellan a lot and I think I’m getting obsessed- So could you make a fic/shot about a Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo reader where they’ve known each other since childhood and they’re kind of like frenemies (friends and/or enemies) and one day he ends up getting badly injured after a quest so she has to take care of him in the infirmary for a week, but ever since that happened he’s been trying to get injured just to go and see reader at the infirmary again?
Sorry if that wasn’t clear, and this is kinda inspired from another fic you made about Luke and daughter of Apollo:)
But if you ever make something like this I would really appreciate it if you tagged me!
two hearts
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[fem!daughter of apollo reader]
summary: (as above)
warnings: canon typical mentions of violence, kissing, flirting, a couple of swear words, blood, idiots to lovers a lil bit too (can you tell it’s my favourite thing)
word count: 3.5k
(hiiii hello hi!! sorry this took me so long to get out, but here it is!! thank you so much for the request i had a lot of fun with this one (3.5k words of fun apparently). hope you enjoy it!)
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if someone had told you luke castellan was going to be gone on a quest when you arrived at camp for the summer, you wouldn’t have spent the whole drive to camp preparing to deal with his annoying ass.
you hiked up half-blood hill and over the boundary, noticing the distinct tension in the atmosphere. something was off.
when luke hadn’t come to see you as you dropped your bags off in the apollo cabin, or when you stopped into the infirmary, or even when you walked past the hermes cabin, you were clued in that something was up.
“where’s luke?” you asked chiron curiously.
“he is on a quest, child. sent by his father,” he smiled down at you warmly. “do not worry about him.”
“i’m not worried,” you bit your lip. “just curious. that’s all.”
and that was that.
it was weirdly boring being at camp without luke’s constant snarky comments. ever since you’d both gotten to camp when you were younger, he’d been a persistent thorn in your side. maybe it was because you both were new around the same time, or because you didn’t like it when he hovered around the infirmary, poking his quick fingers into buckets of bandages and medications. whatever it was, he seemed to enjoy irritating you. and you apparently enjoyed it more than you thought.
monotonous days: breakfast, archery, infirmary, training, activities, dinner, bed.
sleepless nights: nightmares of quests and dragons and a bright white scar.
you sighed one night, waking up from yet another dream of flashes and brief images. your siblings were sleeping around you, a couple of them snoring, and you sat up.
the air on the porch was cooler that night, especially for summer time. you wrapped your sweatshirt a little tighter around yourself and leaned on the porch railing, peering out into the darkness. you just needed a minute, really. you sat down on a chair and relaxed.
you woke up abruptly.
at first, you were confused as to why.
then you saw the figure on the hill.
it was a camper. the hint of orange in the full-moon light told you that much. they were stumbling down—no, they were rolling now.
you stood up and dashed back into your cabin, grabbing your to-go first aid kit. you then turned and ran towards the obviously injured figure. there were only three people it could be. and where were the other two?
you reached them quickly, dropping to your knees beside them and rolling them over.
luke.
it was luke.
the air rushed from your lungs. he was here. he was back. he was alive. you’d never felt such an overwhelming emotion before. it drew slight stinging tears to your eyes.
his eyes were barely open but he gripped your arm with a strength you didn’t think his weak body could still possess. “y/n?”
“just hold on, luke,” you whispered. there were injuries all over his body. you hardly knew where to start. “just hold on.”
“they’re gone,” he said absently.
you looked at him, but didn’t stop trying to help. “who’s gone?”
“everyone,” he stared up at the moon.
you bit your cheek and looked over your shoulder. one of your brothers had gone on that quest with him. “wake up!” you shouted. “someone come help!” you turned back to luke. “okay, luke. you’re gonna be okay.”
his cheeks were hollow. it was then that you noticed the way his eye was swollen closed and a dark red angry cut traced its way down the side of his face. you gasped and turned his head gently to see it better.
“not looking good, huh?” he murmured bitterly. “guess i won’t be getting any modelling contracts soon.”
“we’ll see about that,” you muttered. “stay awake, yeah?”
“you’re not the boss of me,” he grumbled, but kept his eyes open as help finally arrived to get him to the infirmary.
he’d had more injuries than you’d originally thought. it was like he’d been attacked by half of the monsters in greek mythology, honestly, based on the peppered burn holes in his shirt, the cuts and scrapes on his arms and knees and the gashes littering his abdomen. oh, and not to mention the gaping spear wound in his right shoulder.
after working all night with some of your siblings and chiron in the infirmary, he was finally stable. finally, he’d be okay.
you volunteered to stay with him to keep an eye on him for the first few hours, though your eyelids were drooping with sleep.
you held his hand. it felt like the right thing to do.
he didn’t stir.
it was strange, being around him without him talking. since you were fourteen, he’d rarely managed to shut up around you. incessant talking and waving his hands around, explaining some new thing he learned in sword fighting or some joke one of his brothers made. it was both infuriating and entertaining. you loved and hated it, just like you loved and hated him.
sitting in silence with luke castellan felt like the world was turning on its head.
a couple of hours passed. you didn’t let go of his hand. not even as you slipped into a dream—a memory, really.
you were fifteen, and it was raining. it had only been a few months since you got to camp. things were still fresh and somewhat unknown. what you did know, though, was you could never get a moments peace anymore.
“y/n?”
you rolled your eyes. of course it was luke. “what?”
“where are you?”
you supposed you were hidden pretty well. sitting among the reeds at the bottom of the lake was one of your favourite places to be. it was cooler there, but even in winter it wasn’t cold. your feet could sit in the water if you wanted them to and the reeds blocked you from the wind and outside attention.
when you didn’t respond, you could hear him coming closer anyway.
“that’s fine, don’t tell me. i’ll find you anyway.”
and he did. he always did.
there was some theory about that, you realised as he sat beside you, the tiny space between the reeds barely big enough to hold both of you. some theory about a string of fate tying people together. some greek myth about people originally having four arms, four legs and two hearts, and when zeus split them down the middle, those people spent the rest of their lives searching for their other halves. drawn together by fate and reconnected always. you arm was pressed against his arm and your leg against his leg, and maybe it felt so right because you were cold and he was warm. not because of some silly soulmate theory that didn’t even make sense. because there was also the idea that maybe he’d put a tracker on you, but you had no idea where he would have gotten that. or maybe you were just bad at hiding.
“i’ve been looking for you,” he said.
you tilted your head in confusion. “what? why?”
“well,” were you mistaken, or were his cheeks kind of red? “i kinda hurt myself at training today. and the people in the infirmary told me to grow up and get over it. but honestly, it really hurts and i just wanted to know if you could heal it.”
you rolled your eyes. “always needing something, huh, castellan? is it so much to ask for you to just want to see me?” you hold your hand out and he extends his sword arm, revealing the cross-muscle cut on his forearm.
“i do want to see you,” he protested. “honestly. it’s not my fault that i’m also coincidentally injured whenever i want to see you.”
you couldn’t stay mad at that smile. “coincidentally, huh?” you handed him a small section of ambrosia from your pocket as your fingers ran over the cut, whispering a prayer to your father. you watched as the skin knit itself closed again, leaving not even a scar on his arm. you pulled back with a smile. “there. done. good as new.”
“thanks, doctor. don’t know what i’d do without you.”
“die a horrible death and be left permanently disfigured? to the point where we’d do a closed casket funeral just so we don’t have to look at your ugly face?” you tilted your head with a teasing smile.
he elbowed you. “shut up, loser. you know you love my face.”
and as you woke up, feeling his hand tighten around yours, you realised you kind of did. there was gauze over the cut on his eye and cheek, covering half of his face. and yet, he was still annoyingly beautiful.
“something on my face?” he mumbled as he saw looking, finally awake. “except for this thing, of course.” he gestured to the gauze.
you smiled wanly. “i’m glad you’re awake.”
“missed me?” he half-grinned.
you snort and drop his hand, patting the back of it and standing up to check his bandages. “you wish.”
he was silent as you checked his bandages and reapplied the few that were loosening. then, as you left to go and get the next person to keep an eye on him, he spoke up. “i missed you.”
you paused in the doorway, a small smile growing on your face. you looked back at him. his eyes were earnest and soft. he looked younger like this. “i’ll be back a few hours. we’ll have dinner together.”
you did have dinner together. in fact, you had almost every meal together for the first few days.
it was quiet, mostly. you didn’t ask him what happened and he didn’t tell you. you knew he’d already been interrogated by everyone else. he didn’t need that from you.
annabeth came and joined you a couple of times, chatting about some new architectural design she’d learned about or a new move she’d learned in training.
you realised how alike they were. family in every way that mattered, regardless of blood.
it didn’t take long for luke to start getting annoying again though.
once he’d been in the infirmary for four days, he regained most of his usual personality. and that meant bad jokes, incessant talking and poorly-timed, half-hearted flirting.
“the sun makes your eyes glow,” he said one day. he’d never had much of a filter, so it wasn’t too out of the blue, but it still caught you a little of guard.
you fumbled the supplies in your hand. “sorry, what?”
he was sitting up on his bed now. his wounds were almost healed. two more days and he’d be out of the infirmary. you didn’t know if you were one hundred per cent happy about that.
“your eyes. they glow in the sun.” he repeated.
you paused, glancing over at him. “thank you…?”
he nodded and leaned back, his eyes staying on you.
that was only the beginning.
within five hours he’d complimented your eyes, your skills, your smile and your kindness. multiple times. it got the point where the other two patients in the infirmary had stopped taking you seriously, just complimenting you instead. that’s where you drew the line.
“okay, luke, you need to stop. this is too much,” you said. you were checking his remaining wounds and nodding happily at them.
“what, am i flustering you? are you blushing?” he teased.
you were not blushing at all, you decided. whether it was strictly true or not was between your brain and your cheeks, not your honesty. “you’re annoying me,” you grumbled. “like, a lot.”
“you know you’ll miss me when i go back to my cabin,” he leaned back on his pillows, a smirk on his lips. it warped the scar on his cheek more than you expected, and it made your heart clench every time.
“if i miss you, you have permission to annoy me for the rest of my life,” you grumbled. you definitely wouldn’t miss this.
finally, he was out of the infirmary.
finally, you could work in peace.
finally, you could— oh, what the hell?
“good morning!” luke said as he waltzed into the infirmary. “i’ve injured myself.”
you looked him up and down as you walked closer. “you look fine to me. what did you do?”
“i fell of the rock climbing wall and hit my head.” he turned his head to show you the small trickle of blood above his ear.
you sighed and led him to a bed. you handed him ambrosia as you used a wet cloth to clean his head. “you were meant to take things easy for the first few days.”
“i did!” he protested. “i was only like, twelve feet up!”
you pursed your lips and shook your head. your hand was under his chin now, stopping him from turning his head to look at you. “taking it easy means no rock climbing at all, dumbass. you’ve been out of here for half a day and you’re already back!”
“maybe i like it in here.” he shrugged, pouting slightly, looking up at you.
“maybe i find you really annoying and ban you from coming in here,” you countered.
“you can’t do that,” he gasped.
“watch me, castellan.” you prodded his cheek mockingly. “don’t mess with me.”
his smile wasn’t exactly the response you were looking for, but you found that you didn’t mind it all too much.
luke came into the infirmary almost every two days for the next two weeks.
there was always some new injury that he couldn’t ignore, that he needed to have you heal. he only came in when you were there though, like he knew your schedule off by heart.
he probably did.
his sheepish smile was becoming a fixture of your days and you couldn’t help but smile a little brighter when you saw it. you couldn’t stop your heart from beating a little faster either, and it was annoying.
in the years that you’d been at camp, luke castellan had driven you up the wall. did you hate him? did you love him? how did you love him? how a friend loves a friend? how a doctor loves a patient? how a lover loves a lover? how did you hate him? why? why anything? why nothing? the questions only got worse.
“another minor injury?” you sighed, hearing his footsteps entering the infirmary. you didn’t know when you memorised the sound of his footsteps, or the rise and fall of his breathing while he slept, but you did.
“uh, not exactly…” the weakness in his voice made your stomach drop.
you turned around to see him clutching a bright red wound on his inner arm. he looked pale. that wasn’t a good sign. the blood was still seeping past his fingers. also not a good sign.
you gasped and pulled him to a bed immediately, pushing him to lie down and placing hard pressure on the wound. you could feel him reaching into your pocket and fishing around for ambrosia. once he found some, he ate it quickly and sighed in relief.
“what the hell happened?” you exclaimed.
he shrugged with one shoulder. “sword training.”
“were you training against the fucking terminator?” you took in the other minor cuts and bruises. your voice was unfairly shaky. you didn’t want to get close to losing him again. even just the thought made you feel sick.
his eyes were soft when they looked up at you. you almost dropped all of your anger right there. “i got sloppy,” he said nonchalantly. “i’ll be fine once i get back to normal.”
“this is an artery,” you said. “you could die.”
he didn’t look all that upset or shocked. “i won’t die, baby. i won’t.”
your stomach gave a pitiful lurch at the nickname. “save your energy.”
“is that your doctorly way of telling me to shut up?” he teased.
“yes, it is,” you nodded. “now, shut up while i help you.”
he looked at you like you were hanging the stars in the sky, not tending to him with hands red from his blood.
no one had stopped talking about luke since he got back. the first failed quest in years, with two of the three members dying and the third one permanently scarred by a dragon. not a good ratio.
you often saw luke sitting alone now, and when he was nowhere to be found, you knew where he was.
maybe there was something to the strings of fate theory, you thought as you found him and sat down beside him among the reeds. they were taller now and more dense, but the two of you had carved out a little spot for yourselves over time. your limbs were still pressed against each other though. that was one thing that would never change.
he was turning something over in his hands. a repetitive motion.
you tried to make sense of what it was, but couldn’t.
“it’s a dragon claw,” he spoke up. “the one that did this.” he pointed at the still-red scar on his face. that was why you couldn’t get rid of that one. magic scars never really went away.
you stayed quiet.
“peter distracted the dragon just in time for me to get my sword back. i got the cut, but when i turned back he was getting thrown against the mountainside.” he shook his head bitterly. “he didn’t stand a chance.”
you stared at a dragonfly on a reed in front of you. “knowing my brother, he just would have been happy to be there. and happy that you’re alive.”
he smiled, but it looked forced and bitter. “yeah. he spent the whole time talking about how lucky we were for this opportunity, and how he was so excited to explore beyond camp… and gianna was the same. they were just…” he was fiddling with his camp beads now.
you watched his movements slowly. it was like he’d never been gone, but also like everything had changed. there was a new tension in the air around him. you weren’t sure if it was you or him.
“don’t be resentful,” you said softly, breaking the silence.
“what?” his eyes turned to you. “what do you mean?”
“don’t resent yourself and the gods for this,” you said, leaning a little closer to him and looking away. the dragonfly hadn’t moved—like it was listening. watching. “peter and gianna made their choices. they’re in elysium now. that’s about as good as it gets.”
he pressed his lips together and nodded. “i know.”
maybe there was something to the two hearts theory too, because you could tell he didn’t. he didn’t agree. he didn’t want to. you slipped your hand into his. “you know i’m always here for you, right, luke? i mean, you annoy me—a lot—but you’re still, well, you. and you’re important to me. i’ll always be there for you. if you want to hold hate in your heart, then be my guest. i’ll just have to hold more love in mine to balance you out.”
he was watching your connected fingers as you spoke. his hands were calloused and hard, but yours were softer. less time spent training and more time spent healing. “love for who?”
you, you thought. you didn’t speak.
he turned to look at you. you were already looking at him. “love for me?”
you swallowed tightly. “luke…”
he leaned in closer, until his lips were moments away from touching yours. one wrong move and you’d touch. or was that the right move? was the wrong move pulling away? leaving him alone—again? that didn’t feel fair. but nor did your pounding heart and your flushing cheeks, and maybe you were blushing now, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.
then you gave in. that string that connected your souls was pulling you too tight. your lips brushed against his softly at first, and before you could think to move any further, his hand was gripping the back of your neck and pulling you closer, and his lips were pressing against yours with the passion of years of built up tension. you’d never hated him at all, you realised. you loved him the whole time. sure, he was irritating. he was chatty. he was pushy and annoying and never stopped bothering you. but you’d missed his bothering, and you’d missed his smile, and when he pulled away to take a breath, you missed his lips with a fiery need that bubbled up from deep down inside you.
“guess i’ll be annoying you for the rest of our lives then, huh?” he said softly, chest rising and falling against yours.
your eyes were still closed, reeling from the kiss. “wasn’t that a given anyway? i wouldn’t want it any other way, personally.”
when he kissed you again, you decided that the theory about two hearts was, in fact, correct. you met as two, seperate halves in a fucked up world that had you grow up far too fast. you grew as two, finding your places at camp, finding your people, but always finding each other first. you met now as one. four arms, four legs, two hearts, meeting in a tumultuous display of love and desire. and that’s how you wanted to stay. your limbs locked with his, your hearts pounding in sync, your every feeling, every emotion, every sensation making your very soul hum with joy. you’d found him, finally, after years of your hearts waiting for this moment. finally, your two hearts were one again.
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biohazard-inevitable · 3 months
Text
Obsessed with Zoro giving one of his earrings to Sanji when they get married and I’m ever so grateful to all the fanartists that add that in subtly to their fanarts it eats me up so much its so cute but I have yet to see a comic about HOW that conversation ended up going like oh my god could you just imagine:
“Cook, come here.” Zoro hummed, sliding his hand effortlessly around the blonde’s waist to spin him in his direction.
“Zoro?! The fuck are you trying this time mosshead?” Sanji would almsot chuckle, venom gone from his voice as a faint smile parted his lips and he turned to face his new husband.
“Mh, you mentioned you had your ears pierced on Momorio, right?” Zoro smirked, taking Sanji’s left ear in between his fingers and inspecting it with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Yeah, but what’s that got to do with anything?”
“Hold still.”
Sanji rolled his eyes at the command, but held still nontheless as he stared lovingly at his husband, watching the way his face wrinkled in concentration, tongue ever so faintly jutting out like a toddler about to go cross-eyed from how hard they were focusing as he felt the cool metal slide into the hole in his ear. Something faintly jingled as the light sensation of metal grazed against his neck, an earring, obviously.
“A gift hm? And you arent even gonna let me see it before you slot it in huh?” Sanji scoffed with a laugh, waggling his eyebrow teasingly as he continued. “Reminds me of our wedding might you dog.”
“Oh come on,” Zoro laughed, giving Sanji a soft kiss before stepping back to admire his work. “I think it looks lovely on you. Better than on me.”
“What are you on about this time Marimo?” Sanji snickered before his eyes trailed over to Zoro’s earrings, finding there to only be two, and then it clicked. “Zoro- you didn’t.”
“Cause I couldn’t get you that ring.” Zoro shrugged with a soft smile. “Besides, I think it means more this way.”
“Gods above Zoro, what ever did I do to be as lucky as having someone like you?” Sanji sighed after a heavy moment of silence, stepping forward to plant a long, passionate kiss upon the swordsman’s lips. “I love you so much.”
“Love you too, Sanji.”
Y’know????? Like- idk just spitballin here.
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angel-eyes05 · 11 months
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to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 4)
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PREVIOUS CHAPTER
pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara 
summary: so much time has passed since you last saw each other. will old feelings come up again once you two find each other again?
warnings: HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, this is so against canon its insane, NSFW (we did it guys we're finally here), switch!reader and switch!miguel, blood mention, fang and claws play, p in v unprotected, cumplay, angsty (i couldnt help it), it goes, angst, smut, and then angsty fluff at the end youre welcome
word count: 3.2k
notes: for some reason, it didn't let me tag as many people who wanted to be on the taglist, so if i didn't end up tagging you for the final part, sorry idk what went wrong
also forgive me i was listening to boygenius while writing the parts leading up to the smut so it might get a little angsty there (i cant help it) (miguel and y/n are so bite the hand and cool about it core)
but then i balanced it out by listening to frank ocean (pyramids specifically) while writing the smut so you're welcome
---------------------------------------------------
Three years had passed. Three years since you finally found Miles, defeated The Spot, and caused the collapse of the Spider Society. Everyone had gone back to their separate dimensions, but were able to still visit each other with their still working portal watches. Miles and Gwen specifically were very happy. Peter B. went back home to live with MJ and Mayday, sending you frequent pictures of Mayday to keep you updates. You were different. You didn’t return to your home world. You didn’t necessarily have anyone to return to per se. Instead, you decided to hop between dimensions, seeing what crime there was to fight in cities that didn’t have anyone to protect it. It was enough to keep you occupied, and as long as your watch still worked, you had the option to stop if you wanted to. Life was nice. You finally had found peace.
But something felt off. Something thudding in the back of your head. Because even though you had been at peace for three years, it had also been three years since you saw him. You had seen him during the final showdown between all of Spider Society, but your team had managed to keep you two apart, due to fear for your safety. After the fight was over, you two had made eye contact with each other a couple of times, but never approached each other. If you were being honest, you were still scared of him at that point, even seeing him tied up there on the floor waiting for someone to deal with him. 
It took a while for your gashes to heal, the ones on your back taking much longer to turn into scars than the ones on your tricep and thigh. The marks on your body were frequent reminders of him and the damage he’s caused to your life. Part of you hated him for it. But most of you just missed him. Unlike Jess, who sent you pictures of her baby every now and then, neither of you had reached out to the other. It was crazy how five years of shared history can be thrown to the ground so quickly.
Right now, you were sitting on the railing of your apartment balcony. For the past month or so, you decided to park it in Earth-3819. There wasn’t much crime going on there, so it was a nice place to stop when you needed a break. Your feet dangled off the edge of the railing, as you looked out to see the sunset on the skyline. The wind blew faintly at your face, causing strands of hair to fall out of your high bun. You had been thinking more about him recently, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were. 
Almost as if you manifested it, you heard the sliding glass door from your bedroom slide open. Startled, you quickly turned around, ready just in case it was an attacker.
It was much worse than an attacker. 
You mouth laid agape as his massive shadow covered your smaller body. Feelings that laid dormant for the past three years suddenly erupting in your stomach. You looked up to the roof of your building as a signal to meet you up there, as you attached a web to the top and swung up there.
Once you were both at the top, you faced your back to him to take time to catch your breath. Your emotions were all over the place right now. “You’re really hard to find, you know,” he said trying to break the silence. You wanted to throw up. As much as you hoped this moment would come, you never realized how unprepared you would be if it ever did. You couldn’t bare to look at him right now, knowing you would lose control of yourself if you did. “You look…good.” How would he know, he only saw your face for a second before you bolted off. You both stood there, the wind growing louder and louder with each second you both stayed silent. 
All of your senses came to a freeze once you felt his hand place itself on your shoulder, causing a flinch from you. “I wanted to find you again, mi vida,” he said in that rich, deep, smooth tone of his that drives you crazy. You could tell he was getting closer when you felt the hairs on your neck stand up from him breathing on them. “I missed you, and I was hoping we could pick up where we left off,” he said into the crook of your neck and began to plant kisses there. You broke free from his grasp by the third kiss he left. “No no no no no, no we can’t. It’s not that simple Miguel,” you said, pinching your bridge and sighing. There's no way he could've thought it would be this easy. He's not this stupid….is he?
“Listen amor, I’m sorry for everything that happened. But the past is the past.” He walked closer to you. “And I want my future with you.” He was up against you again. This time instead of your shoulder, he dragged his finger up and down your back in an almost hypnotic motion. God, you wanted him so bad, you wanted it to be this simple. That he can just apologize and everything could be okay. But you were reminded it couldn't be that way once his finger hit a pressure point in your scar. You swatted your hands in the air and walked away from him again. “No Miguel, that's not how this works. You can just do the things you've done to me and just say sorry and expect it to fix everything. You're not a child.” 
Once you turned around to face him, you saw him standing there like a lost puppy. You just wish he could see what you were talking about. “Don't act like you didn't do horrible things then too. I saw what you did to Jess.” “Don't turn this onto me Miguel. This is about you.” You walked up to him and pressed your finger into his chest. “This is about you, and the horrible things you've done to me! I can't even take a shower anymore without looking at myself in the mirror and seeing your damage!” You lifted up your shirt sleeve. “You did this! This was all you!” Miguel looks down at you with sympathetic eyes as your eyes began to well up. 
“And you can’t just barge in on this life I’ve made for myself and ask for me back because I won't go with you!” You were fully crying at this point, desperately trying to get your words out between sobs and lightly punching at Miguel's chest while he just stared at you. “Because I hate you Miguel! I hate you, okay!” You couldn't manage to talk anymore, overcome with the emotions he caused you to feel. You rested your head on his chest as you continued to sob. He wrapped his arms around you, causing you to do the same to him immediately. You sat there crying into his arms for about a minute, until he lifted up your chin with his finger.
“I’m so sorry I did this to you mi princesa. I’m so sorry. But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” Overtaken by emotion, you grab his face and crash your lips into his. Almost instinctively, his hands find a home onto your hips. You pull away for a second. “Just stop talking already,” you say breathlessly. He rushes to connect the two of your lips again, already going as far as to slip his tongue in between your lips. He’s so passionate about everything he does. His hands hold a tight grip on your body as his tongue explores your mouth. Almost like he’s hungry for you. No, not hungry. Starving. Famished. Three years apart was too much for him to stand without you by his side or in his bed. He needed you desperately. Like his life depended on if he was going to be able to fuck you into your bed tonight or not. 
He let out moans as your hands ran through and tugged on his hair. But as soon as his claws came out and dug into your hips, you pulled your mouth off of his, a string of saliva still connecting you two. “No claws Miguel. Bring them out again, and its over okay.” You still weren’t mentally over his attack against you. He nods. “Of course, baby.” With that said, you let go of him to walk over to the edge of the building. Once your at the edge, you signal him over. He follows, almost as if he’s under some spell. You attach one of your webs to your balcony railing below and use it as a guide to fall down to it. You land on your balcony, Miguel following close behind as you open the sliding door to your bedroom.
After you close the door and blinds, you turn to find Miguel almost hovering over you. He looked like some kind of lost dog the way he kept following you around, begging for more of you. You gently kiss him and guide him over to your bed. He sits down on the edge of the bed and begins to pull your hoodie off your head as you help him take off his suit. Once your sweatpants are off as well, you gently push him onto his back on your bed. Goosebumps form all over your body, partially from exposure to the cold air in your room, and partially from seeing him like this underneath you again. Finally, you take his already hard cock, and slide it into your hole, causing a rough groan out of him as you begin to rock on his hips.
You take things nice and slow while you’re in control, knowing the moment you get sloppy he’ll start to take over for you. You kissed down his neck and collarbone as you rode him, with him gripping hard at your back and your hips. “Nng, m-missed you s-so much amor,” he groaned out. “Tan hermosa.” You begin to speed your thrusting, tugging at his hair to get strained noises out of him. His hands make their way up to your back, digging into your skin. But your quick to rip his hands out of your back and pin them above his head once his talons come out again, into your back this time. You also take your lips off of his and stop your thrusting.
Miguel searched your face for some kind of explanation to the sudden stop, to find you panting and nearly frozen still. You’re taken back to that fight, a result from his claws finding a way into your scars. You’re pulled back to reality by Miguel’s voice. “Amor, que paso?” he asks with concern. You quickly wipe the sweat off your face and look into his beautiful crimson eyes. You wanted to forget the pain he caused you all those years ago, but unfortunately you couldn’t. But, you were willing to forgive him though. “Nothing Miggy,” you say gently, pressing a soft kiss onto his lips. He tries to move his hands back onto you, but finds his hands still trapped to the headboard. He looks at you confused. “What did I say about the claws, Miguel.” 
“Ay, baby you know its hard for me to control them around you,” he says, slightly annoyed, driven by the need to touch you again. “Well you’re going to need to try to okay? For now though, you’re going to stay like this.” His face drops, and he makes a sound almost like a whine. “Ay coño, lo siento péro you don’t need to punish me.” You felt powerful hearing him whine and beg like this. You were denying a starving man of his woman, his source of energy. 
Arms squirmed in your hand, as you began to rock on top of him again. You made sure to not kiss him either, moving away whenever he would try to place his mouth onto yours. He whined as you picked up your speed, desperate to feel you again. “P-please, let me go cariño.” You moved your mouth down and whispered in his ear, running your finger up and down his stomach, causing him to melt under you and whimper like a madman. “Not just yet,” you whispered seductively, sending extra chills down his spine and into his stomach when you bit into his ear lobe.
Overcome with your own urge to feel him, you accidentally let go of his hands and moved yours to grab hold of each of his pecs as you planted kisses over his sternum. Suddenly, you’re overswept as Miguel is freed and takes control over the situation. “I love you amor, but you have to let me touch your,” he says in that beautiful, rich tone of his before he goes at his own pace: slamming himself into you. 
He goes much faster than you did, and you almost come there on the spot as he nearly breaks your bed with his ferocity. You grip onto his enormous triceps for leverage as you let out a series of incoherent moans. “You like that, huh?” he pants out. You shove your lips onto his to get him to stop talking. “I-if you’re gonna do this, n-ngh, you’re gonna have to s-hh-ut up,” you manage to get out in between your almost inhumane sounds. He nods and shoves his tongue into your mouth, exploring the insides of your cheeks while his tip slams into your walls, causing that white heat to begin to build up in your stomach.
His hands swarm across your body, making up for lost time before, and eventually land on your breasts as he begins to palm at them. Just as you thought he couldn’t arouse you any more than he already has, he moves his mouth along your jawline, down to your neck, and begins to mark it with kisses and slight sucking. “I-I missed you too, Miggy.” 
That nickname you had for him drove him crazy. So crazy in fact, his next move was to drive his fangs into your neck, making sure to not let his poison seep into your neck. He presses his lips and sucks on the skin on your neck while sinking his fangs deeper into you. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, as you held onto his broad shoulders while he basically slammed you into the bed. “Oh Miguel,” you moaned out. He nodded, not able to speak, due to his fangs still being attached to your neck. You could tell he was getting close too with how sloppy his pace was getting. 
You’re washed over with bliss when the heat in your stomach finally takes over the rest of your body, almost clawing at Miguel while you come. His hands put more pressure on your breasts as he comes as well, moaning into the softness of your neck. Once you two have both finished, he slowly pulls his teeth out of your neck, and licks up the metallic liquid with his warm, delicate tongue. He slowly pulls his cock out of the sweetness of your cunt and rolls over to lay next to you on the bed, dragging his fingers across your pussy, taking the cum his fingers picked up and putting it in his mouth.
He plants a kiss onto your forehead before saying, “One second, princesa, I’ll be right back,” as he got up to go to the bathroom. He must have been in there for about 10 minutes before coming back into your room and reaching out his hand for yours. You take his hand as he leads you out of bed, reminded of how naked you are when you reveal yourself from the sheets.
He leads you into the bathroom to see that hes drawn a bath for the two of you. You blush slightly at the gesture, as he gets in first and leads you in. The touch of the water numbs your body slightly with the mixture of the cold room to the hot bath water. You almost melt as you sink in, laying your back against Miguel’s chest as he wraps his arms around your body. You could fall asleep right here, mixed between the comfort of the bath water, and Miguel’s body finally against yours again. The bathtub was kind of small, so his body was taking up most of the space, causing him to basically engulf you. 
You were surrounded in him, his lips almost attached to the nape of your nack, his arms consuming your upper half, and his legs intwining with your lower half. He wiggles slightly to reach the soap, puts it in the water to wet it, and lathers it onto your body. First, he washes your arms, rubbing the soap back and forth over your arm hairs, and even under your armpits. Next, he moves to wash your chest. He takes the soap and moves it over your breasts and your underboob, causing you to move in closer to him. His response is to peck kisses into the crook of your neck, getting little giggles out of you. You stop giggling though after he stops kissing you and stays still for a second. 
You wait in silence for him to do something. “...Miggy…you okay?” you ask when he doesn’t say anything. You turn your head slightly to see him. Out of your peripherals, you see him staring solemnly at your back. He’s finally seen them. The four almost perfectly placed scars warping across your back. They were huge. And he knows they’re from him. You turned your head back to the front and dug it in between your knees, pushing out your back even more. Miguel delicately traced his fingers over them, as you waited curled up for him to say something. “I’m sorry,” is all he can manage to weakly push out. 
You decide to turn your body around to face him, splashing water around in the cramped bathtub while doing so. His eyes are down with sadness creeping over his face. You cup his cheek with your hand and press a loving, gentle kiss onto his lips. You bring his arms over your shoulders and wrap your legs around his hips. You wanted to be engulfed by him. You were so pressed on staying mad at him for so many years that you forgot how much you loved being this close to him. You could hear his heart softly beating as you pressed your head against his chest. He soon wrapped his arms around your body, taking you into him, and dug his head into the crook of your neck, almost as if he was hiding. 
You stayed there for a moment before eventually turning back around. You laid your head in a position so you could still see his face if you looked up. You could feel yourself slowly dozing off in his arms. Your last thoughts before you slipped out of consciousness was of how perfect this was. 
You had found your home again. Moreso, he found his way to you. And this time, you were never going to let go.
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a/n: i just wanted to say thank you to everyone for sticking around during this series. i know it wasn't meant to be 4 parts and only 2 so i really appreciate everyone who stuck around for the whole thing. make sure to look out for my next thing cause i wanna start writing an enemies to lover oc x miguel thing so please go and support that once thats out. thanks guys!!!!
taglist: @jenniferdixon05207 @sweetanimebakery @azxulaa @daimiyu @vinkar345 @pinkninja200 @luvstich @rin-matsuoka345-blog @lillunna @konniebon @hwanunjin @simp-nerd-16 @chucklefuvk @elwyn7 @haileybxxr @ilovemymomscooking @lansy-4 @maxi-ride @d4rno @callsign-blue @obamnas-soda @sophipet @violentlyneon @d1lf-loverrr @afro-hispwriter @kirke-is-my-name @ilovemiguelohara @lavnderluv @konniebon @msecho19 @kiamewrites
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eddiesghxst · 6 months
Text
PRICE OF FAME (PART 8/12)
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18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader
summary: eddie is bad with words
contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, moreee jealous!eddie, mentions of piercings, smut, King James III, flirting, tension tension tension, and eddie being... idk, here u go <3
word count: 6.2k
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“A date?”
The room has kicked into an orderly chaos compared to how it was just seconds ago. Richie is rallying the boys out of the room, an assistant is walking through with a trash bag to clean up the disastrous aftermath of pre-show rituals, and James is looking at you like you both have all the time in the world.
“Yeah, I mean… we don’t have to call it a date,” he shrugs, “we can just… hang out, maybe? Grab a bite to eat, maybe? Whatever you want.”
And oh god, Eddie was right.
And fuck— Eddie.
You scan the room for any sign of Eddie, but you find none, just the remains of smoke in the air and an irritated assistant picking up sticky bottles.
James’ hand has dropped from your waist, and his fingertips now lightly dance across the back of your hand, slinking around to grasp two of your fingers and give a light squeeze. Your heart races, eyes snapping back to his kind gaze. “Oh, um… okay, yeah.” You nod.
James smiles and tells you he’ll be out in the crowd with you in a little bit, and you nod before making your way out of the room. 
You said yes.
You said yes to James’ date, and honestly, a small part of you is excited because, god, it’s been such a long time since you’ve been on a date.
It’s hard to find time to date when you’re busy jumping from band to band, writing articles and music reviews, and still, somehow, managing to balance your own home life.
However, you were also under the impression that you and James had more of a friendship than anything romantic, so a bigger part of you is shocked (and slightly annoyed that Eddie managed to catch onto it before you did).
And then there’s that feeling. That tiny feeling in the corner of your mind that just wishes it was Eddie who had asked you. It’s a small feeling, yes, but it has a loud voice, and you find yourself growing irritated that you’re even thinking about Eddie when he only ever made things difficult.
But is it wrong to want somebody who doesn’t know what they want for themselves? Is it wrong to want someone who can’t even bring themselves to look you in the eye and be honest for one minute?
Because it’s no secret, the chemistry brewing between you and Eddie, from the moment you met, there was an obvious attraction, and the only thing that got in the way of that was Eddie’s aversion towards your job— which is beyond your control. 
And though there’s obviously a sexual attraction between you both, you can’t seem to deny the emotional connection you also share— because you and Eddie are more alike than what meets the eye.
Clearly, you both share a love for music, but you also grew up with similar experiences— from being teased for being and liking different things than your peers to having your heart broken by who you imagined would be your forever person.
God, why are you thinking about Eddie when you’ve just scored a date with James? 
You’re not paying attention when you step out of the dressing room, so you’re shocked and slightly spooked when you feel a hand wrapping around your bicep and tugging you off to the side of the door.
It’s Eddie; you know it’s Eddie because you’ve become an expert at depicting Eddie’s scent, and right now, you’re drowning in him. 
Eddie’s eyes are sharp and angry with a chilling undertone of something you can’t quite pinpoint. Fear? Jealousy? Resistance?
“Not into each other, huh?”
You blink at Eddie, still trying to find your way through the daze of events you’ve just gone through, and your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, “Oh, for fucks sake, Eddie. Are you serious—” “You can’t stand here and lie to me when I just witnessed whatever the fuck that was in there.” He gestures to the wall beside you, the wall that separates you and Eddie from James.
“It wasn’t anything.” You lie. 
Eddie doesn’t buy it, however, because he’s leaning in closer, alcohol and mint-coated breath fanning across your face as he calmly asks, “Then what did he say?”
You shake your head, dizzy with his proximity and the fear that James could walk out any second and see you and Eddie practically pressed against each other and misread the situation— because even though you may not precisely like James romantically, you still care for him, and you don’t want to hurt his feelings. 
How will you let him down easily after the date, then? What if the date goes well, and James thinks you’re more interested in him than you actually are? This is a mess, and your mind is a whirlwind of things you shouldn’t have done.
You blink through the haze once again, “Huh?”
Eddie’s jaw ticks, “What did he say to you? You looked shocked; what’d he say?”
Oh god, Eddie saw that? You thought he’d maybe have gotten bored of watching, and now you wish Richie had bursted through the doors just a few seconds earlier. And why do you even care? Why do you care that Eddie saw or what his reaction might be if you tell him the truth? 
Your heart is racing, and Eddie’s eyes are beautiful, and he’s still holding your arm, and you hate how much you want to scream at him to just let you in. Because, suddenly, you don’t want to go on a date with James, even if James is the kinder route, the more willing candidate, the one that makes more sense.
“Why do you care, Eddie?” You snap.
“Because I,” Eddie pauses, frustration settling into his bones. He looks at you like you might be the only thing he’s ever truly seen, and you don’t realize how your fingers are curling around his elbow, both of your fingertips sinking into the warmth of what could be.
“Eddie!” 
Eddie removes his hand from you as if your skin is hot to the touch, and you drop your hand as well, curling your fingers into the palm of your hand and clenching with a deep breath.
Eddie turns to Richie, who’s holding a clipboard and barking directions at staff and crew. “Come on, man, you’re on in 30.” Richie waves his hand.
Eddie turns back to you, dark eyes now cleared and holding urgency as he speaks, “Can you just— fuck,” Eddie tugs at his curls, and your face twists in confusion. You say his name at the same time that Richie calls him once again, and Eddie grumbles, “One second, Rich!” Eddie calls back.
“Just don’t go anywhere for the first few songs, okay?”
“What?”
“Eddie, 10 seconds!” 
And Eddie’s pacing backward as he speaks to you, “Just the first few songs. Please?”
Please. You never thought you would hear that word coming from Eddie— and your stomach twists, but you nod anyway, and then Eddie’s off to the stage.
For some reason, tonight has spun out in ways you’re having trouble wrapping your mind around, and you barely hear James walking out of the room until he presses a gentle hand to your shoulder, pulling your eyes to him.
He has your lightweight jacket in one hand as he offers it to you, “I was thinking maybe we could dip out now? I know a good place for burgers, and I figure we’ve seen the show plenty of times now— I mean, unless if you’d still like to watch, that’s not a problem,” He’s rambling, and you find it cute, so you reach out a hand to press to his arm and thank him for your jacket.
And you feel bad, glancing over your shoulder as you hear the crowd screaming upon the band's entrance, but you figure James is right— you have seen the show plenty of times, so one night off won’t hurt, will it? And besides, it’s not the big finale yet, so you’re not really missing anything.
You nod as you slip on your jacket, “Yeah, let’s go; I’m in the mood for a good meal anyway.”
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James’ universe is fun and bright and spontaneous, all things he is. It’s something you find yourself admiring as you watch him jump from game to game at the arcade he dragged you to after dinner.
You were both full and satisfied from heavy burgers and fries, and James decided you both needed a way to shake off the food coma; and, as James said, “What better way to wake up than lose money in a bunch of rigged games?”
You start strong with a winning streak in Mortal Kombat, Daytona USA, and Star Wars, but you eventually lose your stretch when James crushes you in Dance Dance Revolution. You made him go a second time, but you still lost, and James called your frown cute, and it made your stomach twist because— fuck, this is a date. You aren’t here as just friends.
You make your way around the arcade until you both decide to call it a night and wrap it up with a few rounds of Pac-Man. It’s chillier in the city tonight, so James takes it upon himself to haul over a taxi to take you both to the hotel.
It’s nearing midnight when you and James walk into the hotel lobby, well past the ending of the show, and you’re holding your breath all the way to the elevator, silence taking over when the doors shut. And tonight was fun and lighthearted, and you’d hate to end it on a dull note.
You should just rip the bandaid off. Do it quick and get it over with so you don’t mislead James, because god, he’s such a good guy, and you’re just… you’re all confused with yourself and— fuck, James is looking at you, just do it.
“I think we should just stay friends.” You rush out.
If James is surprised, you wouldn’t be able to tell by a long shot because he’s simply shoving a hand in his pockets and shrugging, “Yeah, I kind of figured when you avoided holding my hand.” He scratches at his neck, and you fail to hold back the sympathetic twist on your face, “I had a really great time, I did, but I just can’t do anything serious right now…” You shyly explain, and James nods his head.
It falls awkwardly silent, and you curse Richie for booking the entire crew near the top of the building because the floor numbers seem to change slower than the seasons. James breaks the silence just four floors away from your destination, “It’s Eddie, isn’t it?”
You freeze at that, head snapping to look at James in shock, “I— what?”
James shrugs for the second time and turns to the doors, “I kind of clocked it as soon as you joined; you two have some weird thing going on.” He halfheartedly teases, and you feel your body heating up because if James can notice it, then who else has noticed it? God, this is more of a mess than you thought.
“Nothing is going on there,” you lie, “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but Eddie hates my guts, so.” You jokingly shrug. James laughs to ease the tension, only glancing back at you when you slow to a stop and the doors open, “I had a fun night, too, by the way. No hard feelings.” And with a wink, he wanders off to his room, and you’re left stepping out into the hallway. When you turn the corner, you find yourself wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole because right outside of your door stands Eddie Munson.
He watches you walk down the empty hall until you stand before him. He’s leaning a shoulder against your doorframe, one hand tucked in his pocket as the other works his cigarette back and forth from his lips. He’s in his usual all-black attire, and his eyes are dark beneath the smudged eyeliner and eyeshadow from the show. And it seems as if he got off the stage and came straight here, seeing as his hair is still slightly damp with sweat and the chains on his neck stick to his chest.
He speaks around a cloud of smoke, dark hooded eyes peering down at you with a gaze so sharp you almost cower, “Where were you?”
Jesus Christ, the audacity of this man.
Your initial thought is to snap back at him and ridicule him for being an asshole— and what’s his deal with always coming to your room? But then you remember you walked out on him when he’d asked you to stay for the first few songs.
“I’m sorry, Eddie, I—” “You went on a date.”
You freeze at that, blinking up at him as your face twists in confusion, “How do you know that?”
“Because where else would you be?” He counters.
“Maybe I got sick.” You argue, and Eddie raises an eyebrow, eyes dancing over your figure, “You don’t look sick.” He points out.
Your eyebrows pinch in frustration as Eddie takes another hit of his cigarette, “What do you want? I already said I’m sorry— which is much more than you’ve ever done, by the way.” 
“I said sorry.” Eddie snaps. Eddie snuffs out his cigarette in the large plant next to the door as you scoff, turning to angrily shove your keycard into the door, “What, that shitty apology in the garden alleyway? You call that an apology? How fucking dense are you?” You open the door, moving to step in until Eddie’s fingers wrap around your arm, turning you back to him, “I said sorry. An actual apology, I did it, and you weren’t fucking there to hear it.” He seethes.
And woah, what the fuck does that mean? You weren’t there to hear it? What does he mean?
You blink, head shaking in confusion as you gaze up at Eddie, brows furrowed, eyes searching for an answer as you ask, “What do you mean?”
Eddie’s eyes are so beautiful, with swirling pools of forest ground and the tiniest specks of honey, and you believe somewhere within his eyes lives a fairy that gives him that ability to pull you in every time. He’s a hypnosis of a human, and it’s dangerous the way you can’t seem to fight through it.
Your eyes flutter shut when Eddie leans close enough to graze his lips over yours, and your heart races in anticipation of a kiss, but you can physically feel Eddie holding himself back.
“Eddie,” you lowly say, “What do you mean?”
Eddie turns his head to where his lips kiss the skin of your cheek, breath tickling the warm skin and sending shivers down your spine. He lets out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes tight and muttering a curse under his breath as your hands slink up his chest to curl into the fabric of his shirt. The soft, curly strands of Eddie’s hair dance across your lips, and you want to scream because every inhale and exhale of your lungs is full of nothing but Eddie.
His name prances across your tongue once more, and Eddie cracks.
Eddie cracks wide open; one last hit of your hammer, and he’s putty in your hands, mouthing at you as if his life depended on it, devouring you and breathing you and pushing you until you have nowhere to go but inside your room.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie mumbles against your lips. “I’m sorry… let me make it up to you.”
You’re breathless and dizzy from lack of air, and Eddie is pushing you back onto the hotel bed, “I— what?”
Eddie’s fingers slip under your top, cool fingers pressing into your warm skin and causing your breath to hitch against his lips, “Let me make you feel good.” Eddie whispers against your lips.
And fuck, this is insane. 
This is insane.
Just a few hours ago, you would’ve shoved Eddie away from you and told him to eat shit, but for some reason, with the way Eddie’s touching you and talking so gently, you find your body melting into his touch as you nod your head. “Yes?” Eddie seems like he doesn’t believe it, and your stomach twists as you clench your thighs together, nodding once more, “Yes.” You confirm.
Eddie kisses you once again, hastily and eagerly, as his hands push your top further up your torso. Your muscles tense and twitch beneath Eddie’s calloused fingers, and Eddie hums against the softness of your mouth, panting against your lips as he repeats, “Gonna make you feel good. Make up for what I did.”
You breathlessly laugh, “S’gonna take a lot more than this, Munson.” 
And although you were slightly serious with that comment, you suppose Eddie takes it as more of a challenge as he shoves your top entirely over your chest, pulling away to tug the shirt off of you and toss it to the side.
Eddie surges forward to press sloppy kisses against the uncovered skin of your chest, sucking tiny little marks as he moves further down your body, pressing a hand to your chest to push you down into the bed when he reaches the waistband of your skirt.
It’s a black denim skirt, and Eddie takes a moment to admire how they hug your thighs perfectly— and he can’t seem to bring himself to remove it from your waist, so he pushes the skirt up around your hips instead. Your heart is racing, and you can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks as you attempt to close your thighs, but Eddie places his palms flat against the warm insides of them.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me already. I haven’t even taken off these cute little panties of yours.” Eddie presses a thumb to your cotton-covered clit, dragging the pad of his thumb down your slit and pressing into the damp spot. Your breath hitches, sparks flying throughout your body, and Eddie smiles. You whine, “I thought you were apologizing.” You frown.
Eddie hums, leaning forward to press a kiss right where your thigh meets the fold of your pussy. You squirm, and Eddie snickers, “I am.” He responds.
You sit up to lean on your elbows, glaring down at him between your thighs as you speak, “You’re not. You’re just teasing me.” You point out.
Eddie doesn’t respond as he hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, drags them down your legs, and drops them to the side, gaze flickering up to yours as you clench your thighs together. Eddie holds your gaze as he wraps his arms around your thighs, hooking his hands into the dip of your waist and tugging you to the edge of the bed. Your center throbs in anticipation as Eddie sinks to his knees on the carpet floor, dark eyes still locked onto yours as he fits his upper body between your thighs.
And Eddie doesn’t even bother looking between your thighs when he dips his head in and begins devouring you.
Eddie, you find, eats pussy like he has all the time in the world.
He’s sloppy with it, lapping at your center and suckling your clit until you’re a whiney mess beneath him. His fingers curl into the denim skirt that’s bunched around your hips, and his rings tauntingly wink up at you under the light as he clenches his fist against the material, tugging you closer to him so he can thrust his tongue further into you.
While Eddie is busy tasting you, you scramble to reach behind your back and unhook your bra. Between your thighs, Eddie watches as you toss the garment off to the side before cupping your tits in your hands and rolling your nipple between your middle and forefingers. Eddie moans against you, burying his face deeper into you and suckling enough to have you crying out in pleasure.
Eddie pulls back for a moment, sticky strings of his saliva and your arousal dripping from his lips as he removes one hand from your waist to sink two fingers into your cunt. You pant out his name, your face twisting in pleasure when he curls his fingers up against your walls. Your eyes are screwed shut so you don’t see Eddie leaning forward to purse his lips together and let a drop of saliva drip over your pussy and sinfully coat your clit. He’s quick to attach his mouth to the throbbing bundle of nerves, and you reach out a hand to thread your fingers through his hair, knuckles curling at the root to drag an animalistic growl from Eddie.
Eddie is one of the best, if not the best, head you’ve ever received. By the time you begin teetering over the edge, your thighs are twitching and tensing as if you’ve already come undone, and your chest is heaving beneath Eddie’s fingers as he toys with your tits.
When you cum, Eddie becomes greedier than he’d been before, licking and slurping up every last drop you have to give until you’re twitching away from him and pressing a shaky hand to his shoulder. 
Eddie slinks up your body, sinking his fingers into his mouth to clean off your wetness before you slink an arm around his shoulders and pull him down to kiss you. Eddie’s fingers are wet as they cup the left side of your face, and the feeling of something wet on your face would usually have you cringing in distaste, but you only moan and press yourself further into Eddie.
You mumble for him to take his shirt off, and Eddie follows swiftly, too eager to go back to kissing you. He shivers when your hands meet his bare chest, fingertips exploring the vast expanse of untold stories in ink, hard yet plush muscles of his arms flexing beneath your touch. 
“I wasn’t done saying sorry.” Eddie pants against your lips, and you breathily laugh, “You can finish some other time; I want to feel you now.” You respond, busying your hands with trailing down his lower stomach, sinking past the waistband of his leather pants.
Eddie kisses his way down your neck to begin sucking pretty bruises into the skin, and your core clenches when you realize Eddie is wearing nothing beneath the leather pants— and you try hard not to imagine how he’s probably been pressed up against the rough fabric, achy tip undeniably receiving pleasure from the sinful ways he uses his hips when he’s on stage. 
Your shock doesn’t end there, however, because when you sink lower to wrap your hand around his cock, your body goes still at the feeling beneath your fingertips. Against the fiery skin of your cheek, you feel Eddie’s lips stretch into a smile and your heart races.
“What’s the matter, princess? Find something you like, hm?” Eddie can’t help the way his voice shakes near the end because you're giving his cock an experimental squeeze and running a finger over the sudden surprise.
You smile as you speak, “Is that a piercing?”
Eddie hums, turning his head, nose smashing against the side of yours as he presses a kiss to the side of your mouth, “Maybe..” He teasingly confirms.
And god, you might pass out.
Eddie’s dick is pierced. You’re not sure what more you’d expect from a rockstar, but you’re still shocked and ushering him to remove the annoying restriction of his pants.
When Eddie finally gets rid of his leather pants, you’ve shifted to sit on your knees in the middle of the bed, and Eddie stalks over to the edge of the bed, beckoning you over.
You don’t waste time crawling over to him, eyes stuck on the pretty sight before you. And sure, it’s not the first time you’ve seen a pierced dick (you’ve spent too much time working with rockstars), but it sure as hell is the first time you’ll be fucking one— not to mention his cock is perfect. It’s shaped and cut to perfection, something you’d expect from a pornstar, but Eddie is not a pornstar, and god, the sight of the metal barbell nestled right beneath the pink tip on the underside of his cock— it’s dizzying to see.
You peer up at Eddie, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking him once, chest fluttering when he fails to hold back a moan. “It’s really pretty, Eddie.” You softly say, and Eddie sheepishly and breathlessly laughs as you squeeze at his tip. “Want you to fuck me with it.”
Eddie groans, muttering a curse as he leans forward to press his lips against yours, pushing you until you’re crawling back up the bed to lay beneath him.
“I’ve never been with someone with a piercing…” You admit, and Eddie smiles at you, and your stomach twists when he reaches down to gently guide your movement up and down the length of his cock.
“Really? You’ve never fucked a pierced cock before?” He manages to say through his pleasure. Your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek as you shake your head no, and Eddie snickers when you ask, “Have you?”
His lips quirk into a smile, “Honey, you think I got the piercing done without a test run on how it feels?” He jokes.
You snort at that, and Eddie beams at you. You swipe your thumb over his leaking tip, and Eddie curses, watching as you mindlessly bring the glistening pad of your finger up to your tongue and hum. 
“How’s it taste, sweetheart?” Eddie teases, and you hum as you respond, “Good. So good, wish I could taste more—” “No, no, no.” Eddie cuts you off with a shake of his head, reaching down to wrap a fist around himself.
“This isn’t about me. Plus, I’m losing my patience right now; I’ve been thinking about this since I fucking met you.” He presses himself flat against your pussy, and you gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders as he rolls his hips to slide himself up and down your wet cunt, the cool metal of the piercing catching onto your clit and sending shivers up your spine.
His gaze falls between your thighs to watch as your slick centers meet, cursing at the way your wet folds part around each drag of his cock. “You have such a pretty pussy, princess, fuck.” He rasps.
Your mind is spinning with the roll of Eddie’s hips, his dirty compliment, and his admission that he’s thought of fucking you before. You don’t dare to tell him you’ve thought of it too or that you’ve gotten off to the thought of it. You don’t even have to think about it because the tip of Eddie’s cock is catching the slickness of your entrance, and you’re gasping, body jerking in pleasure. Your lips accidentally smear against Eddie’s shoulder, and he hums, tilting his head and dipping to catch your lips in a sloppy kiss.
As he distracts you with his mouth, he slowly presses into you, and you lose your ability to keep up with Eddie’s lips because holy fuck— Eddie is bigger than you thought. Sure, you got a good look at him when he removed his pants to show you his surprise, but your mind must’ve been too muddled with lust to clock the size of him.
You can feel everything as he sinks into you, every vein running up the sides, and the mind-numbing sensation of the barbell as he presses into you. “Holy shit,” you breathlessly whisper against the skin of his shoulder, legs tightening around his waist as the burning yet toe-curling feeling settles in. Eddie snickers above you, “That good?”
You’re coherent enough to snap back at his cockiness, “No.”
Eddie laughs, and you want to make a snippy comeback, but it gets lost on your tongue when Eddie gives his hips one experimental roll.
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Eddie is pathetically close to cumming.
Eddie’s cock has only been nestled within your warm, wet, pulsing walls for barely two minutes, and he’s about to blow like he’s a goddamn teenager— and it doesn’t help how heavenly you sound and look writhing beneath him.
Eddie’s not sure where to look; your face, your tits, or the hypnotizing sight of your cunt sucking him in over and over with each thrust he gives you. “Fuck,” he curses, “You’re taking me so well, princess.” He leans in the nose at your cheek before licking at the curve of your jaw, shivering at the wet moan you pant into his ear.
“Been hiding this pretty pussy from me?” Eddie hums, sucking a delicate bruise right below your ear. And god, Eddie could spend forever like this, drilling into you and marking you everywhere and pulling these pretty sounds from you. Eddie’s so close, oh god.
You mewl at his words, hips squirming as Eddie snaps his hips into you, “No,” you whine, “You’ve been mean to me.” And Eddie thinks you’re awfully cute when you’re blissed out and pouting. And your eyes are glossy, lips slick with spit and swollen from kissing.
Eddie wishes he had a photographic memory because he doesn’t want to forget a single detail of this moment. Eddie has one hand clutching the sheets beside your head as he lets the other hand coast up your side to land on your chest, thumb brushing over your nipple to pull a moan from you. “I know,” Eddie lowly replies, “I’m sorry, princess.” He kisses your chin, and you clench around him.
Eddie’s fist clenches around the sheet, fighting to hold himself back as he presses deep into you and stills, cock twitching within your walls. “Gonna let me show you how sorry I am?” He asks.
You're hazy and cockdrunk, and Eddie can’t wait to unpack the fact that you go braindead when you’re fucked good. Eddie nudges himself into you, although he’s pressed all the way into your cunt, and you whimper before eagerly nodding.
“Yeah?” Eddie teases. You nod again, fingers digging into Eddie’s arm as you speak, “Yes, Eddie— fuck. Yeah, show me, please.”
Eddie almost loses it.
It’s slightly scary how much Eddie likes this, how much he’s enjoying this— the feeling of you beneath him, the wetness, the heat, the sweat-sticky touches, and the sloppy smattering of kisses. God, Eddie’s in love with it.
The short five-second break Eddie managed to pull from questioning (teasing) you was enough for him to get ahold of himself. Eddie sits up and grasps the back of your knee, hauling your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle at fucking you, and you gasp when his cock rubs against your spot.
Eddie doesn’t waste time once he gets the position situated. He leaves one hand splayed beside your head to hold him up as the other hand grips the warm flesh of your thigh before resuming his thrusting, this time at a deeper and quicker pace.
The sound of skin meeting and the wet sloshing noise of sex echoes through the room amongst the mix of moans and sultry-soaked remarks. Eddie doesn’t notice his hand slipping from your thigh and slinking up to wrap around your neck, but he hesitates when you whimper. He almost removes his hand, but you wrap a shaky hand around his wrist and nod— and fuck, Eddie will never be the same man after this.
Eddie can feel the heat and the pulse of your heart as his fingers tighten around your neck. Your moans are becoming more and more frequent and higher in pitch, and Eddie can feel the way you’re fluttering around him more sporadically, and he can’t wait to feel it when you cum.
Eddie leans over you, lips brushing your parted ones as he encourages you to let go, “Come on, let me feel it. I’m not leaving until you soak my cock, princess.”
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Your body is on fire.
It’s almost alarming how easily and well Eddie has unraveled you. His presence is nearly overwhelming with the way he’s hovering so close over you, but you love it— the tickle of his long curls on your shoulders and chest, the intoxicating smell of him, the dizzying hold he has around your neck— you preen for it.
You’re so close when Eddie tells you to cum, and you barely have enough time to prepare for the earth-shattering orgasm that ripples through you the second Eddie presses a thumb to your aching clit and rubs tight circles against it.
Your body tenses, and your moans crack upon the surface as you melt into him until you’re nothing but a quivering mess. Eddie talks you through it, tells you how pretty you sound and how good you feel wrapped around him. Your orgasm had hit you so hard that you barely registered the broken moan that came from Eddie before he pushed deep into you and emptied every last drop of himself into your pulsing heat.
Eddie curses, his cock pulsing within you, and you let out an exhausted yet satisfied sigh when he rolls his hips into you once more. You’re both silent for a long moment as you come back down to earth, Eddie’s forehead pressed against your shoulder as you subconsciously let your hand run up the side of his torso.
Eddie shifts to turn his head to where he can slightly see your face as he still hides against your shoulder, “Apology accepted?”
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Saturday morning, the next day, you wake up and want to bury yourself under the hotel sheets.
Last night was… interesting, to say the least. It was good— mind-blowing— but you still have that lingering feeling in your chest that maybe you and Eddie shouldn’t have slept together. Maybe you let him in too quickly. Maybe it was all a lie, Eddie’s ‘apology’. All the gentle caresses and the passion-filled kisses with the heart flutter words. Maybe it was all for show, just to get you to let your walls down so he could have at you.
Eddie didn’t spend the night with you.
In fact, Eddie practically ran out the door after your extremities were over, and you were left with the aftermath of spinning thoughts and an aching chest. So much for sorry.
The dining room is buzzing with chatter and laughter of excitement— today is the last off day before the final show of the residency— but you’re too in your head to join in on the conversation because Eddie won’t even look at you.
Your throat feels tight, and you spend the majority of breakfast just pushing your food around the plate, and you manage to pull a smile and nod your head when Naomi asks if you’re okay. But fuck, you want to scream.
You should’ve never believed Eddie when he told you he’d change or when he practically spent the entire night worshipping your body and begging for your forgiveness. Eddie didn’t want forgiveness. He just wanted to fuck you, and you should’ve known that from the second he kissed you.
But Eddie’s kisses can tell a hell of a lie, and damn you for falling for them.
You’re spooked when you feel a hand rest on your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s Richie, and he peers down at you and gives you a tight-lipped smile as he leans in and lowly speaks, “Can I speak with you outside?”
You nod, dropping your fork onto your plate and quietly rising from your chair. And for the first time today, Eddie looks at you. Your chest tightens, and you think it’s stupid that you’d been upset about this because it’s Eddie for fucks sake. He’s a rockstar, and he surely never made the mistake of presenting himself as if he was anything other than a man who fucks whoever they want and moves on the next day. Eddie’s jaw ticks, he looks away, and you bite your tongue as anger floods your body.
You ignore it as you turn around and follow Richie into the hallway.
You’re hardly paying attention when you both step out of the room, but the slamming of the door is the cue for Richie to start speaking. “Listen, Birdie,” he begins, “You know I adore you. I’m always in your corner, no matter what… But I have to put my boys first.”
It’s concerning, the way Richie is beginning this conversation, and it’s even worse when he can’t seem to look you in the eye for more than five seconds at a time. Your heart rate picks up, and you begin to think maybe…
No, Richie can’t know. There’s no way he’d know, right? Unless if someone told him. One of the band members, or James, or— fuck, there’s too many people that know at this rate. But you didn’t think it would reach Richie.
No, you’re just spinning out. Richie doesn’t know, and this is about something else; it has to be.
You shake your head, brows furrowed as you speak, “I’m not sure I understand.”
Richie glances around the corridor and shifts in his spot, scratching at the back of his neck as he speaks, “Listen, I uh,” he glances at you, and your heart drops because you now know why he’s pulled you aside. 
“I know about you and Eddie.”
————
part nine
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a/n: hiiii, you made it to the end !! IM SORRY FOR ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER FRIENDS, i promise there won't be anymore from here on out (i think hehe), BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS SMUTTY LITTLE PART, thank you for reading, ilysm and i appreciate all and any feedback <3
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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2
@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn
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bingbongsupremacy · 4 months
Text
Baby
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
Warnings: reader is able to get pregnant, pet names, argument, idk what else.
Summary: It's getting harder and harder to spend time with your husband and you have some really important news. (Pre-Outbreak)
*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist
ABC List
*****
The room is silent, the only noise coming from our TV. Light bounces off of the walls, casting a small glow on the coffee table that moves.
I curl deeper into the couch, watching as the clock ticks by.
8:30....9:15....10:45....11:12...
Finally I hear keys jingling from the front door.
" You're still up? " Joel's voice is tired and raspy. He pulls off his boots, leaving them near the front door. " Is Sarah still up? "
I shake my head, rubbing my heavy eyes. " No. She's over at Gina's, down the street, for a sleepover. "
Joel wanders into the kitchen, pulling a can of beer out of the fridge. He takes a swig before heading towards the living room. For a moment, neither of us talks.
" You were supposed to be home at 6. " I glance over at the man. I take in his appearance. His eyes are dark from clear exhaustion. His shirt is covered in grime. It's obviously been a long day.
" I was. " He agrees, not saying anything more. He takes another sip of his beer. Condensation forms on the can, dripping down his hand.
His answer doesn't satisfy me. " Why weren't you? Why didn't you call? " I press.
This has been happening often. Every few days he stays out later than normal, most of the time, he 'forgets' to call.
Joel lets out a sigh, obvious frustration filling his expression. " I got caught up in my work. It wasn't supposed to go past 6, but stuff happens. You know that, babe. "
Irritation fills my body. " And you couldn't have bothered to, I don't know, check your watch and maybe call me? I was worried sick, Joel. I stayed up even though I have to be up at 6 for work tomorrow. " I push myself up, looking towards his face. Looking for something, something other than annoyance.
I was really hoping he'd be here at 6.
" I didn't ask you to do that. You could've gone to bed. Don't blame me for your decisions. I told you, I lost track of time. I don't have my phone on me when I'm working. " Joel's gaze meets mine.
Anger runs through my body. Usually I'm not this quick to anger but the hormones are driving me insane. The stress of unknowing along with Joel's careless attitude sends rage flowing through my body. " You really could give less of a shit about Sarah and me, huh? " I seethe, not thinking through my words.
Joel's eyes narrow. " What the fuck do you mean? " He starts getting defensive. " Of course I give a shit about you! I fucking work my ass off, for you two! " Joel's tone rises.
" Then why do you keep doing shit that makes us worry? " I exclaim. " You could have called at any point and it would've helped me feel better. I understand that you don't keep your phone on you while working, but is it really that hard to take a five minute break to call me? God-you need a break anyways! You'll fucking hurt yourself if you're constantly working. " My heart pounds. I stand up, trying to get some space between the man and I.
Joel stands up as well. His eyes burn into mine, sending a shiver of discomfort down my spine.
I hate when we get into arguments. My hormones and his exhaustion are mixing together to create a toxic cloud of anger and frustration.
" Like you'd even answer the fucking phone. " Joel rolls his eyes. " You've been so busy talking to your stupid fucking friends that it's nearly impossible to call you sometimes. "
He isn't wrong. I found out I was pregnant a few weeks ago, and I wanted-no I needed to tell someone. I wanted to make the announcement to Joel and Sarah important, something memorable. At the time, I just needed to tell someone else.
They've been there for me this entire time, helping me plan tonight. Helping me plan the dinner and gift for Joel.
A gift he never got to open and a dinner he never got to eat.
" Well I gotta talk to someone, Joel. You're never around anymore. " I snap.
" I'm working! " Joel lets out a breath.
" Your unbelievable. " I shake my head. I let out an angry laugh. " You know what, fuck this, Joel. You're not even listening to me. The point isn't that you're working late, it's that you don't bother to call home and tell me about it. I care about you, Joel. What-What if you got hurt? What if you got into a car crash or fucking died somehow? I'd have no idea because you don't bother to call me. All I want is one call, and that's too much to ask of you. " I push past the broad shouldered man. " Your dinner's in the fucking oven. It's your favorite. "
With that I storm upstairs, grateful Sarah wasn't here to witness the fight. I barely close the bedroom door before the tears start to flow.
Downstairs I hear Joel curse as he drops something on the ground. I lean against the door, doing my best to listen to the man below. His footsteps die off as he most likely settles onto the couch.
I just want him to call home.
_______
The next morning I leave before Joel wakes up. I send a quick text to Sarah, letting her know there's some food in the fridge.
My day seems to fly by. Piles of paperwork seem to disappear in minutes. Before I know it, it's time to head home.
An unsettled feeling wracks my stomach, surely not a good feeling for the baby. I'm still pissed at Joel. I just wish he understood where I'm coming from.
I unlock the front door and am immediately met with silence.
No one's home.
I let out a small sigh, walking towards the kitchen. My eyes widen in surprise when I spot Joel sitting at the kitchen table, a pair of small shoes in his hands.
He found the gift.
Of course he did, I left it on the dresser last night.
" Surprise. " I state while making my way to the fridge. " You're gonna be a daddy. Again. " My voice is unenthusiastic. Not the way I planned telling him at all.
" I'm so fucking sorry. " Joel blurts out. He runs his rough fingers over the small white laces, following the rhythm of the string. " I'm an asshole. "
" That you are. " I agree.
Joel finally looks up at me. His sad expression breaks my anger. Suddenly, I'm torn. Do I keep acting angry or do I feel bad for him?
" I deserve that. I-I shouldn't have yelled at you last night. Pregnant or not- You didn't deserve that. I took out my anger on you. I've...fuck I'll just tell you. I've been working late to try to make some extra money for us. I wanted to take you somewhere for our anniversary. "
I take a seat next to him, shock filling my body. I had no idea.
" You're right, I should've called you. That was a dick move. I...I don't know why I didn't. I guess I was just scared I'd be tired and I'll accidentally tell you something? It doesn't fucking matter now. "
" Oh Joel..."
He continues. " I'm sorry about dinner last night. I should've come home. " He finishes, finally setting the shoes down into the small gold box I put them in originally.
I don't say anything. I wrap my arms around the man, sinking my head into the crook of his warm neck. " Yes, you should've called, but I shouldn't have have been so aggressive. My emotions have just been all over the place. " My eyes begin to tear up. I feel a tightness in the back of my throat as I pull away from Joel. " I feel so much angrier than I usually do. "
Joel pulls me back into his embrace. " It's okay, honey. It's the baby. It's okay. " He tries to sooth me. " I love you so much, and I promise, I'm going to cut back my hours. "
" And you're gonna call, right? " I look up at him from my spot against his chest.
" Yes, I swear I'll call from now on. I have to, what if something happens to you and the baby. " He furrows his brows in worry. " I'll call you every hour. I promise. "
I let out a small laugh, wiping a tear away. " I think every few hours is okay, babe. "
" No every half hour. Who knows what could happen. Your office has steep stairs-we should see if the elevator there is fixed yet. " Joel mutters.
" Okay that might be a little overkill. " I crinkle my nose. " How about you just call when you're going to be late. Alright? "
" I can do that. "
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