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pinkrelish · 1 year

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶After a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend, and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn't exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining.✶

NSFW — slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, flirting, mutual pining, angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, depictions of poverty, sort of grumpy x sunshine but eddie's just tired, reader and eddie are mid-late 20's

chapter: 1/20 [wc: 5.5k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 1: Surprise, Surprise

“Yes.” A simple answer which spawned as many awkward scenarios, as it did great ones. Your name was spray painted on the side of a bridge, you spent nights learning to tango on abandoned rooftops, the amount of tales you accrued of bad dates could fill a self-help book.

Whatever the question was, the answer was “yes.” Life was more exciting that way.

Well, your policy usually lended itself to exciting adventures, anyway.

Currently, you were sat behind a desk with your boss, Mr. Moore, who slouched on his black stool with his cheek propped on his fist, pointing a pencil at a customer’s pink invoice sheet in front of you, explaining who to call in the spiral-bound catalog for the parts to be shipped.

The tall counter top partially obscured the both of you from employees and customers alike, but as you soon realized, the number of employees was slightly above two, and the customers even less; and if any of them paid you any mind, you couldn’t tell from the disorienting mix of exhaust fumes, dirty oil, and grease wafting in from the glass door on the left.

Thus began the first day of your new job at David’s Auto Repair. Boring.

————

Your second and third days were hardly different. Arriving at the butt crack of dawn and beginning the routine that definitely wasn’t in the ad in the newspaper: clean the bathrooms (hey, at least they had two), start the coffee pot after scrubbing off years of neglect caked onto the inside, and organize the paperwork Mr. Moore left for you in his office.

Oh, and most importantly, after locking up your bike outside the front door, you made your way through the echoey workshop and poked your head out the back door to the parking lot–which, by all means, was a gravel alleyway with overgrown trees blocking your view beyond the sleek black car parked next to the dumpster.

“Morning!” you greeted the one employee who arrived early and stayed late. “Eddie, right?”

The man leaning against the gray brick wall didn’t bother acknowledging you. Didn’t lift his head from its dropped back position, nor open his eyes. Definitely didn’t take the cigarette out of his mouth to bestow you the gift of his chipper attitude, nor did he uncross his arms to offer you the bare minimum wave.

And much like the other days, you sat perched behind your desk and beamed up at him as he walked past you to the break room. And as usual, he slid his gaze to you. And like normal, he didn’t say anything.

But he did hold your eye contact for a fraction of a second longer, albeit, he looked a bit frightened when he did, as if he were suspicious of your smile.

You listened to the clunk of his heavy boots fade down the hallway, then return with him holding a mug of coffee.

This time, as he walked by, he remained vigilant, and your grin went ignored by his stupid big brown eyes surrounded by envious lashes.

Lucky you, the reception area was essentially a glass cage. Behind the black pleather seats for customers was the glowing blue sky, and beside you were floor to ceiling windows showcasing the artificially bright garage where the man in grease stained coveralls twisted gaudy rings off his fingers and placed them on a tray with his coffee, before picking up a dirty rag and popping open the hood of the car he worked on past closing last night.

“You’re welcome for the coffee,” you mumbled in a mocking tone, sneering at his red name patch–Eddie. “Jerk.”

————

Friday was different. You locked up your bike, chucked your backpack into your chair behind the desk, and made your way to the back of the garage for the routine, “Good morning.”

For some reason, you decided to reveal your whole self; more than your head stuck out the door, or rising above the countertop customers leaned on when trying to schmooze deals on parts–hell if you knew how to do that, anyway. You didn’t get paid enough to bargain.

You stepped onto the uneven gravel and surveyed the scenery, looking both ways down the alley to the major roads on either side leading to the heart of downtown Hawkins. Absolutely dismally silent. Void of life. Except for the small things you never noticed, like faraway birds, the hum of a distant motor, buzzing bugs before they disappeared for the cooler months. You felt the dew settling on your forearms, and swore you could smell impending rain on the cloudless day.

“Is it always this quiet?” you asked, face pinched in confusion as you took it all in. “I swear I can hear my own thoughts.”

Eddie may not have appreciated your joke, but he did surprise you.

He kept one of his arms crossed over his stomach, and took the cigarette from between his lips to flick the ashes. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked the dilapidated fence across from him.

Feeling cheeky, you schooled the thrill out of your voice from getting a response out of him, and said, “What gave it away?”

A drag on his cigarette was his wordless answer. Fair.

“I’m from New York.” The implied City followed without clarification. “Just moved here last week. My roommate’s from Hawkins, and she had to move back to help take care of her parents. They’re older and her dad has some health problems, and yeah, I couldn’t afford rent on my own, so you know, why not. Why not follow her to a town so small it’s impossible to find on a map.”

All your talking earned you a magnificent thing. Eddie finally opened his eyes, if only to pin you with a mild glare, and a skeptic pinch between his brows.

He said more to himself than you, “You must really like your roommate to come here.” The inflection at the end was both amusement and contempt, no doubt.

“We met in our first year of college and became best friends like that–!” You snapped. “Both theater kids going to school for acting, and we later made a comedy troupe with a few other people. When she asked if I wanted to move with her, I said ‘yes.’” Inclining your upper body towards him, you explained, “It’s sorta my thing. If anyone asks me anything, I say ‘yes.’ Obviously, I can veto shit that’s dangerous or crosses any boundaries, but it’s my policy to try everything. Life makes better stories that way.”

Your unique brand of wisdom furthered his obvious distaste for you.

Eddie inhaled his vice until the orange glow burned to the filter. Smoke fell from his mouth in a rush as if he were about to speak again, but he didn’t. He merely stared at you. And if he were having a staring contest, he won.

“Well, have a good day, then,” you said, spinning on the toe of your shoe.

You sat in your glass zoo for the day shuffling papers, making calls, and filling out forms. Most definitely not talking to the guy who appeared annoyed at your very existence.

Unfortunately for him, Hawkins was tiny and the pickings were slim.

Maybe it was his eyes, or the way the short layers of his choppy hair cut escaped his low bun to curl themselves in face-framing waves, or the fact he was twenty-years younger than the other two mechanics, but you took a liking to Eddie, much to his dismay. And due to your affinity for his annoyance, you noticed the subtle changes in his appearance sooner than you should.

————

Dark purple circles announced the lack of sleep under Eddie’s eyes before the bags could. Bloodshot and struggling to open past a sliver, he sucked down half his cigarette before the routine minutes of peace he carved into his strict schedule were interrupted by the newest knot in his muscles.

“Good morning!” you said.

“Morning,” he returned without thinking about it. Rookie mistake.

You stood closer this time, inching down the brick wall, approaching him as if he would startle like a wild animal to get a better look at the years wearing heavy on the fine lines etched into his face. Perhaps no longer ‘fine.’

“You good?”

He didn’t have the energy to put up his usual front. With his chin dipped to his chest, he kept his eyes closed, nearly drifting to sleep as he muttered, “Long night.”

“Ah.”

Your clumsy shuffling alerted him to your movement, and he reluctantly observed you standing a few feet in front of him, rocking on your heels. He filled his chest with an incredulous sigh before you even spoke.

“You seem like you could use some cheering up,” you beamed. “I could juggle for you! Should I do three or four?” Eddie’s jaw went slack, and the cigarette stuck to the wetness inside his chapped lips. You bent down to gather large rocks into your palms, opting for four when he didn’t answer.

You stood up and stepped back. Made a big show of tracing invisible arcs above your head with your gaze, readying your hands. Sucking in a breath. Building suspense while his expression slowly crept into one of tempered curiosity.

Tensing, you tossed all four rocks into the air, and made a genuine effort to catch them before they fell unceremoniously around you, bouncing off the gravel in your scramble.

Clasping your hands behind your back in feigned shyness, you announced, “I don’t know how to juggle.”

For a moment you thought he was going to continue to regard you as if you were a bug in his coffee.. Then his veneer cracked.

He snorted. The cute way, when someone’s trying to suppress it. A subtle shake in their shoulders, keeping their head down, and their smile hidden behind the heel of the palm.

Eddie hugged his arm tighter over his chest, and chastised himself, “Why’d I let that get me.”

And truly, when he flicked his gaze to you with the lopsided remnant of his grin, you were imprinted with the heat of his wonderment, and your body remembered that feeling. Sensing it later when you sat at your desk, tapping your pencil, rattling off a series of numbers and letters for engine parts, and you snuck a coy look over the phone at the exact moment Eddie turned around to ask Carl for a wrench instead of getting it himself from the tool box near the window.

And he felt your stare during lunch when you promised an irate customer their car would be ready by the end of business hours, and hung up the phone with the type of heavy-handedness one used when implying a ‘fuck you’ without stating it.

You pushed yourself from the desk and went to the fridge in front of the circular table in the break room, eyeing Eddie’s odd choice as you walked by. A bologna sandwich–fairly normal–but also a stained orange tupperware container with an array of dried out microwaved leftovers. A corner of spaghetti, pale instant mashed potatoes with three peas stuck on top, unidentifiable sludge that may have been beef stew at one point, and a handful of Kraft mac n cheese.

Pitiful amounts of food that most people would’ve thrown out.

Not that you should judge. Your lunch was the blandest rice-based meal your roommate’s mom made the night before. The woman had never heard of salt, much less other spices, but she was letting you live in their attic for free until you and Bobbie found a place to live.

Breaking your chain of thoughts, you smiled at Eddie on your way out.

He didn’t look up from his paperwork.

Wholly ignored.

————

Over the rest of the month, you learned there wasn’t a definitive pattern to which days of the week were hardest for Eddie, but it was clear when he was enduring the worst.

As the evenings grew cooler, you left the lobby door open, and in doing so, were wise to the bite in his words, the edge to his voice. The quick apologies to Carl when he let his frustration show. The fluidity of ‘fucks’ flying past his mouth, the way he wrung his nape while staring into the distance, and the lurking stress of bottled emotions causing his teeth to grind.

He approached you with concern spurned from the windows being painted black with night.

“You don’t have to stay behind, you know that, right?” Eddie got your attention in the doorway. You blinked at him, still seeing the words of the book you were reading swim past your vision. “I have a set of keys. I can lock up when I’m done.”

It was the most he’d said to you in two weeks. Three entire sentences composed of more words than he’d uttered if you added them all up since your juggling stunt.

“I don’t mind.”

A meager response which resulted in a standoff.

Eddie wasted no time bunching his shoulders at your defiance. He left streaky fingerprints on the door handle as he reached for his neck, and tucked his fingers under his collar to run his thumb along his chain necklace in a self-soothing gesture. A layer of grime coated his skin. His disheveled hair stuck to his sweaty, dirty neck. The front of his coveralls were blackened with grease, as was the white tank top he wore underneath, peeking above the unfastened top snap.

On the other hand, you overturned your palms and glanced around the barren room. “Is it really that much of a bother that I’m sitting in here being quiet?” you drawled.

“Yes.” Automatic irritation.

“It’s not like I have somewhere to be.”

“Don’t have a comedy routine to rehearse with your roommate?” he intoned in complete monotony.

“Ha-ha,” you replied, just as emotionless. You thought about correcting him in regards to you and Bobbie no longer doing stand up, but decided to grab your backpack and leave without putting up a fight. His concern about you staying late may not be genuine, but it was evident he wanted–or needed–you gone. You didn’t want to push his boundaries when he showed this level of discomfort, especially when the burden of fatigue wore beyond acceptable exhaustion, and he was ready to snap, no matter how hard he tried to quell it.

You surrendered, “Bye, Eddie.”

No reply.

In total darkness, you unchained your bike and hopped on, pedaling past the mailbox when you heard the thunderous slams of the service doors being lowered shut.

And you made it to the edge of the trees before coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the empty street, cracking your neck at the speed of which you whipped around to gawk.

Your heartbeat skipped, then timed itself with the extreme drum beat and opening wail of a guitar accompanied by high-pitched screamed lyrics.

The music may have been muffled, and the inside fluorescent lights struggled to penetrate the dense fog from the upper warehouse windows, but it was as if Eddie was subjecting the desolate parking lot to his own personal Judas Priest concert, hearing be damned.

You didn’t even know the dusty radio in the shop worked. But whatever helped him blow off steam, you supposed.

————

Today was a good day.

Eddie liked Fridays. Most people working weekdays did, but when he came inside early from his morning cigarette, and you hadn’t finished sweeping the shop, he made a point to idle around the orange car at the center, seeking your attention and offering an apology. Not a spoken apology, mind you. But it was rare he initiated eye contact, and when he did it with the purpose of showing deference in his softened features, you understood.

You forgave him with a gentle lift at the corner of your lips for an incident yesterday afternoon, wherein he grunted at you to leave him alone when you were telling him about one of the plays you and Bobbie acted in. Sometimes you required your own reminder of when you were being annoying, and gave him an apologetic smile for bothering him. He nodded. All was right with the world. All was forgiven and now he could get to work.

He wiped his hands down the sides of his coveralls, and leaned his upper half through the open car window to reach the latch for the hood.

The perfect opportunity to mess with him presented itself in all its glory. But first, you couldn’t resist taking a long.. long look at his backside, head tilted, mouth more than a little hung open.

“Huh?” He nearly banged his head on the roof, rounding on you with the sharpest glare in the Midwest.

Under the guise of perfect innocence, you kept brushing the broom over his work boots and toward the dust pan. “Sorry, sir, just doin’ my job. Gotta clean up the filth.”

“An actress and a comedian, huh?” he posed, allowing his smirk to foster as he gripped the edge of the door. “Gonna tell me you were a clown, next?”

“Actually..” You were interrupted by Carl coming in, followed by the near-retired Kevin who worked two days a week.

You greeted them loud and proud, overdoing it in the joy department at the ripe morning hour. Asking about Carl’s wife, and Kevin’s dog; really laying it on thick for the purpose of sending a message to the looming ghoul behind you: I’m annoying you on purpose now.

Still, as you entered the lobby, you caught sight of the sneaky grin on his face before he turned his back to you. A tight-lipped thing he was clearly trying to rid himself of while pulling his hair back into a low bun, and taking the time to tie up a bandana to keep everything out of his face, thus losing his security blanket from the world perceiving he wasn’t in a permanent bad mood.

And of course, Eddie kept up his act through lunch. Stomping through the lobby in that way people did when they were so very obviously trying to appear aloof, and coming across as anything but. Eyes staring straight ahead, but too wide and too aware to not be soliciting a reaction from their periphery. Chest out, muscles flexed. Posture the very opposite of casual, causing them to walk in a stilted manner like a robot.

And his charade continued when he came back from the break room, rounding the corner with softer steps. Slower. Hanging onto the precious milliseconds where your back was to him, and he could absorb your image freely without being noticed. Then, he lifted his chin and returned to his project, pretending you weren’t there.

Yep, so painfully obvious when he forgot reflections existed and you were surrounded by glass.

~~~

Fridays were the days he anticipated most. Work was grueling, and he had many things to finish before the break for the weekend, but he didn’t mind staying late. He preferred it.

Fridays meant he could rely on someone else handling the stressors at home, and he was free to earn his late hours at the garage, indulging in his loud music, and unwinding the constant state of tension lurking beneath the surface. It was the only way he knew how to cope. To stay sane.

Yeah, he loved Fridays. Until a surprise came running at him in her tiny pink shoes.

Eddie screwed his eyes shut and exhaled a long, hard breath through his nose.

“Sorry,” came Wayne’s earnest apology as his nephew wilted; shoulders sagging, head hung. Tapping the wrench he was holding on his thigh. Trying his best to keep it together. “Don’t mean to drop ‘er off on you, but work called me in, so I came here after picking her up.”

Turning away from the engine he was installing, Eddie assumed his authoritative voice, but it came out as a weary sigh. “Adrienne, you know the rules,” he warned lowly, “No running in the shop.” After a beat, he corrected himself. “I mean, no being in the shop at all!”

She giggled as she skipped away from him, sloppy pigtails bouncing with mirth, plastic glittery shoes slapping the concrete floor where a myriad of items she could trip on laid.

“Adrie!” He called out, but she was too busy opposing him to pay attention.

Lucky for her, a certain receptionist caught her by the shoulders before she crashed into a rogue tire.

“Whoa there, little Miss!”

You looked to Eddie for further instruction on what to do with the girl currently laughing up a storm at your feet, but he was frozen. A bit paler, and wringing the back of his neck. Unable to articulate any of the broken consonants on his tongue as he stared at you. You switched your gaze to the older man beside him, but he was equally confused as to why Eddie was having trouble speaking.

Addressing anyone who would like to volunteer an answer, you asked, “And who’s this?”

“This.. This i-is my daughter. She, I, Goddamnit–I’m sorry, can you take her inside? I swear she’ll be quiet. Right, Adrie?”

Seeing the pure desperation settle around his eyes, you assimilated into the role of babysitter, wanting to alleviate his anxiety despite the sudden surge of your own. You held your hand out for her to take, and she did so without a second thought, grasping onto you with her little fingers and standing up, being the one to lead you to your desk.

As the door closed behind you, you overheard the older man clear his throat under the strain of bad news. “The water heater is broken again, and I couldn’t– ..Before I had to leave.”

Their private conversation was sealed behind the glass. You didn’t care to eavesdrop. It was too heartbreaking watching Eddie frantically catch his fingers on his bandana before removing it so he could tangle his curls into his fist, tugging them over his face as he groaned in a fruitless effort to hide himself from the world.

But on the subject of his brunette waves..

His daughter had the same curl pattern. Almost the same cut, too. Clearly Eddie was the acting barber of the family. Something you’d find adorable if it wasn’t for the pang of rejection in your stomach.

Daughter. Family.

The words repeated themselves in your head as your eyes wandered to the black tray beside the tool cabinet. He wore several large rings. Lots of jewelry, in fact, but you couldn’t remember if any of them were a wedding band, and the embarrassment of developing a crush on a married man for weeks without taking two seconds to cross reference his left hand burned your cheeks hot.

“Hi,” his daughter said cutely, swaying from foot to foot while holding two of your fingers.

You crouched to her level. “Wanna draw while we wait?” She nodded, sucking on the tip of her thumb.

Steadying your spinny office chair while she climbed into it, you made sure she was comfortable before bringing out the black stool from Mr. Moore’s office, and sitting next to her. You opened your backpack, flipped to a clean sheet in your sketchpad, and presented it to her along with your colored pencils.

“Hmm, what should we draw?”

Adrie snatched the bubblegum pink color, and began her masterpiece. “Mrs. Teresa read us a book about a mouse.”

Thank God she said it was a mouse, because you didn’t want to be the one to guess what the two oblong circles on the page were.

Adorably, she filled you in on the parts of the story she remembered, and added a triangle of yellow cheese under the mouse, then waited for you to prompt another thing to draw. You followed the nocturnal theme and asked for an owl. She hesitated on what colors to choose, and you helped her pick out the shades of brown and tan.

“How old are you?” you asked while she inundated her bird with too many feathers.

“Four-and-a-half,” she said proudly. “How old are you?”

You raised your brows. “Certainly not four-and-a-half.”

At some point, your arm had wrapped itself around her. Maybe to help shift her closer to the desk. Maybe to collect her in a pseudo-hug when she completed her art. Maybe to let Eddie know everything was okay when he craned his neck to check on you while conversing with the man outside, and you put on your best face, grinning at the story his daughter reenacted about a cartoon she watched that morning at preschool.

“What next? What next?”

“Let’s see.. Can you draw me a bat?”

She was more sure of herself, grabbing the black pencil and outlining an entire colony of bats mid-flight with more attention to detail. “My daddy has bats.”

“He has bats?” you questioned, sweeping loose hair out of her face.

She pointed to her elbow.

Thinking on it for a moment, you perked up. “Oh! He has tattoos?” She recognized the word, nodding vigorously. “Interesting, interesting.”

She’d hardly begun to fill in their wings when Eddie opened the door, and held up the comically small backpack slung on his arm, signaling it was time to leave.

You helped her down from the chair, and she excused herself to the bathroom, which only contributed to the awkward silence when she disappeared down the hall and Eddie was forced to wait at your desk.

It didn’t have to be analyzed, nor stated. The reality.

He had an entire life outside of work.

Duh. Of course he did, but still. It was one he never shared with you. Not like you earned the privilege to know, or to be included in anything he didn’t want to divulge, but with how private he was, it came as a surprise.

Invoking the thousands of dollars you spent on acting classes, you moved on, and kept your tone light, “The butterfly backpack suits you. Not sure about the color, though. Bright pink clashes with your navy blue outfit.”

Tough crowd.

His sulky demeanor permeated in his dull gaze trained on his stained sleeves. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Dumping her on you like that. Normally my uncle has the day off work and can take care of her, but he’s gotta go in because someone called out sick, so, yeah..”

If it were at all appropriate, you would reach across the countertop to soothe him from picking at his torn cuticles. But it wasn’t appropriate. So you didn’t.

You locked your hands behind your head and leaned back in your chair. “Funnily enough, I worked a brief stint as a clown for children’s birthday parties, so I’m actually quite comfortable entertaining them.”

“I’m shocked,” he said, void of shock. Finding the strength to lift his eyes from the animals she drew on your sketchpad to the encouraging curve of your lips, he tried to match your grin, but it fell flat. “At least you can go home on time today.”

You sucked in a breath for a quick retort, but Adrie interrupted you in her tiny voice, “Daddy! I can’t reach the sink!” And maybe that was for the best before you humiliated yourself more.

Because, the truth of the matter was, you always had the ability to go home on time. It was only because Eddie stayed behind that you made excuses to sit at your desk past your scheduled hours, prattling off some nonsense about memorizing the catalog.

“C’mon,” he said to his daughter, supporting her on his hip. “Let’s get going.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but it wasn’t exactly patient, either. The creeping exhaustion he kept under wraps was breaking through. Stress fractures in the mask he wore around others. The sanity he gripped for dear life for the sake of Adrie.

He caught the empathetic pinch between your brows, and used the last of his energy to turn so his daughter could see you. “Say ‘bye,’ and ‘thank you’ for playing, Adrie.”

She waved with the same enthusiasm as a golden retriever wagging their tail. “Bye! Thank you!”

“Bye, Adrie,” you laughed. “Bye, Eddie.”

Like usual, he didn’t respond. Today that was okay.

————

Eddie was on the verge. He was trembling, failing to loosen a bolt on the water heater to investigate why it broke–again–when his hair was yanked–again–and his knuckles scraped a bent piece of metal–again.

He was kneeling on his kitchen floor, craving nothing more than a shower to wash away the work week until his skin burned, but he was not afforded the simple luxury.

No relaxation. Not for him. No one to call on when Wayne was gone. This was his life to fix. On his own.

After repairing cars all day, he was exhausted. Touched out. But Adrie needed something from him, something he couldn’t understand with his tired mind. All he wanted was a break. All he needed was a break from her using his coveralls to scale his body. All he sought was the energy to deal with her pulling his hair.

But he was not spared the fortune.

“Adrie, please,” he resorted to begging. And when she didn’t stop, he withdrew his arms from the closet, and pried her hands off his hair, peeling her away and setting her on the floor.

She made to grab him again, but he used his waning strength to squeeze her arms to her sides, giving her his full attention she fought for.

“Can I get you a snack? Or put something on the TV? Do you want a nap?” He listed off anything, shaking and desperate.

“I wanna play with Daddy.”

Guilt amplified the shame.

He was a shit dad. He knew. He did his best and it was never good enough.

“I know you do,” the words fluctuated in the wake of water stinging his eyes. “I know you do, but Daddy needs to fix this. I can make you a snack and you can eat it in the living room. How ‘bout that?” Under normal circumstances, that wasn’t allowed. She had a penchant for dropping sticky food on the carpet–which was just another thing he’d have to get around to cleaning–but he was willing to bend the rules for the promise of a shower.

Adrienne thought about his offer for a long while, and settled on his deal.

And yet, it was hours.. hours until he was able to sit down.

The water heater required more service than he initially thought, and his daughter wasn’t entertained by herself for very long. She came to him in intervals of minutes, climbing up his back and hanging from his neck. He stopped caring. He didn’t have it within him. He made sure she was safe, and that was it.

He fed her a dreadful dinner, and she was so happy for her overcooked noodles in pasta sauce. He saved the leftovers. Put them in the nearly-empty fridge and took out two beers for himself, cracking the tops before sinking into the couch.

Adrienne stood between his legs while he wrapped her in her favorite blanket, and placed her in his lap. The top half of his coveralls were tied by the sleeves around his waist. No matter how dirty he was, this was how they ended the night. Him staring blankly at the TV, and her cheek on his chest, ear pressed to his white tank top, listening to his heartbeat. Curling her fists into her tattered quilt in response to him nuzzling the top of her head, and resting there in a content hum. Closing his eyes. Turning off his brain. Tipping back swigs of beer until he felt better, and giving her kisses until she giggled and squirmed.

The kisses were as much for her as they were for him, giving and receiving the only affection in his life. Apologizing for earlier when he couldn’t stand to be touched.

Her hug was small, yet powerful. Clumsy, but what he needed. Another person to gather in his arms and have their weight fall asleep on his chest.

He collected Adrie, and gave her a few more doting kisses while carrying her to bed.

“Stay, Daddy.”

Sometimes he did, just to have a real bed to sleep in, but with how long it took to fix the water heater, there was only enough hot water to bathe her. He’d have to wait until the morning.

“Not tonight, Daddy’s still dirty from work.”

It hurt to walk away. It hurt more to sleep on the lumpy couch. Hurt worse when Wayne came home to crash on the roll out bed, and the sun funneled through the windows, and the day started all over again.

Hurt the most when Eddie thought about the surprised look on your face when you learned he had a daughter.

Hurt the least when he imagined a world in which you wouldn’t care, and still flirted with him come Monday morning, because fuck, it was the only thing he looked forward to after Adrie’s meltdowns on the way to school.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #the yes policy

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mangocheesecakes · 2 months

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the scammer @/rescueplease has now been deleted, but since a lot of people are still reblogging my posts about it, i'm changing my pinned post to a list of currently active scam accounts

scammers with the same m.o., sometimes similar profile pics and linktrees/paypal addresses:

> numberonegoateeeagle (paypal name 'Jeff Owino') new

> nour-samr (paypal name 'Nour Samar') >> nour-samr0 new/remake

scammer pretending to be a sick Black person, using the paypal name, 'Alafred Opondo'

> enchantingqueencreator

the 'insulin scammer''s latest blog (at least i think it's their latest blog:

> fancycoffeepeanut

empty blogs who are mass-reblogging the scam posts and are likely just the scammers sock puppet accounts used to pad the notes of their posts, pls block them too:

> chopra-79

> futuristicphilosopherartisan new

deleted/deactivated/changed url:

maina-3

immariaanszz >> iammarinassaa >> iammarinassaass

jovialsuitdonutai (paypal name 'jeff owino')

khalilhan (paypal name 'samuel obiya') >> khaliilhan

marylinfwaznassar (paypal name 'maryline lucy')

stickytreephilosopher (paypal name 'jeff owino')

perfectlyminiatureface (paypal name 'jeff owino')

optimisticalpacalady (paypal 'jeff owino')

omarkhalini (paypal 'fred odhiambo')

marylinefwaznassar (paypal 'maryline lucy')

khalilhani (paypal 'samuel obiya')

weepingpersondestiny (paypal 'jeff owino')

as always, please block and report these blogs, and more importantly, warn your friends, mutuals, and followers if you see them reblogging their scam posts. if you see a donation post/blog that you believe may be a scam, please do look their url up first on the tumblr search bar to see if someone has already called them out. i will try to update this post with the scammers' new accounts/url as we discover them. please also go to @kyra45's blog, as they are faster and more thorough in updating about newly discovered scams.

some red flags to look out for before sharing donation posts/donating:

new blog, or a couple years old but has only a few random, sporadic posts

backdated posts

spamming asks to a lot of other users, even the ones they don't know or have just followed, and even when the user has made it clear they don't want to receive requests to boost dono posts

is asking you to answer their asks privately, or is sending you a message directly

is straight up asking you for money, and usually for impossibly large amounts

do not put their paypal/money transfer links on their post itself, usually claiming it's to protect their 'privacy'

is using Zelle for their money transfer account, especially if the person is claiming to be in Palestine

please don't be so quick to entertain donation requests and to give away your money, especially if the user ticks a lot of these boxes. if you are familiar with the place they say they are from or the language they are supposed to speak, try conversing with them for a bit to see if their claims would hold. you can also browse my 'donation scam' tag or kyra45's blog to compare if the user has any similarities with past scammers that we've discovered.

that's it po. let's all try our best to look out for each other and make sure that our resources are going to the actual people in need, especially in the case of Palestinians asking for help. the last thing they need right now is for shitty lowlifes to use their suffering to make a profit.

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deathbyathousandspiders · 10 months

Note

peter and reader literally js making out and being adorable !

i kinda got carried away w this one so it’s a little bit ✨spicier✨ than intended-

!!! 18+ (MDI) !!!

content warnings — a really steamy make–out with Peter, sexual content, teasing.

✨masterlist✨.

1.2k.

The emptiness of Peter’s apartment carried his voice through the echoes, making the space feel that much bigger as you sunk into his couch. His Aunt May had gone out with some friends for the evening, making some suggesting jokes and comments that made you and Peter blush, even long after she’d left.

All the lights were off in the apartment, excluding the lamp behind Peter’s closed bedroom door, and the colorful glow of the television seated in front of you. You and your boyfriend were cuddled on his couch, entranced by George Lucas’s galactic storytelling. Your head had previously been resting on his shoulder, but due to Peter’s current geeky–tangent, you sat up to listen to him better.

“He used to make lightsaber sounds when they were practicing, and he’d have no idea.” Peter was quite expressive when he explained little Star–Wars facts to you. There was something about the way his eyes lit up, and he’d use his arms to guide the sentence.

You bit the inside of your cheek, hiding your amusement as best as possible whilst you listened. Your entire focus was set to him, but the passion he had for these movies never ceased to entertain you. The two of you had been dating for roughly five months, and from the little mental list you were creating of your favorite Peter things, these conversations were one of your top picks.

Peter’s eyes kept flickering back and forth from you to the movie screen, glowing happily as he went on with his vent about Revenge of the Sith, more importantly, Ewan McGregor. “He had been so used to making the effects when he was younger, that when they’d film their battle scenes, Ewan made the sound effects out of habit.”

As much as you had been paying attention to his words, your thread of thought was more occupied with the enthusiasm laced in his voice. The timid dimples that threatened to say hello in the midst of his smile, the ecstatic gesture of his hands, and the glistening tint of excitement that strung within your eye contact. You’d been so entranced by his little geek–out, you almost forgot to respond.

Your grin grew a little, despite every Star–Wars related response fleeting from your brain. You let the first thought you could muster slip through your lips. “You’re adorable.” You probably could’ve given a more thorough and engaged response, but seeing the red that flooded Peter’s expression made it all the more worth it.

Peter looked at you for a moment, completely flustered. He was off guard at the fact that ‘you’re adorable’ was your only response to his Star–Wars tangent. His lips parted a few times to speak, but his words failed every time. “Shut up..”

Carefully, you slid yourself closer to him beneath your shared throw blanket, looking up at him. Your head shook in response as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “No.” You replied between kisses, placing a few more across his face. “I need to tell you how sweet and adorable you are...” Sooner than later, your lips found their way to his, connecting in such a sickly sweet way.

The kiss you shared seemed to ease the nerves that accompanied the blush on his face. You could feel the warmth of his fingers trace your upper thighs, pulling one across his legs so you could straddle his lap. You loved the feeling of your lips piecing together; the upper, then the lower, and the way your bodies fit together just as perfectly. It was intoxicating.

“I need to tell you how sweet and adorable you are..” Peter spoke, breathless between your kisses. His voice hummed lower than before, rasping in the back of his throat. Even though he’d just been particularly focused on the movie, his mind now went to other places. Just the thought of your intimacy, mixed with the way his hands kneaded the plush of your hips, sent a thrilling sensation straight down to your lower stomach.

Eyes shut, you were the one to first part from the kiss. “But we’re talking about you, Peter.” You lulled, feeling the way his lips chased after yours to stall your argument. You tucked your head away from his, your left thumb pressing itself on his lips as a barrier. You took the opportunity to cradle his face with your right hand in the process.

Your eyes slowly opened to meet Peter’s, fighting a smirk at how desperately he looked at you. You stared at him through your lashes, keeping your face irresistibly close to his. “I’m not going to kiss you until you take the compliment..” You teased, speaking barely above a whisper. You trusted him enough to remove your thumb, not even a little surprised by how eager he was to kiss you again.

It was easy to dodge him, and delectable to feel the light brushing of lips on yours; the urgency and impatience in his breath fanned against your parted lips, driving you just about as crazy as it drove him. The power you held was ravishing. Tension was quick to build between the two of you, binding both of you that much closer together. It took every bone in your body to fight the urge and cave to his need for you. His head craned in closer, doing everything he could to press his lonesome lips back to yours.

Peter tried to find a loophole. His hands grasping at your ass, his lips trailed and teased at your jawline when you’d dodge him. He found it infuriating, but also just as enjoyable. “Fine...” He huffed, smirking lightly. “Thank you.” Peter met your lips hungrily when you kissed him again, as though he’d been deprived of your embrace for years.

The kiss was much rougher than before, fueling the growing need for friction between your thighs. You rocked your hips against his, pressing the ache in your core to his growing erection. A heavy breath caught in your throat, lips parting further at the pressure. It was easy to let the world around you melt away, getting lost in Peter’s touch as his fingers tugged on your hair, and traveled under the thin fabric of your shirt.

Just like that, the jingle of May’s keys fumbling at the door tied you back to the crisp presence of reality. You flew off your boyfriend’s lap, seating yourself beside him like you had been moments prior. Swift movements brought a pillow to hide Peter’s arousal, and just like that, it looked like you two were merely watching a movie together. Well, minus the matching red hues on your cheeks.

May hummed a tune quietly to herself, mirroring the smile you sent her as she walked into the dark apartment. “The girls and I are heading to Jenny’s for the night, but I wanted to grab my Hennessy.” She chimed, strutting into the kitchen like she’d be out in a jiffy. Her attention got caught on the television for a moment, her smiling growing. “Oh! Pete, you found it!” May glanced at you, “Did he tell you that he spent all afternoon looking for his collectors DVD? He was really looking forward to showing it to you.”

You watched the way Peter’s head hit the back of the couch, pressing his palms into his face to try and mask his embarrassment. “May, stop!” He whined, sustaining out the words to emphasize just how flustered he got. His words were muffled through his hands, but you still couldn’t help but find it adorable. He was just too cute. You just had to let the giggles slip through your lips.

Yep, no doubt about it; Peter’s geeky Star–Wars obsession was definitely one of your favorite things about him. That, and your steamy make–out sessions.

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moonsaver · 23 days

Text

I cant stop thinking about being a possible singer from the Iris Family?? Their family is usually responsible for the major "talent" productions that practically are responsible for the entertainment... also Siobhan as hints to what the Iris family would be like.

You were a singer.

Barely a singer, to be fair.

It was for the sake of your little compartment of a family. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and you scraped out every last bit of your talents. The one which seems to be lasting the longest, seems to be singing.

You did what you had to. You sang until your throat was raw and hurt, practiced day and night until your ears were sick of your own voice, passed through every elimination tests that were conducted – all so you could have a stabilized, bolted place in the Iris Family, if it meant you and your parents and siblings weren't kicked out.

And, you weren't the best. And certainly not as good as Robin – the gem of the Oak Family. It was ironic, but it didn't matter. Not to you. As long as it kept your family secure, you endured. The comparisons, the hushed, barely pleased audience as they only took your performance as stalling time for the "real stars" of the show, the side-glances all of your other relatives threw your way. It was fine. You told yourself so. It was fine as long as you, your parents and your siblings were secured.

Risks weren't an option for you. Not when you had too much to lose.

Sunday has learned to appreciate frequency over output.

Times where schedules had to be rearranged last minute, performances strained and announcements elongated to squeeze out any extra amount of coverage for a missing show, routine dismantled and put together in real time as the neverending perfect show went on.

In all of those times, Sunday kept a usual eye on everyone. Their names, roles, status, popularity, preferences. And most importantly – their reliability.

You were an average performer. But your reliability was notable to Sunday. Oftentimes he found himself looking for you first and foremost for an improvised concert, whenever things even threatened to go awry. He knew perhaps you obliged out of self-interest or a simple fear of upsetting The Head of the Oak Family, but you were reliable in your own way. A simple glance your way and a nod was enough to signal you for advance preparation for improvisation, repeated song lyrics at the tip of your tongue.

If you were lucky, sometimes Sunday would repay you by scheduling you for an opening performance for a small-time event, or letting you in on the recent trends, the general public opinion towards your show, or even drop some personal hints for you to improve.

That was all you were. A reliable stand-in for when there were a disarray of clarity, disagreements upon disagreements, confusion stagnating the scheduling.

Until, you became so much more in a simple moment of disillusion.

A break is in order, Sunday believes. He clicks his pen continuously, the sound echoing in the vast space of the room, bouncing off of the sterile, empty walls.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

5 times.

Click.

6 times.

Sunday's restless mind comes to a small halt when he inhales sharply, constraining his fingers. His shaking hand gently places the pen onto the flat, neatly organized desk, back where it belongs. He rests his chin on his hands. Thinking and listing everything on his agenda for the day.

A tandem of knocks resound from the smooth wooden surface of the door.

"Mr. Sunday?"

Ah. It's you.

He supposes his asisstants and servants don't realize he's noticed the recent pattern as of late. Whenever something changes in the schedule that could possibly threaten to dampen his mood or displease him, they send you in as some sort of collateral. He's gotten used to your presence enough to not mind it.

"Come in."

Short, quick clicks of your heels accompany the entering of your figure into the room. Your front is warmly illuminated by the yellow lighting of the room.

"Changes have been decided within the schedule again."

"As expected."

He gets up from the leather chair with a subtle creak, the steps of his shoes muffled by the carpet. He walks around his table, fingers trailing across the ridges of the masterfully crafted desk.

"Can I ask a favor of you, as always?"

"Of course."

His wings slightly flutter, pleased at the response. You can tell, despite his back facing you.

His fingers trail and come to a slow halt at the edge of the desk. His index finger taps on the surface.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

5 times.

Ah, you think. He's anxious.

"Mr. Sunday?"

"Hm?"

His finger stops, you note.

"I've heard guests have taken more to berry-flavored items as of late."

He chuckles a bit, softly.

"There's an uprising trend. Berry-flavored items have been on the rise, and as such, food follows."

Sunday half theorizes it could be due to the recent intreview Robin had. Strawberry flavored lipgloss was something she mentioned in particular.

"Ah. I see. So I suppose those colors may also influence the recent fashion trends?"

Sunday hums, in thought.

The moment is interrupted by an abrupt knock at the door.

"Mr. Sunday, there's a few tasks that need your approval to go ahead."

The male asisstant's voice resounds confidently through the previously quiet room. Sunday looks over at you and nods. You turn to take your leave. You can only hope it was enough of a reprieve for him.

"It seems fashion trends are inspired, aswell."

Sunday mentions, standing beside you. His eyes are watchful, analyzing the current performance from behind the curtains.

"I see."

You respond. Making conversation was not your strongsuit. Sunday smiles slightly at your awkwardness.

He continued the conversation after a few moments, talking about color palettes, scents, and general observable trends. Your usual,basic gowns and dresses will now see a noticeable change, due to Sunday's suggestions.

He admits, even at times, he looks forward to them. Sometimes, as foolish as it sounds, he slips in a mix of his own personal opinion, thinly disguised as the "general preference", which manages to then take presidence over your usual pick of gowns. He won't admit it, but he secretly does enjoy sometimes "picking out" your outfits. It's never harmed anyone in the long run, and Sunday's personal theories of whichever color would look good on you are confirmed.

"May I ask.. what this is..?"

The artificial, blue light of the Dreamscape softly highlights Sunday's face, as he stands before you with a pleased look. The same, usual smile on his face.

"I believe incorporating a few gold accents into your palette may help."

You look at the black, velvet bag; the ends of it scrunched into a closure. Your fingers gently pry it open and meddle around a bit, before they pull out a single, gold earring. It glimmers wonderfully under the soft, blue light. There's a flower at the very top with an encrusted diamond, from which a long, elegant thread of gold dangles, ending into a small golden stalk.

You curiously examine it, slightly dangling it to inspect the weight and movement of the accessory.

Sunday walks toward you with a few, short strides, and holds out his hand.

You look at his open, gloved palm, then him.

You inhale deeply, before taking off your current earrings and placing them onto his hand, and gently replacing their former stations with the new earrings. Sunday places your previous earrings into the velvet bag, and glances at your ears, then you.

"Consider it a.. company gift."

How fanciful.

"Thank you for your generosity."

Sunday's eyes linger on your ears, then trail down to the junction of your jaw. His eyes close as his smiles widens slightly.

To be fair, he wanted more.

‐

Sunday has been getting closer to you as of late.

Because you wouldn't imagine ever being this close in proximity to Robin of all people.

Her lips are glossy with a strawberry tint, and her eyes are a beautiful lake green, you note. You also take note of the fact she's much more warmer and approachable than she is appeared to be on digital surfaces.

Both of you engage in polite conversation, her taking the lead, noticing your awkwardness. She's sweet, and understanding. She discusses general things regarding singing and songwriting. You take her for a very warm individual. It's no wonder she's a well-liked popstar. Talent alone can take you so far.

What you also wouldn't imagine is her managing to entangle you within her daily affairs. She leads you to private rooms, asks for advice on outfits, practice, and all sorts of things, despite the contrast of your styles almost bizzare, you oblige anyway.

And it's almost brazenly obvious she's trying to get you and Sunday to spend more time alone outside of work.

It's of no coincidence that she suddenly has to leave and take care of a few things or shuffle around a bit outside whenever Sunday manages to pop in and check up on you two. It wouldn't have been so uncomfortable if for the fact, Sunday's eyes are always lingering on your ears.

Once, he'd taken note that you'd been wearing them more often to your performances and shows. It can't be helped – you've gained more popularity and as a result, keener eyes inspect your choice of practically everything. Including your earrings. Your fans aren't hesitant to point out how exquisite and specific the craftsmanship of your earrings are, and it's not long before your fans have understood it was gifted to you. By who, became the newest sensation regarding you. Petty rumors were incriminating, but you suppose if it brought you more fans, it was enough.

Sunday chuckles softly when you briefly touch on the subject.

It wasn't long before he'd gotten you another pair as a result.

You only worry about paying him back, more and more.

‐

There are a plethora of thorns on Sunday's side. Many, of which the public, and many members of the Oak Family aren't privy to.

One of them was currently busy darkening his doorstep;

The IPC.

Or rather specifically – Aventurine.

What he wasn't expecting, was for you to be an exclusive invitee to his mischief.

You were rather in an unlucky spot. You had always considered your luck to be rusty, having struggled so much just for average recognition and a barely tangible career that's keeping your family afloat.

On top of that, you were being heavily persuaded by Aventurine, who was persistent in his offer to you. His desperation was more than obvious, like a nervous dog waiting for the bone toss, holding you in place with a firm grip on your arm. It didn't help that he'd forced his way into your hotel room aswell.

And Sunday just witnessed the pinnacle of this forsaken deal.

...

"Aventurine."

"Mr. Sunday."

After a beat of silence, you pathetically try to step in,

"This–"

"I see you've taken to familiarizing with my employees."

Sunday's smile remains well plastered on his face. Aventurine only smiles back.

"I was actually in the middle of striking a deal. There's always opportunities in the best of places, right?" Aventurine side-eyes you. You shrink back a bit.

"My employees are unfortunately off-limits to contracts from unauthorized branches. I look for your understanding in this.. complicated form of approach."

You watch Aventurine's smile strain. Sunday continues.

"Perhaps, if you are in need of a singer, I may direct you to an appropriate employee from the Iris Family to search for someone."

"That won't be necessary. I wasn't looking for a singer. You don't think that's all they're talented at, do you?"

Sunday's eyes slightly sharpen at him. Aventurine's smile becomes more genuine.

"Oh, you've positively ruined the mood. I guess it's just not my lucky day, and it looks like I'm not getting a deal with you anytime soon."

Aventurine's eyes hone in on you. You stand stiffly, your arm tense from the uncertainty your body feels physically.

His grip loosens, languidly. You'd think he was doing it slowly on purpose if not to tick off Sunday more.

"I'll take my leave, then."

Aventurine breezes past Sunday, rounding the corner of the door. He casts one last glance to you as the turns.

His footsteps echo down the hallway. As soon as they fade, Sunday's smile drops slightly.

"Are you perhaps.. unhappy with your current circumstances?"

‐

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megistusdiary · 13 days

Note

arlecchino has to be a FREAK in bed. i just know she has the most batshit crazy kinks ever, and is so rough in bed that the bed basically collapses in on itself

father on the streets, freak in the sheets

(im so mad because my entire draft literally vanished the first time when i hit post, but i am dedicated to arle nation)

100% no doubt, she's a whole freak

arlecchino kink discussion below

(nsfw utc)

i think some of arlecchino's top kinks would be

degradation, spanking, choking, biting, marking, breeding, petplay, temperature play, bondage, overstimulation, edging, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dacryphilia

if i forgot anything, lmk arle nation

she fucks you like it's the last thing she'll ever do. her clawed hands dig into your hips, leaving bruises and indentations in their wake. she likes the way they look on you, but more importantly, how they're hers. how she's left them on your body for the both of you to admire.

she loves keeping a collar and leash around your pretty little throat. she tightens her hold on your leash, cutting off your air supply, yanking your head back to see the pretty little tears forming in your eyes.

sometimes, she likes to keep you in her office as live entertainment. you're all tied up on her velvet couch, a vibe stuffed up your pussy, squirming around and trying not to make any noise, lest you disrupt her important work.

she is also very much into spanking. she loves smacking your ass and thighs, either with her hand or a paddle. the way your hips jump gets her hot and bothered. but she really loves slapping your pussy. she likes the way you squirm and whine for her. how your body shakes when her palm lands firmly on your cute little clit ♡

oh, and yes, biting is one of her favorites. she's always sinking her teeth into your neck, shoulders, thighs, really anywhere she can bite you, she will. and if you try to bite her as revenge, make sure you only do it when she's given you permission. otherwise, your revenge hickies will result in you looking like you had sex with a vampire on every visible part of your body.

whew!!!

#genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #fem reader #genshin wlw #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino #arlecchino smut #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#💐─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 #🪷─𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 `♡´

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wosowritinnnggs11 · 13 days

Text

SMUT! 18+ MDNI

Ona x Reader ... Alexia x Reader

WARNING: Cheating, lying, lots of unfaithfulness, alcohol consumption, ALL PURELY FICTIONAL!, potentially shitty google translated spanish

Summary: Your relationship with Ona gets messy when you see her team-mate and more importantly your ex for the first time in 2 years. With no closure, pent-up frustration and a night of stolen glances, is your toxic relationship with Barca's captain really all in the past?

Tags: Exes, fingering, semi-public, mirror sex, bathroom sex, Top!Alexia x Bottom!Reader, possessiveness, begging, light degradation

You stared, dazed, at your disheveled reflection in the mirror. Cheeks still flushed, fucked out hair, puffed up lips and lustful eyes that gave it all away. With everything that had just transpired within these bathroom walls, betrayal and infidelity might as well be plastered on your forehead and oh my god if you were to walk out like this-

Fuck! Your legs were on the brink of giving out, knees trembling and doing little to support your current state. You hissed silently under your breath, gnawing at your bottom lip, your eyes closing as you silently rode the aftershocks of intoxicating pleasure that had you clawing at the sink minutes earlier. You stared at yourself again, her lingering touch still tormenting your being.

Ona would know. Everyone would know. This would be the death of you as you knew it... and that cocky little bitch would revel in it. Despite knowing damn well that she caused this, conquering you entirely and shamelessly in a tiny ass public restroom. She'd do more than relish in the idea of how easily your body complied and eagerly answered her touch. In fact. She wouldn't let you hear the end of it.

A smile crept on your lips at the thought and you had half a mind to hit your head against the sink for it.

"Fucking Putellas..." the words nearly a chuckle from your mouth.

You tried your best to compose yourself, letting the water run from the faucet as you focused on the cold sensation trickling down your hands. Just breathe. You could do this. You'd touch up your make up, comb out your hair, fix up this dress and don on your underwe-...Where the fuck...??? You tore yourself away from the sink, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The floor? No. The sink? No. Behind the door? No. The sudden realization sent your searches to a halt, launching at your bag and rummaging through it to find your phone.

Y/N: [ARE U SERIOUS!!??] - sent Do Not Answer- A. Putellas.: [Quien es este?] Y/N: [Alexia- I am not kidding. Bring them back! NOW!!] - sent

The text bubbles appeared, then ... nothing. She was mocking you.

Y/N: [NOW!!] Y/N: [please!] Do Not Answer- A. Putellas.: [Me encanta cuando suplicas ;)]

"No." Turning off your phone, you turned back to confront yourself in the mirror. "Do not go there. Do not give in."

"Act unaffected. That's all you have to do." you demanded, gaze fixated on your now slightly more presentable appearance. And as your subconscious triggered a replay of what had just happened, you bit down on your tongue hard enough to not let out a moan from the mere thought.

*** hours earlier...

The venue was littered with an array of Barcelona girls drowning in red and blue lighting as obnoxiously loud music and decor filtered into all areas of the room. Bodies pressed up against bodies, and even with drink in hand, you were barely drunk enough to find any of this remotely exciting. Entertaining that thought, you took another drawn out sip of your 3rd? 4th? Glass of champagne before tuning back into reality. No, the only thing keeping you sane was her. The way her smile reached to her eyes and the warmth of her giggle as she chatted with her teammates, fingers entwined in your own. You’d be lying if you said she wasn't the only reason you had even come tonight. As Ona's girlfriend of 2 years, she had invited you as her plus one to Barcelona's night out after winning the Champions League. Usually, you would find a way to make yourself conveniently unavailable.

The reason for that awful truth now met your eyes across the room. Alexia. You took your time in dissecting her appearance, having not laid eyes on her for years. At least in person. Her outfit consisted of a soft white silk top, covered by a dark suit jacket and paired with a matching set of black formal pants that accentuated her height, the shirt exposing just enough to highlight her toned figure. One thing about Alexia was that she knew how to dress and clearly tonight was no exception.

Much like you, she was stood beside some other barca girls. You could make out some familiar faces from the years past when your presence was frequent at these kinds of things. Seemingly becoming distracted from the conversation, Alexia's gaze was trained on yours, her cool eyes lingering for a second longer than necessary. They contained a hint of something unrecognizable. She seemed...almost sorry. Guilty? Remorseful? Nostalgic? Whatever it was, your psycho-analyzations got cut short, Alexia offering nothing but a simple head nod of acknowledgement before returning to her conversation. You let your mind drift to a place you hadn’t been or rather let yourself go to in the longest time. Your relationship. Your past. Your relationship of 2 years was a while and whilst you had started dating Ona shortly after her, so much of your situation with the Barcelona captain was...unresolved. All-consuming. Honestly, that was part of the appeal but it became unsustainable. So you went no contact after the split.

Which…was now difficult that Barcelona had won. Not only was this a feat in women's soccer itself but it was also Ona's first big trophy win with her childhood club, so you knew being here and supporting her achievements meant a lot. Champagne in the opposite hand, you slipped your arm around Ona's waist, pulling her in closer as you two made conversation with her fellow defenders. Her skin was soft under your hand and though you shot a smile in her direction, her attentions were fully drawn to her teammates. Even then, you couldn't help but focus on how familiar all of this felt. How weird it was to see all these people again. The same festivities. The same alcohol. Only a new girl to draw you back to the present. Soft skin under your palm rather than a firm hand against yours. A long dress instead of a shirtless jacket. Maybe it was something in your drink that made you reminiscent, drawing your eyes across to her once more.

Her eyes were quicker, already laid upon you and you could feel as your heart raced at the gesture. Alexia's gaze was now somewhat darkened by the blaring lights in the room as she sat on a lounge, legs slightly spread apart and posture relaxed as an... extremely beautiful redhead you did not recognise sat in her lap, leaning against her chest. Shit. Reluctantly, you watched as her eyes drifted away from yours, her mouth coming closer to the redhead's ear, whispering something so abundantly hilarious, it sent the other woman's head flying back with laughter. A shiver ran down your spine at the familiar memory of those lips ghosting over your skin. In an attempt to flush away the sickly feeling in your stomach, you took another sip of champagne, ruminating in the burn as it travelled down your throat.

Jealousy? No. No this wasn't jealousy. It just kind of stinged to watch your ex so close to an attractive woman, that was all. Especially when this shit was happening directly in front of you. In fact, you were glad. Relieved even. This was just her round about way of showing you that she's moved on and, hey, at least it eased the awkward tension in the room. Even then, you watched as her eyes travelled down to where your hand met Ona, biting down on the inside of her cheek until they caught yours again. At that, she quickly dropped her gaze to the floor before taking another drawn-out sip of her drink, quick to replace the empty glass in her hand with another. You tried to return your attention to the people in front of you, brushing it off as a mere slip-up and attempting to ignore the way every nerve in your body was set alight at mere seconds of her observations.

By the end of the first hour, you caught sight of her again, leant up on the wall across the room, arms crossed over her chest and a full glass in hand, this time, with no redhead in sight. Your eyes searched the floor when you saw the other woman now talking to another Barcelona girl, getting awfully cozy. Alexia on the other hand was less than comfortable, evident in her tense shoulders and the way her tongue rested against her cheek. You laughed to yourself, recognising her obviously foul, drunk mood. Fucking classic. The second "la reina" didn't get her way, she acted exactly like a child throwing a fit. That thirst for control quite obviously made her a great captain but on the other hand a shit partner.

You tried your best to suppress the sense of smugness growing inside you , glad you were no longer the one dealing with any of it. Without realizing, you turned your head to Ona, still sat beside you. Nuzzling into the warmth of her neck, you stared up at her dotingly, ultimately relieved you were with someone who actually cared. Catching her attention, the defender turned her head towards you.

"Hey, you feeling okay? Wanna go home early?" her words were barely more than a whisper.

In response, you simply shook your head, not moving from the familiarity of her embrace. A warm grin was all she offered before placing a soft kiss on your forehead and unbeknownst to either of you, sparking a full - fledged war across the room.

As the night carried on, Alexia's lingering looks became longer. More careless, turning almost predatory. Initially you mistook the unfamiliarity in her eyes for anger but as she found you again, gaze steady, darkened and with no sign of shying away, you could not deny how painfully obvious that look was. That look was your entire history. Alexia had always released her frustration on her partners. Never abusively of course but instead through hours of endless domination. Relentlessness. Pushing you to the edge over and over until you broke. Making you beg for release. Doing anything and everything possible to get her back in that position of power. You knew it all too well. Suddenly the urge to hit yourself with a pound of bricks became increasingly apparent as you noticed how wet you were getting, the memories playing back in your mind. What the fuck was wrong with you.

Ona was right beside you. That fact in itself spoke volumes as you tried to think of the last time you had focused on anything other than Alexia this whole night, a burning shame entering your face, gladly concealed by the dim lighting. You and Alexia were long done. No, she had a girlfriend, a partner, someone. Whoever that redhead was to her. This wasn't and this couldn't be directed towards you.

And so you tried. You tried so hard to focus on anything else, digging your nails into the palm of your hands to try calm the thrumming ache growing inside your body. But her presence was fucking magnetic. You could tell the alcohol was getting to her by the way her eyes dragged down your body, a slight smirk playing at the corner of her mouth as she bit her lower lip softly. They became mixed with something deeper. A need. An almost instinctual desire. And you could tell the alcohol was getting to you by how you kept meeting her looks. And how your body responded to her scrutiny, the ache in your core increasing by the second. You hated how you had to forcibly tear your eyes away. You could tell she was enjoying this, making you flustered. Frustrated. Squirming from mere eye contact. Like a pawn underneath her stupid fucking finger as your thread of honour broke by the second.

You needed to look away and more importantly you needed this to stop. But as your inhibitions became hazier and that feeling... Those eyes on you, waiting patiently.

Don't. Don't. Don't. Please don't. No. Don't.

Against all rationale and self restraint, for a millisecond, you locked eyes over your shoulder. Tilting her head, she simply offered a flash of teeth in response before turning away from you. You could have swore the room actually slowed as she rolled her shoulders and slid the jacket down her spine to reveal her back. You analyzed her tensing muscles. The tattoos that littered her skin. Fuck. Her back her back her back her back her back her back. You could barely form a sentence let alone a thought. If you hadn't been together for so long, she may have been able to feign innocence but you knew. She did this on purpose. Your mind replayed that image, seconds turning into minutes as her muscles tensed and flexed with every small movement of her arm, her soft hair falling so perfectly along her skin. What you'd to do be underneath all of that again. Turning back around, she looked at you over her shoulder with a shit eating grin and a small wink.

No. ha. No, fuck this. You shot up from your seat, excusing yourself to the bathroom as casually as you could muster and basically sprinting to the door. Every last part of you felt like it was on fire. Anger? Guilt? Frustration? Horniness? Beats you. As you looked up, Alexia was already on her feet, practically pacing across the room. Whatever remorse was present in her eyes moments ago had burned. Fuck everyone else in that room, to her? You might as well be cornered prey. Palms on the door handle you slammed open the bathroom, turning to shut it when...

"No." you uttered. Alexia towered over you in the door frame, hands blockading you from exiting as she slowly walked in and shut the door behind you both. Locking it. That same fucking smirk still on her lips.

"Alexia. I am not playing along with whatever game you think this is." You were practically shaking from all the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"Calmate. I'm just here to wash my hands." Taken aback by the ease of her voice, you stood away as she leant over the sink, back on full show. You tried to stop yourself but as your gaze scanned over her physique, you felt another rush of heat to your core. You saw as Alexia bit down the smile threatening to rise, catching your eye in the mirror. God, she was so hot infuriating when she got cocky.

"So, Ona huh?" She questioned, still looking down into the sink basin. The sudden mention of your girlfriend's name formed a pit in your stomach which you tried your best to calm.

You scoffed slightly, attempting to mask the sweat forming along your hands. "Like you care. Seemed pretty comfortable with that redhead all up on you."

She looked up at you in the mirror reflection, eyebrow raised in challenge. "You wish you were instead?" Your breath stopped. Why did it feel so wrong to say no.

"I'm joking." She looked back down and you felt your heart drop. Why did it drop? You watched intently as she turned off the tap and shook her hands dry, placing them against the edge of the sink. You watched the way her shoulders flexed, supporting her weight, her stature built to a tee.

"You always have been a social climber though." Her words came out as a slight chuckle, an almost amused expression playing out on her face in the mirror.

"What the fuck is that meant to mean." The forcefulness of your words surprised even you.

"You know, someone who has a reputation for trying to score whoever will get you the most attention."

"I know the definition of the word Alexia. Why are you doing this? What's with the sudden attention to my personal life." You kept looking at her in the mirror in an attempts to force her gaze back to yours but she didn't budge. God, you felt pathetic standing here, just admiring her stupid muscular build.

"Just expected you to be with someone a little less...soft. Can't really see a girl like her spitting in your mouth." The corners of her lips lifted, attempting to set you off in any way possible.

"Shut up."

Noticing your riled up reaction, she pressed harder. "No, no, I get it. You always had a thing for taller girls who... oh wait."

"Alexia-"

Her voice became slightly aggressive, a mocking tone now present in her words. "Sorry, you are actually with her cause she's so sweet right? Is that why your eyes have been on me the whole night instead of her."

You grabbed her arm steadily, turning her against the counter.

"Shut the fuck up." Your words contained a hint of a smile, becoming muffled as you pulled her face down to yours, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss. You moved your lips softly against hers, feeling 2 years of tension in your body slowly melt away.

She teared away from you almost immediately, staring at you with furrowed brows. "What the fuck are you doing? I'm with someone." Her words sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, caught on how to even respond as you looked at her alarmed gaze. You were a mixture of mortified, confused and shocked at what the fuck you just pulled. More than that, you were still craving another taste of her.

"Shit. Fuck. Sorry I-"

A smug grin flashed across her face before she spoke again. "I'm kidding, I just love seeing you flustered."

At that she grabbed a fistful of your hair, causing you to let out a moan against her mouth as she pushed you roughly up against the tiled wall, deepening the kiss. Her strength was nothing if not attractive, her frame towering over you and keeping you cornered as she explored your mouth. Nothing about her was slow or careful. She threw caution to the wind, biting down on your bottom lip before forcing her tongue inside to brush against your own, making you whimper as her hand remained tight in your hair, forcing your neck back. You could taste the remainder of alcohol on her lips and it was intoxicating, her mouth savoring every part of you and leaving you breathless. She tasted so Hot. Sweet. Perfect. You dragged your hands across her broad shoulders before sliding them up to her neck, attempting to reel her in even closer. You felt her smile against your mouth at your desperation, clearly enjoying the way you so easily submitted to her. And you gladly did. You let her hold you like you were hers and hers only. You let her force her hips into yours, pinning you in place as she worked your mouth. You let her hands roam freely along your body, setting your skin on fire as she found your waist and settled against your ass, firmly gripping it in her hands. You tried to get a breath in but every attempt was only met with more intensity from Alexia, sliding her tongue against yours with a hunger that lingered along every inch of your body.

Finally pulling away to catch her breath, Alexia's eyes raced between your own and back to your lips, chest rising and falling. Tightening her grip in your hair, she angled your chin up further, allowing her to gain full access to your neck. Using her other hand to steady herself against the wall, she slowly lowered her head down, breath hot against your skin. Instead of saying anything she placed her lips against your neck, sending a wave of electricity through you as she began mixing the softness of her lips with the harsh marks she left on you, blurring the lines between pain and pleasure. If tonight was any evidence, she was extremely territorial over what was hers, making sure to sink her teeth just enough to leave a bruise, the sharp spike of pain making you softly whimper, your hand still keeping her head steady against you. She moved her hands along your waist, trailing upwards to your ribs and coming back down, soaking in the feeling of you so helpless against her. Her touch was so familiar. The perfect mix of rough and right which left you only wanting more and nothing else. No one else. That thought caused your throat to dry. You swallowed before speaking through labored breaths, Alexias lips unrelenting from your skin.

"We shouldn't be doing this... we can't." The words didn't come out of you easily, everything about her was so...excruciatingly addicting. The way she tasted. The way she knew your body like the back of her hand. The way she looked up at you then.

"Yeah?" She spoke lowly against you. You felt another smile spread across her face as she ran her hands further down your thighs, before dragging her fingertips ever so slowly up the inside of your legs. You were definitely shaking. You felt every breath and inflection on your skin as she spoke again "Tell me to stop." Your head tilted back against the wall, head spinning and lips unable to even move. "Alexia-" is all you managed to breathe out.

"Hm?", she moved up to your jaw this time, her kisses more careless and passionate as she dragged her fingertips up more. Higher. Higher. Higher- You let out a pathetically loud whimper that you could tell she was more than satisfied with, evident in the small laugh she let out. Every slight touch of her fingers left your body annoyingly sensitive, the longing in your cunt only growing. Teasingly, she stopped right before the edge of your underwear, caressing your skin and moving her head to look at you as she waited for your response. "Tell. Me. To. Stop."

"No, Don't..." Your words were more of a sigh than anything else.

She lifted an eyebrow at you, moving her fingertips back down your thigh. You didn't even need her to speak to know what it meant. She wanted you to work for it. Beg to have her fingers inside you.

"Please...fuck...Don't Stop." Your words were breathy but you didn't care anymore. You were practically dripping and you needed her fingers, mouth, fucking anything to feel release.

"Good." She smirked again before guiding her fingers over your underwear that barely kept you decent, feeling as you soaked through the fabric.

"Fuck, you are drenched. This wet over a quick make out?"

"I've been like this the whole night." You met her eyes as you said that, staring up at her shamelessly.

She let out a soft groan at your words before running her hands underneath your underwear, feeling your warmth against her fingers. She looked back up at you, watching as your breathing became shallow, eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched together, before continuing to focus on her hands. She collected the wetness from your entrance before guiding her fingers back to trace painfully slow circles over your clit, alternating her pattern frequently enough to not give you any proper stimulation. Your breath and desperation only increased.

She leant into you again, biting down against your ear lobe, eliciting another whine. Her voice was low as she spoke. "It's been so long... you might have to remind you how you like to take it." Her fingers began to gradually circle faster around your clit, pressing down with just enough pressure to make your head spin. "Was it like this?" In response you could only move your hips down against her, attempting to increase the friction by any means possible. Noticing your actions, she simply pulled her hand away, causing you to let out a soft cry.

"Or... was it like this?" She rubbed a finger through your slick folds before pushing inside, curling it against your g-spot and slowly sliding back down your walls. The simple gesture of her fingers inside you caused your eyes to roll back in your head as you once again slumped back against the wall in frustration.

"Fuck, Alexia. Just do something." As soon as the words left your mouth, you wished you had bit your tongue. Cautiously gazing up at her, her expression was what could only be described as amused though you were almost certain it was not sincere. She shook her head slightly in disbelief before putting on another shit eating grin.

"So brave..." Before you could even think to say anything she unceremoniously spun you back to the sink basin, keeping your back against her chest as her hands steadied you against it. You looked back at her over your shoulder, more confused than anything else.

"What are yo-"

She used her hand to angle your chin forcefully back to the mirror. "Shut up and grip the counter."

You did as you were told. Frankly, you were in no position to argue when you were ready to do just about anything to satisfy the building need inside you. You watched the mirror as Alexia hiked up your dress to your hips, exposing your underwear. Running her hands along your back, she moved the zipper fully down before tugging the hem of it upwards. "Off." She demanded next to your ear. You wasted no time pulling it over your head in one swoop and discarding it to the floor, a pink flush appearing in your cheeks as you remembered your decision earlier that day to not wear a bra for comfort purposes, regretting it more than anything as you watched how Alexia took her time to run her eyes up and down the length of your body in the reflection. When she caught your eye again, her smirk only grew at your flustered appearance, which if anything, only made you more flushed. Slowly she began to drag your underwear down your legs, gaze intent on watching just how wet you had gotten for her. Even the simple graze of her fingers down your legs felt like enough to make you explode. You stepped out of them awkwardly from your compromising position, feeling as the cold air hit you.

Her veined hands wrapped around the base of your neck, thumb acting to angle your head firmly back to the mirror. "Keep your eyes on mine yeah?" Her words were paired by her thumb softly caressing your jaw though her firm grip on your neck reminded you of her true intentions. You looked at your reflection then, namely the way your hair had lost any essence of normality thanks to Alexia's forcefulness, but also at how easily you had let yourself end up in this current position. You were on full display in front of her with nothing left to spare and she hadn't done anything but remove her jacket.

Suddenly, your scrutiny was interrupted by the feeling of her knee prying the back of your legs open as her other arm curved around the front of your stomach gliding further down. Her two fingertips ran against your folds, going lower to toy you with your entrance. Your hands gripped the counter tighter as you struggled to keep your eyes from folding over in pure bliss. You felt as your arousal pooled along her fingers.

"Don't get that shit on me." She met your eyes in the mirror as she warned and you knew better than to question her.

You could barely ruminate in the feeling before she slipped both digits in, causing your mouth to fall agape, eyes fixated on her as you let out a tortured gasp. Despite how ready you were, the lack of preparation you got was enough to make you clench around her. Slowly she pulled her fingers out before pumping into you again, making sure to toy with your g spot as she curled up inside you. She knew exactly how and where you wanted her, continuing to fuck you slowly, as she hit every single angle which made you arch your back into her chest. She moved her hand from your chin to caress the curve of your shoulders and down your chest, taking your left nipple in between her fingers before pinching it, sending a spike of pain through your nerves whilst simultaneously causing a flood of heat to your core. She continued to rub you between her fingers as her other hand moved in and out of you, painstakingly steady. As she curled into you again, you arched off her, which she quickly undid, forcing her arm back to push you back further onto her.

"Alexia-" you whimpered, the movement of her fingers filling you again and again.

"Words." She bit back, gaze darkened.

"God, you feel so good." You didn't even recognise your voice, high-pitched and filled with a desperation that was embarrassingly obvious. You tried to grind down against her in order to quicken the pace, causing her palm to press against your clit with every move and sending your head backwards as you bared your neck.

"I know." Her voice was more breathy than before, though she tried hard to not show it. You could tell that watching you fuck yourself on nothing but her fingers was enough to stroke that massive ego of hers as well as stir a building need to ruin you.

It was when she began to thrust in and out of you with a devastating pace that you felt all semblance of composure slip. Your hands gripped the counter tighter as your knees shook from the sensation, barely holding onto your weight. Noticing your struggle, you watched as her arms flexed in the mirror, supporting your body and keeping you pressed against her. Your eyes opened to find her own in the mirror, glancing at you, half-lidded, gaze burning with lust and control. You watched the way her hair fell across her shoulder, the way her muscles tensed as she worked her hands, the way she smiled at you when you found her eyes again. A strangled, louder moan escaped your lips, the mix of her composure and the pace of her fingers sending you into complete overdrive.

She lent close to your ear, slowing her fingers a bit, forcing you to pay attention to her words.

"Unless you want your little girlfriend to hear how much you love my fingers in you, be fucking quiet." You gave her a soft nod, biting your lip as you met her stare in the mirror. You couldn't help but feel your heart drop at the mention of Ona. This was so wrong. But you couldn't deny how much you wanted this. Needed this. Needed her. Just tonight. So you let yourself drown in the feeling. You let yourself slip through the cracks as she lent back and moved inside you faster. And when she slipped a 3rd finger in, the line between pain and pleasure became so hazy, you could barely keep yourself up.

"Wait...Fuck," You tried to plead.

"Just take it." Her voice was low and demanding, using her spare hand to grip your waist. You bit down on your lip once more, trying to contain your cries. You tried your best to relax around her but against her harsh speed, it barely made a difference. A tear rolled down your cheek, vision clouding from sheer overstimulation but even then, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer, exacerbated by her palm pressing harder on your clit, circling with about the same speed. Your mouth dropped open slightly but you managed to bite your tongue, silently taking every last part of her fingers.

She tapped your leg then with her spare hand. "Lift." You tried your best, limbs weak as you moved your knee up to the counter, feeling yourself open up even more. Using this new angle to her advantage, Alexia began moving into you harder, sending your head into a spin.

Just as she did a knock came from outside, the door knob rattling as the door started to shake in its place. Your head snapped to it, breath stilling. A few Spanish voices was all you could make out from the other side, nothing but a distant mumble. But Alexia didn’t stop. Instead, she simply kicked her leg out, slamming the door back into its locked position, her fingers refusing to cease as she spoke back. "Ocupada." The feeling of Alexia's teeth sinking into your shoulder blade sent your head flying back to the mirror as you cried out, the pain sharp, sending heat through your body.

"Watch..." She spoke against your skin, gripping your chin in her hands, this time unwavering as you drew towards your high. "Or I stop."

You were a fucking mess. Splayed out in a borderline pornographic way, your forehead had a slight sheen of sweat, hair sticking to your scalp as your face grew more than a little lewd, pupils blown out, mouth agape and lips still swollen from before. Your moans had reduced to nothing more than incoherent mumbles of yes and fuck, her occasional, low, spanish grunts filling your ears as she watched you break. You held her eyes in the mirror as you rocked your hips against her hand, chasing your high and watching as the smirk plastered on her face only grew as you became more and more wrecked. You would call it cock-drunk but all it took was her stupid fucking hands. You could feel the pressure in your core building with every move and you weren't sure whether you could hold out for much longer. Letting out a soft keen, you dropped most of your weight to her arms.

"I'm so fucking close" you mumbled.

"Yeah? You wanna come?" Her gaze was still steady on yours, magnetic and dominating.

"Mhm."

"Ya sabes qué hacer." The smile in her words more obvious now.

"Please...I-" your words were cut short by a moan as she curled her fingers against your walls. "Fuck. Please let me come." You managed.

"Mmm who gets you this fucking wet?" Her voice was so mocking and you couldn't care less.

The answer was simple. "You."

"¿Quién sabe cómo hacerte sentir tan bien?"

"You."

"Say my name." Her words trailed off into a strangled breath.

"Alexia. Please." You whimpered.

"Again." Her tone was harsher now, her eyes closed in ecstasy as she gripped you further back onto her, listening to the way you keened her name.

"Alexia..." You moaned slightly louder.

"Slut." Her words contained a hint of a chuckle as she grabbed your hair into a ponytail, forcing your neck back.

She pressed down harder and harder, moving at a destructive pace against you. You held her eyes as she curled against your g spot, searing pleasure throughout your heat and sending you over the edge. Hot, white ecstasy coursed through your body, your weight fully dependent on her arms as the throbbing in your cunt quickly turned into oversensitivity, You felt your eyes brim with tears, causing her to slow her hand and pull out of you, wiping her fingers on your thigh.

She barely gave you a second to come down from your high, spinning you around forcefully to face her. She looked deeply into your eyes, angling your head up as she moved closer to you. Wanting nothing more than to taste her soft lips after her brutality, your eyes fluttered closed. You waited desperately. When the lack of anything on your mouth became more apparent, you opened your eyes to find her still staring down at you, inches away, smirking as she ran her fingers on your jaw. Without another word Alexia turned on her heels and exited the bathroom door, leaving you here. Alone. And completely undone.

#woso community #woso fanfics #barcelona women #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso smut #woso #woso fic

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ew-selfish-art · 11 months

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My brain is unwilling to let go of Twin AU prompts. Sorry for the long post lmao.

Jazz and Jason are getting pretty serious in their relationship, and honestly, they’ve both been hesitant to introduce their family members to one another despite constantly talking about them. They’ve been dating since she started her doctoral studies at Gotham U and she’s about to defend her dissertation, so it really is about time. He saved her in her first week as the Red Hood and he immediately felt at home with her (something, something liminal), she runs into him the next day at a coffee shop and thanks him for taking the time to help her.

Identities are obviously blown. Jason knows that her brother works in ‘politics’ and her younger sister is a travel blogger, and that the three of them don’t talk to her mad scientist parents anymore. Jazz knows that he came back from the dead, his adoptive family had a slew of issues in addition to their hero-complexes and that he would be prepared to kill for any one of his siblings. Their communication skills are top notch.

But then came the issue of actually meeting the family. Like Jazz knows all of the drama between the siblings but could not pick them out of a line up, or more importantly, know who to talk to if an emergency situation came up. Jason agrees, that yeah, it would probably be for the best if he could at least identify her little brother and sister if they had to like, meet at hospital or something.

So that was the plan. Invite just siblings over to their shared apartment, no parents and no fuss. (She even called Danny ahead of time to tell him not to portal straight into the apartment, he needed to walk in the door like a normal person. They could share Ghost King secrets later.)

Tim arrives first, he’d been working a case nearby and Jazz & Jason live pretty close to a nice coffeeshop, so he stopped along the way. He’d done some creeping to figure out that she drinks Chai so he brought one for her. Creepy and yet, endearing.

Ellie comes in second from the window, launching into a story about how annoying it was to find the place with all the gloom, didn’t this city have any respect for the dead? Tim doesn’t get it but Jason is laughing along so Tim files it away for later.

Dick comes in with a shit ton of Pizza he panic ordered, a fruit bouquet and two bottles of wine from Bruce’s cellar. Duke came along with him, a large tupperware of Alfred’s cookies.

Then Steph, Babs and Cass show up, immediately treating Jazz like family while also being hella suspicious about the whole thing. She notices them looking at her hands and Jazz explains that no, they weren’t doing this because Jason proposed. Steph and Cass are annoyed at Jason but tell Jazz she could do better if she wanted. Babs is happy they aren’t rushing into anything (she’s the only one besides Tim that knows how long they’ve been dating- this is just to throw out a red herring for the others)

Everyone is getting along and having a great time, Ellie being a natural entertainer along side Dick, everyone trying to tell embarrassing stories about Jason. Loud noises are coming from the hallway when they realize that neither Damian nor Danny had arrived.

Rushing out the door, the boys are alternating putting each other into choke holds and arguing about not being clones. Danny keeps phasing out of Damian’s grip and Damian keeps pulling out more knives. The hallway looks like it had been blown up and the two are continuing to yell at one another about going to a family dinner. Jason and Jazz just stare at them from the doorway, and wouldn’t you know it, they look like fucking twins.

Jazz grabs Danny, Jason grabs Damian, and everyone is fucking confused. Both sides of the family can confirm growing up with the twins, that neither are a clone. Ellie helpfully supplies that she’s the clone and that opens a whole other bag of chaos.

Eventually they get everyone to sit down for dinner and the night gets weirder from there.

#dc x dp #dc x dp fic #twins au #danny and damian are twins #anger management #jason and jazz just wanted a chill night why is that never possible #Damian and danny have to figure out what the fuck is going on but neither are willing to call their parents to confirm #Damian would rather die than ask talia #Danny would rather die again than ask the drs fenton #They both decide that its fucking weird but if jazz and jason get married they were going to be family anyway #Danny is honestly excited to have a third version of himself around #Damian is willing to be civil for the time being so long as Danny doesn't try to step on any heir related topics #danny phantom #dc universe #dp x dc #dpxdc

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hellishjoel · 9 months

Text

dark paradise

5.2k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

summary: Your mind is flooded with the memories of your private time with Joel in his woodshed, but he hasn't reached out to you since the bonfire and it's been a week. You go next door to give him a piece of your mind.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, Joel in his 40’s), dbf/neighbor!joel, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, pet names, praise, Joel being a horrible communicator and texter

A/N: I edited this 12+ times and kept changing stuff, so therefore there’s probably mistakes. There’s your one and only warning lol. I’m so excited you guys are eating up the first part (off to the races), I hope the next parts to come keep ya’ll entertained ;)

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved. He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin. “On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face. “I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch.

Time seemed to slow after your interaction with Joel in his woodshed. The days following the bonfire were filled with excitement but quickly followed by dread and anxiety. It had been a week.

No text, no calls, no anything.

It wasn’t that serious. It was just Joel. Besides, you had a vibrator to fill the void until he finally decided to reach out to you. Whenever that may be.

Days one and two were the most riveting. Every time you thought of Joel, your heart raced a little faster. You didn’t have a long list of sexual endeavors, so this was still noteworthy. Giving head to your hot forty-year-old neighbor. You wondered what else would come from it. More importantly, when.

Days three and four felt routine and mundane. After picking around your breakfast and staring out the window to Joel’s empty driveway, you would wander to your back porch to read a book on the dock.

You were lucky to catch glimpses of Sarah. Her summer was busy with her friends from school and working a part-time job to afford having fun the summer before her senior year. If she was free, you guys would jump in the lake, sit on the dock together, tell stories, and catch up on everything that was happening in each other’s lives. Well, not everything.

Days five and six were torture. Your vibrator had died from its excessive use, and your fingers weren’t cutting it. You wanted Joel, you needed Joel. You hated to admit it, especially since he hadn’t paid a singular ounce of attention to you since the bonfire last Saturday. Even worse, after deciding to watch Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron with your family during a movie night, you started thinking even the horse was kind of attractive.

Day seven started with your room covered in a pale blue light. You didn’t know what time it was. You weren’t sure how much you slept, but you knew it was very little. This ache was pestering your insides, spreading a rot like an old tree log. Your mind couldn’t fade away from the way Joel felt inside your mouth, the way he filled your throat, and you breathed through the choke. Or the way he finished on your face and your tongue.

Your well-painted memory of it all was already beginning to fade. The details weren’t as crisp, you wanted to remember every detail and hold on to it for as long as possible.

That’s what you were trying to imagine at this ungodly early morning hour. The birds weren’t even chirping outside yet. Your fan slowly circled, trying to cool you off from the sticky Texas heat. You wished your windows weren’t jammed closed.

You heard a thud outside, your body alert as you swiftly sat up and peeked out the window.

Despite it being a Saturday, you watched a tired and slow Joel walk out to his old pickup truck and toss a brown bag lunch inside. Where was he off to so early?

He was wearing his chunky worn-in work boots, splattered with drops of white paint stained into the leather by the steel toe. They were heavy with each step he took on his rickety wooden deck. His faded dark blue jeans sat snug on his hips with his wallet stuffed in the back pocket. His dark hair dashed with silver grays was still damp from his morning shower.

You watched behind foggy glass as he patted down his jeans and mumbled something, swiftly turning on his heel and lightly jogging up his steps before disappearing inside again.

Seeing him after a week of silence bubbled up a hint of anger and annoyance in you. It annoyed you that he looked so good.

Your feet found their way onto cold hardwood before you could waste another second. You would give him a piece of your mind in fuzzy slippers and an oversized rusty-orange Texas Longhorns t-shirt that was so draped over you that it covered your black sleep shorts.

You tiredly navigated your way out of your room quietly, not to wake your parents down the hall. You crossed your arms and hugged them to your body, the early morning chill hitting you once you were outside. You crossed your driveway to his truck, slowing once you reached his perched-down tailgate. Joel had resurged from his house with his truck keys in hand, his steps slowing once you two shared eye contact.

You’d be standing here all day if you expected Joel to speak first.

“Hey.”

He gave you a small nod, his eyes dropping to the shirt that reached the tops of your thighs before they managed their way back up to your face. “Mornin’.”

He closed the gap between his porch steps and his tailgate, setting down his toolbelt and box in the bed. He looked rigid, tight in the shoulders and chest. His close proximity made you step a few paces back, the length of the tailgate separating you from Joel.

You were afraid that if he stood too close, he might feel how badly you wanted him by radiation alone. Especially now, fresh out of the shower, half-wet curls plastered to his forehead, still smelling a little musky with his body wash.

You finally let out an aggravated sigh, hip landing against the tailgate with your arms still crossed.

“So… where are you going this early on a Saturday?” Your face still held a slightly pinched expression though you tried to ask a casual question.

Your curiosity made the left side of his mouth tick up in a lopsided little smirk.

“You wanna tell me the real reason you came over here?” Joel’s tactics were ruthless. It made you feel small, young. But you weren’t, not anymore.

You took in a sharp breath through your nose, eyes on his as your head fell to the side. Finally, the ticking time bomb inside you was counting down. All of your pent-up sexual frustration would be launched at this lumberjack of a man.

“You haven’t texted me.”

“Christ,” he muttered, annoyance passing over his face. “Sun’s not even up yet.”

“Joel.” You pushed.

“Haven’t texted you in a few years.” He said lamely.

“I know, the last thing I have from you is asking me what you think my dad would like for a birthday present.”

“I value your input.” His teasing didn’t make you any less angry. Joel could tell. “I don’t text anyone much besides Sarah. ‘ts the only way I can get ahold of her. Don’t even remember I own a phone half the time.”

“I know.” Your arms crossed tighter around your body. “But I have… needs.” Your voice awkwardly teetered as you evaded his eye contact.

“Needs? Do ya, now?” Joel’s accent came out swinging, his signature smirky-smile working in combination with his cocked up eyebrow. But your face held evidence of your disappointment.

There’s a gentle lull. He should have texted you, and you shouldn’t be here telling him that. He knows. Or maybe you shouldn’t expect so much from a guy like Joel. No wedding ring, brooding, a bull with horns, Joel. Wouldn’t know it was his birthday without Sarah reminding him, Joel. Wouldn’t leave the house if he didn’t have to, Joel. Wouldn’t think to text his horny neighbor next door, Joel.

“Didn’t text me either, sweetheart.” He points out, making your head snap up with wide doe eyes. Shit. He was right.

You didn’t text him, either. You were just sort of expecting it out of him. You hoped he would lead the way, be the guide, reach out wanting more. But that wasn’t Joel. Were you both playing this devilish waiting game? You felt a little silly, your insides wrapping in knots as he surveyed you.

“Well I-”

“You what?”

He was the one grilling into you now. The sun began cresting over the water, bleaching your surroundings in a pale orange. The sun’s glare caused Joel’s eyes to squint slightly to block it out.

You rolled your head to the side and wiggled around as you tried to stand still against his tailgate. Your frustrations were evident as you rubbed your crossed legs together.

This wasn’t the same girl who took a leap of faith in his woodshed, who crossed the boundary between nothing to something, and set you and Joel up for a thrilling summer. You just wanted him to tell you that he wanted it too. To fuck around and do something different. Make this summer worth a damn.

“I didn’t know if you wanted more.” You finally muster up, your voice smaller than you intended, shifty eyes looking over his.

Your statement made him scoff, having to look away from you with a wicked smile. The orange luminescence of the sun warmed his otherwise cold face. He was amused, maybe even a little offended by your statement.

“‘Course I want more.” He strained before pausing, his voice lowering as he took another step closer. “Look at you. Wearin’ my shirt.” He said before he towered over you, making the first point of contact as his hand reached for your hip and pulled you in closer, his fist clutching the worn-in orange t-shirt.

You blinked a few times before looking down where he fisted the material. Shit. He was right again.

Joel had given this to you the last summer you were in Danbury. You and Sarah took a late-night dip in the lake, and she wanted you to sleep over and watch a movie in the basement. You were too lazy to walk back home and change, so Joel gave you a towel and his Longhorns t-shirt.

You easily could have snagged a shirt from Sarah’s closet, but Joel caught you sneaking into his house and dripping water everywhere.

“Just take this. Go dry off. Get warmed up.” A statement laced with annoyance and precaution for his floors, but also attentive care.

It was probably supposed to be just for the night, but you stole it.

You remember that evening vividly. It was the first time you fantasized about Joel. Because the shirt wrapped you up and smelled of his musk and deodorant. It brought on a certain warm fuzziness in your tummy. The shirt had been incorporated so much in your wardrobe these last two years or so, you had forgotten its origin. But it was Joel’s.

And now you were standing here in front of him, his shirt draped over your body like an oversized blanket, showing the curves of your tits. He was fantasizing about you too. Fucking you while wearing his shirt.

There was an undeniable tension that now settled between the two of you, one you surely couldn’t satisfy in his driveway. But that didn’t mean Joel didn��t feel the same way.

His hold on your hip tightened, your lips parting in surprise as his other hand came to your waist and hoisted you up onto the tailgate of his truck.

He was hot, possessive of your body wrapped in his shirt.

“Does it look like I don’t want you?” Joel’s voice was husky, lust filled. You liked getting this sort of reaction out of him. His question caused an ache in you, white heat pooling in the base of your stomach.

Your neediness for him returned. Addicted to his touch, you felt a rush of adrenaline pulse through your body. Joel parted your legs with his body by standing between them, your little fists gripping his large biceps as you tried to regain your bearings. He was so big and burly, wide set shoulders, and a toned chest. You wanted to see him shirtless, examine his body when your time together wasn’t so limited.

“Joel,” his name dripped off your lips with desperation, sweet like honey. He knew how you said his name when you wanted him. It brought back vivid memories of you kneeling in front of him in his woodshed.

Comfort brought you back, knowing it was safe to lean in and start kissing his stubbled neck. You didn’t want to kiss his lips, it still felt too intimate. Joel picked up on your hesitations and silently obeyed.

Once you got to the base of his neck by the collar of his shirt, he let out a surprisingly loud grunt that he tried to jam down into silence but had failed. It caught you off guard, the ways he displayed his pleasure.

You moved back in, eager to duplicate the noise as you paid special attention to his sweet spot. You suckled and glided your teeth over the pinpoint before he forced himself away.

“Keep it below the collar, sweetheart.” His twangy southern drawl was drenched in pleasure.

You smirked as you tugged at the collar gently with your teeth, letting it go and seeing it snap back into place around his tan neck.

His lips found the crook of your jawline, his lips brushing your earlobe as he took it between his teeth and gently nibbled. The sensation struck a nerve down your center, a weak whine echoing against the collar of his shirt as you tried to stay quiet.

The air had warmed up with the sun’s presence, the birds starting to chirp. Your parents could wake up any minute now, being the early risers they were.

You pulled away to gauge his reaction. Joel was looking between you and the horizon carefully. He was debating. You both had so little time.

“Your parents.” He pointed out, his voice ridged with pain as he planted his body between yours, his large palms splayed on your lower back and upper thigh with his fingers ghosting your sleep shorts.

“Work.” You reminded, lightly tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, fingers delicately brushing over the faded Miller Contracting logo on his breast pocket.

You’re compelled to tell him that you need him. Because you do. You need him terribly.

There was a silence, a deliberation of the masses. Stop while you’re ahead, at least you and Joel realized you were on the same page about wanting more. You could let him go, you should let him go. Meet up another time when it was less risky.

“You’re not pulling away.” Your whisper broke his thoughts. Your long lashes fluttered, and your eyes were filled with an eagerness only Joel could satisfy.

He rolled his head around, jaw tight before shaking his head.

“Well, you have needs.” His words were filled with grit, promise. Be quick.

Your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, feeling the planes of his back under your small palms. Both of Joel’s big hands moved under your t-shirt, your lips parting at the feeling of his calloused and rough hands traversing your soft body. He liked how soft you were, you could tell by the way he was delicately exploring you with his lips plastered on your neck.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whisper, grinding your hips against his desperately while one of your hands wound into the damp curls at the base of his neck. He could use a haircut soon, the longer strands winding around your fingers.

His body loomed so much over you that you were arching your spine, your legs desperately wrapping loose around his waist until he had sufficiently guided you onto your back.

Suddenly his presence lifted. You didn’t realize you were seeing stars until he pulled away. He had way too much of an effect on you.

“Don’t have time to fuck you right, pretty girl.” His words made you puff out a desperate sigh.

“But-”

“But you have needs.” He finished for you, your head feverishly nodding. The truck bed had odd ribs, half your back raised up an inch while your other half was on a little slant. It was uncomfortable to lay your head down on. Once Joel was tugging down your sleep shorts, you were quick to forget the discomfort.

A heavy breath left you as Joel tossed your shorts over his tool belt in the truck bed beside you, feeling him pull your body closer to the edge of the truck bed with your legs pried open for him.

Your eyes widened as he sunk to the ground, jaw dropping as your eyes looked to the sky. Holy shit.

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved.

He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin.

“On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face.

“I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch.

You wished every second with him right now wasn’t fleeting. You wished he could take his time. But the both of you were so wound up anyway, you were happy just to have him be a guest between your legs.

Joel’s beard stubble tickled your thighs, his warm lips leaving a wet trail to your cotton underwear. Your hands needed to stay busy, one planting itself against one of the ribs of the truck bed and the other fisting his toolbelt that adorned a Carhartt patch.

Joel’s mouth was absent for a moment. He was admiring you. Admiring you with your legs spread for him in his Longhorns shirt that was several sizes too big on you. Heat chased through your body, a sly little smirk on your lips.

“Time is of the essence, Joel.”

He didn’t say anything back. He was staring at the wet spot that had formed through the material of your panties. He hummed, cocky satisfaction filling him to the brim.

Joel placed an excruciatingly soft kiss over your covered mound that had you writhing under him eagerly. His palm planted your thigh down again, feeling you quiver under his hold.

You swallowed a lump down your throat as he pulled your underwear to the side, out of his fucking way. He was seeing you for the first time. It made your chest heave with shakier breaths.

You were glistening for him, wet and gleaming in the sunshine that was starting to dance across the lake and over the truck. Panic flooded your core. He was taking his damn time. You needed him now.

“Joel-” you warned again, but it was too late.

His nose nuzzled against your clit as he flattened his tongue and licked up your center, tasting you properly. Your head dug into the truck bed, a loose moan leaving your parted lips as you closed your eyes and experienced a sweet paradise. His tongue flooded you with his saliva, Joel’s taste buds in galore as he tried you for the first time.

You wondered if he thought about you tasting you like this before. The thought as well as his head between your legs left you humming in appreciation.

Your free hand found its purpose, nestling your fingers into Joel’s hair while his head made gentle nods against your core. His jaw was slack, mouth lodged open as he consumed your sex in its entirety. He didn’t leave one centimeter of you unmarked. He commandeered the landscape like it was his territory, his possession.

Puffs of his name left your mouth, you couldn’t help but be vocal when he made you feel this good.

Joel’s tongue moved now with purpose, precision. He lapped at your entrance, tongue dipping in to feel your tight walls before moving back up and around your swollen clit. He was discovering you, what made you tick, what made you burn with passion and lust.

You held back moans of his name, bringing Joel’s shirt you wore up into your mouth by the collar to bite down onto. Your muffles were concealed by the material for now.

You ground your hips lightly into his face, finding a rhythm you liked. He lets you. He wants you to feel good.

Thumps of your heart pounded against your chest, Joel’s tongue still working perfect circles and swipes at your clit. He pulled away just for a moment to wet his fingers, you watch through hooded eyes. His amber ones flick to yours. Can I?

You nod your head, a silent and desperate yes.

He pursed his lips, face pierced with concentration as he pushed his middle finger into you, your walls welcoming the intrusion with a flood of arousal to allow him deeper. You took in a shaky gasp as he filled you to the knuckle.

“Fuckk-” you said a little too loud, your eyes widening as you covered your mouth and got a well-deserved glare from Joel.

“Can’t hold yourself together, can ya, pretty girl?” His voice was as rough as gravel.

You couldn’t even answer him back, the threads that held together your integrity were slowly plucking loose.

You whimpered like crazy, the shirt swallowing as much of the noise as it could, but the rhythm of his finger and his mouth returning to your clit was sending electric currents through your entire body. You were short-circuiting with Joel’s tongue and fingers playing with your pussy.

Joel’s mouth was warm, the taste of you a new hunger for him. You could hear his jeans scuff against the ground. He was trying to hold himself steady. The realization made you throw your head back, losing the shirt as a vice as you gripped his strands tighter between your knuckles.

“Fuck, Joel--, ohmygod-” you whimpered quietly. The slurping of your cunt was louder than your words. The noise felt so loud in your pounding ear drums, you were worried it would wake the neighbors. The neighbors being your parents and Joel’s daughter.

You were close, even with just one of his fingers inside of you, you were close. You

weren’t sure if it was because of your pent-up sexual tension, your vibrator dying, or your fingers not doing you justice. Maybe it was the fact that it was Joel Miller, but you were holding onto a very thin rope on the verge of snapping.

You pulled your shirt up, releasing his toolbelt as your hand fondled your tits. You could feel him smirk against your thighs as you pinched at your hardened round nipples.

“Such a pretty girl.. Taste so fuckin’ good too.” His words reverberate against your core, the vibrations tickling your clit and making you whine his name. His compliment caused a certain warmth in your chest.

Your head lulled from side to side. He wasn’t letting you know peace once he added a second finger. You had to take a moment to adjust but Joel could feel it, he knew exactly what to do and when. He was so seasoned, experienced, he’d be the first guy to make you cum like this.

Your thigh against his head clenched tighter around his shoulder, keeping him in close against your core as he continued to work his tongue in figure eights around your clit. The soothing circles were creating a harmonious rhythm, your stomach felt like it was going to fall through a trapdoor. You weren’t going to last much longer.

Then he tried something new.

A loud gasp left your lips, your body scraping its way to sit up on your elbows as you watched him nibble and suckle at your clit. Your elbow had nicked his exposed flathead screwdriver in the process, a hiss seething from your mouth. It didn’t matter now. All your mind could focus on was Joel and his hellish tongue.

The suckling at your clit unlocked something undiscovered, your lips parting in fascination before your head fell back and landed on the tops of your shoulders as you looked to the heavens with blurry vision.

A lazy smirk was plastered on your face as he held you in place. You weren’t going anywhere.

Heated pants left your mouth, unable to breathe with the new sensation. The sucking was a distinct sensation, one you liked. You could feel his teeth just lightly grazing your sensitive bud. It made your thighs twitch, and your walls flutter around his still pumping fingers.

Joel’s digits moved gently with their thrust, a gasp of his name flooding the air as he curled them deep, massaging your spongy walls.

You were breathless. You could barely muster up anything besides his name weakly on your lips. You tried to tell him, but it was already too late.

“J-Joel I’m-- I’m cominggg, shit,” you moaned out a little too loud. The whole valley around you echoed, or so it seemed. Joel’s protective grip tightened, your hips convulsing as you came over his tongue. He fucking loved it. He held you there and took you for everything you were worth.

You dropped to your back once more, his fingers still working a slow rhythm that he was insistent on not breaking until your walls stopped fluttering around his knuckles. You were still trying to come down to Earth when he licked you clean, your body twitching every time he flicked his tongue against your throbbing clit on purpose. Fucking asshole.

Your hold on his hair loosens. You can’t help but make a face at the sight of him. Wild curly locks, mouth and chin covered in your slick, slightly flushed cheeks. He looked just as fucked as you did. He looked submissive on his knees, his eyes gleaming as he looked to you.

You watch with obsession as he mindlessly pops his two fingers past his lips, licking them clean of your slick. Such a compliment.

He guided your leg off his shoulder and put your underwear back in its place.

You leaned up on your elbows, still seeing stars. Joel stood up from the ground and brushed any residual dirt and dust off his jeans. He brought his hand up and toyed with his jaw, meaty fingers adding pressure into the masseter muscle as he worked to relieve the tension that had built while going down on you with such dedication.

You weakly sat up, the slotted ribs of his truck bed making indents in the flesh of your arms and thighs. Brands of your filth. Your big shirt fell back into place, your legs swinging lightly as they hung off the truck bed. You glanced at the back of your arm, seeing the scrape from his tools. You’d be fine.

Once you turned straight to face Joel once more, you noticed he was fighting back a little smile about something, his hands on his hips and his knee cocked out.

“What?” You ask, trying to scoot further down the tailgate.

“Nothin’.” He said gruffly, taking you by your hips and lifting you with ease like a ragdoll back onto the ground. His eyes stayed on the floor, your curious gaze following his down to your fluffy slippers.

“Oh.” You muster up, clicking the toes together.

“They’re uh… cute.” He tried to compliment, still with a teasing smirk on his face.

“Shut up. They’re slippers.” You griped, your hand coming up to wipe away the glisten on his chin. He took over, pinching the collar of his shirt between his fingers and bringing it up to wipe away what was left of you. It was oddly attractive.

He reached past his toolbox and belt, handing over your black sleep shorts after feeling over the material for a moment with a swipe of his thumb.

You muster up a thanks, looping one foot in and then the other before you adjusted the band around your waist, the orange t-shirt falling back into place at your thighs.

You couldn’t help but look around, the serenity of the early morning hours would only last so long on the lake. People liked to walk their dogs and jog, you didn’t want anyone reporting gossip.

You turned back to Joel and assessed him. The Texas sun was already making both of your skin swelter, despite it being just past sunrise.

You took in a sharp breath to say something, pursing your lips to keep them shut. Joel looked at you expectantly.

“What?”

You shook your head and shrugged, holding your hands behind your back as you teetered on your feet.

A stern expression passed over his face. “What?” He pressed harder.

You tried to smother a laugh. “Your hair, Joel.”

With an annoyed sigh, Joel amused trying to tousle his curls into place with the assistance of his truck’s driver-side mirror, grumbling a few curse words in response before leaving it be.

You admire him, how handsome he looks so effortlessly. You suddenly became glaringly aware of how you looked right now. No makeup, baggy clothes, could use a shower. Fuck.

“I gotta get goin’, already late.” Joel said as he returned to the tailgate, lifting it with ease and slamming it into place with a few sharp snaps. “I’ll see you. And I’ll message you.”

A small smile ticked at one half of your mouth, nodding. It was a promise. “Please call it texting, Joel.”

He furrowed his brows as he looked over your face. “What difference does it make?”

You snickered and shrugged. “How old you sound.”

Cue the classic Joel Miller eye roll. “Fine. Textin’.”

“How can you be working on a Saturday? That feels illegal.”

This mustered up a short little chortle from Joel. “It’s not technically working, that’s why.”

Your head curiously tilted to the side. “What do you mean?”

Joel shrugged, avoiding your eye contact as he looked past his truck and to the lake.

This was what you had to deal with. Trying to get information out of Joel was an investigative effort, one you didn’t have the energy to dig into at the moment. You finally felt tired after your week of restlessness.

You waved each other off, your face electric as you turned away from Joel and snuck back inside without a peep. As soon as you lay back in bed, feeling your heart thumping after your meet-up with Joel, you heard the door to your parent’s room crack open, and your father’s obnoxious morning yawn followed accordingly. Couldn’t have cut it any closer.

Finally, you felt sleep caressing the edges of your mind. Not a beat after your head hit the pillow, you felt your phone vibrate beside you. With hazy eyes, you turned it over in your palm and squinted at the brightness.

joel miller Anything I can do to get in your good graces again?

You instantly smiled, lazy fingers typing a response.

how about a movie night?

He took a moment to respond. You could see him thinking it over in your mind’s eye.

joel miller Fine.

Your face lit up as you quickly took advantage of him owing you one.

and I can pick the movie?

You could practically feel Joel’s eye roll from a mile away.

joel miller Jesus. Fine. Tomorrow night.

Tomorrow was perfect. Sarah said she would be on a camping trip and your parents would be visiting old school friends in a neighboring town for drinks and dinner.

tomorrow night it is, mr. miller

joel miller Whatever you say sweetheart.

---

wanna read part 3? read cherry!

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theysaidhush · 3 months

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cathybrid!jungwon and doghybrid!jake in heat and all they wanna do is fill reader with their kittens/pups 😵 and theyre so competitive the whole time trying their hardest to get her pregnant first

"i'll give you my puppies baby, wouldnt that be so nice?"

"fuck off she doesnt want your mutts. how does carrying my kittens sound huh cutie?"

(ps i love ur work so much actually aaaakvksh)

Roommates Cat!Jungwon and Dog!Jake bickering as they fuck you

I have a damn breeding king and it shows it's killing me... Thank you so much I hope it reached your expectation!

For some reason my English is sooo bad today please bear (beer?) with me TT

They are your roommates and have been eyeing you for ages. But respectfully of course. At first it was just curiosity, it was new, you were a girl, the only girl in their apartment - that they were sharing with Sunghoon, who was almost never here. But most importantly, you were human.

You didn't have a clue about their habits - their counterparts' habits, and it was so funny, you were funny! Trying to navigate through your house-share with hybrids with the help of Google - you didn't want to make a salad for them to mock you after, as it has once happened when you were on duty in the kitchen.

But the fact that you were clueless was even more entertaining when it came to skin-ship. Both of them fed you bullshit about how they needed to touch you and how they needed you to touch them. It was in their DNA so the answer to their need couldn't be Google, right ?

And even if it weirded you out a bit at the beginning - because they were still grown up men, you eventually got used to it.

You got used to have Jungwon snuggling his head in the crook of your neck when you were watching a movie together, his tail flickering here and there when an intense scene was happening in the movie.

You got used to have Jake fall on top of you after a long day at work, stroking his cheeks on your hair, saying that it was just another demonstration of affection like any other - never mind the cat's bombastic side eyes towards the dog.

You got used to have them hovering over you when you were on your period, handing you things which they hope would make you feel better - ice cream, hot water bottle, chocolate, their ears? name it and you have it. Most of the time, Jake would sleep into your bed - with your consent - and you would watch a movie together.

But you never, never got used to them pounding into your cunt or your mouth while praising you and bickering over your head.

You never got used to the way they would take turn ravishing your body, mapping your body with their tongues and soft kisses.

You never got used to the feeling of their sweating and burning skin pressed against yours, making you whimper and complain a bit at the feeling of their sweat sticking to your skin, rolling down your curves as they watch you, delighted, hair stuck to their forehead because of their damn heat.

You never got used to how they take turn fucking you, how it seems like they're hitting deeper and harder every time they switch places, trying to prove that they can fuck you better than the other.

You never got used to the expression on their face when they are looking down at you through their lashes, eyebrows furrowed and doe eyes semi-closed.

You never got used to how Jake manhandles you so you're on all four, just to pump his cum deep enough for his instinct to be satisfied, his tail wagging excitedly at the prospect of fucking you full of his pups.

You never got used to how Jungwon always follows after him with a sneer on his face at your position as he pushes your head in the covers, ears pinned to his skull as he mounts you and tells Jake that it's how you "properly fuck your cat".

You never got used to how they always fill you up to the brim, always pushing each other's cum deeper inside your womb until they're worn out and your tummy is swollen because of the sheer amount of seed inside it.

What happens next?

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #jake sim smut #jake sim hard hours #jake sim hard thoughts #yang jungwon hard hours #yang jungwon smut #yang jungwon hard thoughts #jake sim x reader #yang jungwon x reader

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miioouu · 7 months

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Mean Dad's Best Friend! Ghost

In which he asks you to hook him up with your bestie as you're riding him. Tw: smut, age gap (ghost is in his late 30s, reader in her early 20s), f!reader, mean mean ghost, a bit of dumbification if you squint like really hard. Wc: 2.1k

"You're a big girl now!" is the first thing Ghost said when you opened the door to greet your dad's military friends. You only smiled at him, with a slight blush as you took the small bag from him, which you assumed is your birthday gift.

"It's not everyday that you turn 21 my dear, so let's celebrate big time. Invite your friends, I'll invite mine, we'll have a nice barbecue, the weather is nice this weekend." and although you didn't need such fancy celebrations, how could you deny your old dad? How could you reject the chance of seeing one of his dearest friends, the one you've been fantasising about for years now? So you nodded, eager to invite your friends over.

It might've been your first mistake that night. How dare she? Come to your house, your birthday party, in such a short dress (albeit, it wasn't too short, but it got your blood boiling anyway). How dare she smile so brightly, her shoulders shaking with every laugh, her eyelashes batting anytime someone would say a word to her? And more importantly, how dare she steal his attention? His chocolate eyes following her every move, twinkling and shining when the wind would lift her dress up just a tiny bit, revealing more of her thighs, darting over to hers whenever he made a joke, seeing if she's laughing. How dare she walk past him? Making him sit up straight, his nose flaring up, obviously under his mask, to breathe in her perfume. And what made it worse? when she sat next to him at the table, your place, your seat. When he started to serve her, put food on her plate, pouring her a drink as if she couldn’t do it herself, as if she’s the birthday girl getting spoiled on her special day. When your eyes would stray to him, seeing his thumb rubbing circles on her knee, pushing the hem of her dress up to feel more of her plush skin. How dare she steal Ghost away from you? And how dare he entertain her too?

Just because you're older doesn't mean you're more mature, and doesn't mean that you have to be the bigger person. Your eyes start to line up with tears as you saw the big man lean in to whisper something in her ear that made her blush and giggle, making you storm up, excusing yourself for a second as you stomped to your bedroom to deal with your feelings in peace, away from everyone and precisely her.

Your face was buried in your pillows, silencing your screams of frustration, you haven't even seen the light peaking through the opening door, you haven't even heard it close and lock. You only felt a hand, big, warm, and calloused, slipping under your shirt, rubbing circles on the small of your back. "Can't have the princess be sad on her special day, hmm?" His hum sounded more like a growl, rumbling in his chest, trembling your whole soul. You didn't want to look at him, giving him the same treatment that he gave you all night, but he knew you couldn't resist him; not when his hand slid further up your back, experienced fingers undoing your bra with ease, and it's only when you felt the mattress sink under his weight that you looked at him with puffy red eyes.

He's cruel, it's not new information. Of course he is, years in the military broke his moral compass. Years of violence and brutality enabled him to differentiate between right and wrong, why else would he be chuckling over your tears? Why else would his lips be pressing sentimental kisses to the back of the neck of someone half his age? "What's the matter darling? who's gotten you so upset tonight?" you didn't have to answer, your glare was enough for him to understand, and yet again, he laughed. He laughed at your misery, your pain, your jealousy.

He's cruel, it's not new information, but he's manipulative too. Ages of studying the human's body language, he knows exactly how to read between the lines and into their minds. Twisted smiles or gruesome threats, either way, if he wants something, he'll find a way to get it. So is it really a surprise when he flops beside you, the bed squeaking under his enormous figure? His swift hands found your waist quickly, pulling you on top of him with ease, as if you weighed nothing. "Come on, don't be like that princess." He said in his low voice, erupting goosebumps across your skin. He removed your shirt, discarded your bra, throwing them somewhere on your bedroom floor to be lost. And he leaned in. His eyes fluttering as he looked up at you, his lips parting as he locked them around one of your nipples. His hot tongue is flicking your bud, his teeth dragging against your soft flesh here and there, all that while he kept his eyes on yours. He can't help it, such a cute young girl's resolve crumbling because of him.

Oh he's cruel, so cruel; he didn't miss the way your eyes widened in surprise when you felt his wet muscle on your skin, or the way your fingers curled in a fist, shaking as you tried to fight your desire off with reasoning. But he also didn't miss the way your head fell back, a sigh of delight escaping your lips as your digits uncurled and rested on his well defined chest instead. He didn't miss your shivers and the biting of your lips when his hands found purchase on your hips, grinding you against him, softly yet pressing you so tight against him. "Tell me…what have I done that has gotten you in that state?" he asks mischievously, a smirk on his lips because he knows, he knows exactly what he's done. When you don't answer him and only let out a frustrated huff as your grip tightens around his shirt, he rolls his eyes "Come on, don't be like that, darling… Was just entertaining her. You know I only have eyes for you." You scoff again at his obvious lie, and you wanted to speak up your mind, let him know you're not one to fool around with, but as soon as you gathered the courage to open your mouth, he lifted you hips up slightly, keeping one hand on you, the other quickly unbuttoning his jeans and in a swift motion pulling them down alongside his boxers; you barely registered the dark spot on them. But yours weren't better. He thanked whatever God is above that you wore a skirt. His fingers easily touch that soft spot between your thighs, chuckling at the wetness covering your flimsy cotton panties.

He's disgusting, really. The way he's teasing himself, eager to see what exactly you are wearing under that red skirt. Is it some cute, girly panties with strawberries on them? or maybe some flowers? Maybe they're stripped, baby blue and white. Or spotted, black and pink. What if they're a solid colour? What's your favourite colour again? Purple, yeah? Yeah, what if you're wearing a soft mauve pair of underwear, with a bow on the front, small lace details on the hem? And he groans at the thought, having enough of restraining himself, he's quick to flip your skirt up, laughing, laughing, when he sees that his assumptions were right, that you were so pretty in purple. You gasped, you whined as you tried to push his hand off "Simon…I…what are you doing?" you wanted to sound angry, livid and grossed out by the older man, but Ghost only looked at you, eyes sparkling brightly in your dimmed bedroom "Showing you that you're my favourite girl, of course!" His voice is laced with malice, and the upturn of his lips didn't make you feel any more reassured.

His fingers pushed your undies aside, too eager to take them off properly, and in all honesty, if they weren't this cute, he would've ripped them off. Your folds are glistening under the light, he can't help but lick his lips at the sight. "Look at you, darling. Look at you…Thought you were mad at me. If that's what I get anytime I make you angry, I might as well do it more often then." He chuckles, mean, as his hands find your hips again, guiding you closer to him, hovering you over his dripping tip. His eyes dart up at you for a second, he expected fear, or disgust, ready to stop if he saw tears rolling down your cheeks, but to his surprise, you were biting your lower lip, your cheeks were a glowy pink, and your eyes were half lidded, it didn't take a genius to see how badly you wanted him.

He's the cruellest man alive, there's no way someone is more evil than him. He didn't give you time, as soon as he heard your small whine when the leaking head of his dick brushed against your clit, he slammed you down onto him. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, your nails digging, tearing little holes in his thin black shirt, as you took all of him in one movement. "Big girl aren't you, dear? Doing such a good job, taking all of me like that…" He groans out after a few thrusts up into you. "But come on now, big girl, you can do it yourself, yeah?" He sounds a little frustrated, irritated and tired that his heels are digging into the mattress and he's the one moving his hips, doing the job.

Your second mistake is that you're too much of a people pleaser, and you had a soft spot for the huge military man. So you nodded at his command, pushing at his shoulders so he's laying flat against your bed as you begin to move. Up and down with every breath you took, your knees already hurting, but you pushed through, picking up the pace each time his fingers dug further in the soft skin of your thighs, a warning of some sort.

He's sweating, beads of perspiration collecting on his forehead as his eyes rolled so far back his skull. "Such a good girl for me." He'd moan out, calloused digits leaving the plushness of your thighs to grab at those of your breasts instead. You whimper, back arching at the feeling, your hands dig further more into his chest to keep yourself steady. "And you know how you could be even a better darling for me?" His voice is with malice, but your mind is already hazy and dizzy, melted as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with every movement you made. You only hummed in acknowledgement; whether you had the brain to think or not, you would've still agreed to whatever he had to say, after all, you wanted to be his good girl, his only girl.

Third mistake, you're a dumb, stupid and hopeful young girl. What were you thinking, really? You thought he'd be kissing you and whispering how much he loves you? That his hands would comb through your hair as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear once you reached your high together and collapsed on his chest?

Your chest is heaving as you approach your climax, your mouth opening to let out a yell of his name as your walls tightened around his length, but he was quick to stop you, pull you into him and pressing his lips to yours to silence you. And yes you hoped for that, you prayed every night into your pillow to feel his lips against yours, wondering what he'd taste like, how they'd feel. But you were disappointed when you felt nothing, just an animalistic kiss, driven by pure instincts and predisposed desires… Where's the love you were dreaming of?

Keep dreaming of it. Keep dreaming of him, because that's the only place you'll ever have him. He's hasty to push you off of him, placing you on the mattress beside him, and looking at you with a hint of disgust after you finally orgasmed, unsatisfied as you didn't feel him fill you up to the brim as you imagined he would. "If you want to be my good girl, hook me up with that pretty friend of yours downstairs. Convince her to give me her number, tell her how stupid my cock makes you. And who knows? Maybe next time, I'll give you what you want." But he didn't mean it, obvious by his tone and the way he rolled his back, cracking his spine as he closed the door behind him as he left, not even glancing your direction as you tried not to cry your heart out…

#ghost x reader #ghost smut #cod smut #simon riley smut #cod x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #female reader #smut

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edenesth · 16 days

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TWTHH Spinoff: Little Touch of Heaven [Teaser]

Pairing: physician!Yunho x herbalist!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Summary: Dedicating his life to his work, Yunho had never bothered to entertain the idea of settling down. Despite encountering many charming women throughout his career, none had sparked his desire for companionship. But everything shifted when he met a certain herbalist whose medicinal knowledge seemed to surpass even his own. What began as mere intrigue might have gradually developed into affection.

A/N: Special thanks to the sweet @sundaybossanova for coming up with the main concept of Yunho's spinoff.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 1

"Mr. Ryu, I'm afraid I'll need all your raspberry and peppermint leaf supply for the day. Lady Park hasn't been doing too well in the early stages of her pregnancy," the physician announced upon entering the apothecary where he regularly obtained his medicines and herbs, his eyes busily scanning around for anything else that could be useful.

"Is that so? You might want to consider our latest batch of Codonopsis root imported directly from China just a week ago. It's highly effective in boosting vital energy and reducing fatigue during pregnancy."

Yunho's head shot up in surprise.

First of all, why hadn't he thought of that before? More importantly, the feminine voice addressing him sounded nothing like the elderly man who usually managed the store. He turned to find a young woman behind the counter, his eyes widening in astonishment.

"O-oh, um... hello there. I didn't realise Mr. Ryu had such a young wife," he blurted out before cursing himself, feeling embarrassed for making such a hasty assumption.

Your face immediately twisted in disgust, "Goodness gracious, you're severely mistaken! I'm his daughter!"

Way to go, you complete idiot!

This is probably gonna be the least angsty one out of all the spinoffs hehe but y'all know how I am, the climax might get a little exciting🙈 As always, I'm excited to hear your thoughts on the concept!

Tag list (1/8): Tumblr is a bitch and won't let me mention more than 5 users in a single sentence, so now my tag list looks like a complete joke🤡

@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs |

@the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline @green-agent |

@stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive @vantediary |

@superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho @vic0921 |

@marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid @sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @pay13 |

@myblovedjyh @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings @chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf |

@shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories @anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 |

@dollce-exe @jan-l @lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 |

@dreamingofyeo @akimkim @scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks |

@borntoshineateez @st4rhwa @ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 |

@beauty143 @naps-over-degree @idfkeddieishot @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @jcalicocatj

#edenesth #the way to this heart #little touch of heaven #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung yunho #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #historical au #joseon era #yunho x reader #yunho x you #ateez fic

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lightwing-s · 4 months

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𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐈

pairing: dick grayson x reader; jason todd x reader

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

a/n: we've created a tradition, 2023 ver. here

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃

"You need to kiss someone at midnight!” said one of the girls sitting on the crowded sofa, the group around her, boys and girls halfway drunk on cheap champagne, erupted in screams and laughter, fighting over the validity of certain superstitions and who’d get to kiss who in the group. “The pagans say it’s for good luck.”

The discussion never ceased, getting louder as spirits were running high. Amongst the loud group, you stood out. Sitting quietly with a drink in hand, a beaming smile adorning your face, laughing at whatever what he assumed were your girl friends said, you caught Jason’s eyes. You’d done so from the moment he entered the apartment.

You wore a sparkly outfit, a little black dress full of sequins that reflected the poor lighting of the room but that was still unable to outshine your natural beauty. He watched you attentively, entertained by your joy and enamored with the sound of your laughter.

Your eyes had met a few times since his arrival, briefly, shyly, sharing quiet smiles and a few winks, a secret interaction you hoped no one else had noticed but you. Not out of embarrassment, but from wanting it to be uniquely yours.

Jason had been under actual spells before, under the uncomfortable power of Ivy’s pollen. This was different, because nothing forced him to look at you, he simply wanted to. He wasn’t a shy man, never backing out of talking with a pretty lady, but tonight he decided to wait, wait for the right moment to reach you, to talk to you, to know your name. He didn’t want to intrude in your moment with your friends, but most importantly, he didn’t want your friends intruding in your moment.

So he waited, sat aside on a dark corner, like a villain in a scary movie, chatting bullshit with a friend he barely knew but who had insisted on him coming to his apartment tonight, as he knew Jason wouldn’t go anywhere else for New Year’s Eve, preferring to sulk in his own solitude for the night.

He didn’t expect anything from tonight, planning to go home after the clock striked 00:00 and the champagne bottles were popped. He certainly did not expect to meet a pretty girl that had him hooked on the first exchange of glances, but he was glad he took his time to come.

A few other girls had come to him, some showing their deep cleavages, others just trying to start a conversation, but they didn’t last long once they realized he only had his eyes out for you.

He noticed your group of friends leave the sofa, entering the kitchen in search of more drinks, but you stayed there, sitting in the same spot you’d been all night, watching your friends disappear into another room. Then, turning your head slowly, your eyes met his, and he took it as his key to finally approach you.

Throwing himself beside you on the sofa, his arm immediately went to its back and you leaned closer, trying to hear him better between all the screaming and the loud music.

“Jason.” he sort of screamed-whispered in your ear, extending his left hand for you to shake.

“Yn.” you took his hand in yours, shaking quickly before returning the hold to your cup.

“Stopped drinking tonight?” he asked, a playful smirk on his lips.

“What?!” you screamed, not hearing him clearly.

He came closer to you, the hand that shook yours coming to rest on your tight, and his lips brushing against your neck as he repeated himself into your ear. “I asked if you had stopped drinking tonight.”

“No!” you laughed. “They went looking for vodka, I guess. I’m sticking to champagne tonight.”

“Did you enjoy the bottle they were passing around?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Did you not like it?” you asked in return.

“It’s alright.” he shrugged, leaning back on the sofa and bringing his drink to his lips.

The music softened, a few complaints thrown around, the majority of the people taking this time to fish for more drinks in the kitchen or wherever they were.

Learning against the sofa too, head falling back to rest, your shoulder touched Jason’s and you could feel the electricity running through you.

“Mikey’s friend?” you asked him, trying to understand where this stranger had come from.

“Sorta.” he simply replied.

“Oh! We have ourselves a mysterious man.” you laughed again, and Jason hoped you wouldn’t stop.

“Do you like it? Or you prefer something more… nerdy? Or do you want me to act like a jock from a teen rom com. I can do it all, you know.” if possible, your laughing just got louder, throwing your head back and bringing the smirk back to Jason’s face.

“Nah. I love it.” you answered when your laughing stopped and your breathing had settled. “Makes me want to know more about you.”

The loud bang on a door broke brought your attention away, your friends making their way back to the sofa, full drinks in hand and a bottle of vodka being carried by one of them. Jason saw some eyebrow wiggles at you, teasing smiles and bumps on your shoulder, all of it making your cheeks flush pink and your eyes to divert to the almost empty cup on your hand.

He watched your thumb playing with the lipstick stained glass and your teeth nibble at your bottom lip. He admired your soft makeup, perfectly melting into your skin and not hiding your natural beauty he had come to love. A small stain of lipstick stood on your chin, maybe because of your drinking, and he couldn't hold the urge, his thumb cleaning it away for you.

“Two minutes till New Year’s!” someone announced over the music, the crowd getting excited, people looking for their friends or unopened champagne bottles.

“Do your friends have anyone to kiss at midnight?” Jason asked, and he caught a glimpse of disappointment in your eyes.

“I don’t know.” you replied, eyes wide in question. He only shook his head.

“Do you?”

“I don’t know.” you repeated your previous answers, earning a questioning look from him that made you laugh again a little. “Do I?”

“The thing is, Yn.” he started speaking and turned to face him properly, knees bumping into each other’s. He licked at his lips, and your mind replayed the way he had pronounced your name. He placed a loose strand of hair behind your ear and his fingertips touched your neck, a shiver emanating from there to your entire body. “I’m not a very patient guy. I don’t think I can wait until midnight.”

Leaning in, his lips caught yours as his hands held your waist. The butterflies partied in your stomach, and you leaned further into him, bringing his face closer as you felt his tongue slid inside your mouth.

“It’s not even fucking midnight, Yn!” someone screamed, the room turning to look at you both, but your mind too focused on the kiss to even notice.

His other hand went to your neck, playing with the hairs in there, making you moan into his mouth, the sound making him excited and more eager to continue kissing you.

At some point, happy new years were exchanged, champagne bottles were popped, other kisses were given along with tight hugs and laughter. Still, Jason’s lips were glued to yours, a perfect dance you did not want to stop.

Going into 2024 with your lips on his wasn’t on Jason New Year’s Eve plans, but he made sure to add them to his resolutions: to kiss you passionately, deeply, for as long as he can, for as long as his breathing allows him, for the entire year if you let him to, because he didn’t believe much in destiny but he was sure it wanted him there, on New Year’s day, sitting on a sofa beside the prettiest girl the room, her lips stuck on his, and a thousand possibilities to turn this moment into the first of many you’d share along 2024.

𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍

He heard wishes of “happy new year!” as the first fireworks exploded above the sea. Families, friends and couples erupting in joyful bursts of happiness and laughter, celebrating the beginning of the year with hope and excitement..

Dick wasn’t one of them. No, tonight wasn’t perfect. Not like it used to feel.

The arms wrapped tightly around his waist certainly didn’t feel perfect, and neither did the head resting on his chest. He watched the fireworks illuminating the night sky, reflecting on the water, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he wondered if you too were watching the scenery.

The guilt was eating at his chest, the words you’d told him earlier still lingering in his mind. There was a lump in his throat, he knew he’d screwed things up, that he ruined your favorite night of the year, your favorite holiday, and consequently, his too.

It hurt even more now that he recognized that you were not wrong, that you didn’t lie.

“How did you forget to tell me, Dick? Today is New Year’s Eve, we’ve always spent it together.” you reminded him, staring at him through the mirror he fixed his collar on. “Why are you like this, huh? Why do you never put me first, even for one day?” “It’s always like this. You find a new girl, you forget about me. Yn does not exist anymore, and if she does, she’s just your shadow, your umbrella holder while you cozy up to some slut you won’t care anymore in a few months.” “It’s not that important? Fuck you, Dick! Fuck you, fuck you! It was our day, our tradition, to watch the fireworks at the beach together, to make wishes to the stars and countless other traditions we’ve had since we were teenagers… You’ve continuously neglected what I want, put me aside to fulfill your wishes, and I’m always okay, because I fucking love you. But when it comes to me… Forget it. You just made me realize none of this is worth it.”

He still remembered the sound your voice made when you told him you loved him, how it cracked, how your chin trembled and your eyes filled with tears. He had put you aside for countless others when you’d always, always, stood by him. It was your tradition, and he had broken it.

Two hands slid up his chest, coming together behind his neck, forcing him to finally look down, after avoiding it’s presence for as long as he could. “Happy New Year, Dickie.” she said, plump lips painted red, reaching for his, reaching for a kiss, but he couldn’t do it.

No. It wasn’t perfect.

“I’m sorry.” he told the girl, removing her hands from his body. She looked at him confused, as he apologized once more.

Turning on his heel, feeling the sand underneath his feet, Dick ran. Ran somewhere he didn’t know to, somewhere he hoped he’d find you.

He screamed your name, praying you’d hear him and call him back, call his name as you always did when you met him in the crowd. A toothy smile on your lips that reached your eyes, a sight he never realized he loved, that he’d miss if you were gone, too dumb, too much of an idiot, to realize.

He counted all the things you could’ve done already, checking your list of nye’s traditions that never cease to surprise him. Every year you’d bring something new, something fun, and he would follow along and watching you complete each one of them made him happy.

But you always said it wasn’t perfect. That something was missing. Every year, there was this one thing you couldn’t complete but you never told him what it was.

“Yn.” he screamed to the crowd, gaining side looks from some of the people around.

“Dick.” someone called back, but it wasn’t you. “What are you doing?”

“Tim, have you seen Yn?” he asked, almost breathless.

“You didn’t come with her?” he asked in return, eyes jolting out, incredulous of the words leaving his brother's mouth. Dick could only shake his head. “Dude.” he finished disapprovingly.

Tim wasn’t much of a help, not knowing if you were still at the beach, but at least now he was sure you’d come.

Of course you would, he thought. You’d never break a tradition.

He was sure he’d crossed to the other end of the sandy and pretty crowded beach. This year many more people came to enjoy the best “secret” new year’s party in the city, a secret you’d kept for years but that was slowly becoming more popular.

You hate it. It was our place, I don’t want anyone else in it.

Letting out a chuckle, he remembered you pout as you let those words out. If only he had listened to them then.

He was almost giving up, the number of people diminishing with each step he took further in the sands. The groups fizzled out, just a few here and there now, long ignoring the still ongoing, god knows for how long, firework show, now too focused on drinks and gossip.

But then an oddity caught his eyes.

Someone alone, quietly watching the show of colors in the night. He had found you.

Even at a distance, he could see the colors reflecting in your eyes, watery and enamored as they were every year. You had your hands glued to your body, caressing the cold away as you dared to wear a sleeveless shirt this deep into winter.

He froze. The lump, the tightness in his throat, returning to torture him. He wanted to cry, get on his knees and beg you to forgive him. But he was too scared. Too scared you’d say no, because you should.

“Yn.” he whispered, hoping you wouldn’t hear.

You didn’t. You stayed in the same position, now staring at the moon as the fireworks had stopped, but he knew you’d love to stare at the moon even more.

Slowly, you stared at your feet, toes playing with the sand. Then, to his surprise, you looked to your side. You looked straight at him, he could swear your bore deep within his eyes, and all he could do was stare in return.

“D?” he saw you mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I’m so sorry.”

Your head dipped to the side, and he watched your chin shaking again. His heart started to break, but soon enough, you were running into his arms.

Dick didn’t know that all night, you’d hoped you hadn’t told him anything. That the “I love you” hadn’t slipped out of your mouth, preferring to never have him fully than to never have him at all.

Although your heart was broken, seeing him tonight meant your friendship was not. And you could settle for this. You cried in his chest, tears staining his dress shirt. “Please don’t cry, please, please. I’m so fucking stupid for hurting you.”

His hands held the back of your head, caressing your hairs as you recomposed yourself, He listened to your breathing become steady, your cheek resting on his chest, arms wrapped around his torso. Perfect.

“I’m sorry.” he said, and you looked up, your chin on his chest. His watery eyes still visible under the moonlight, you dried the tears from under his eyes. “I was stupid, a moron. I didn’t realize what I’d done. I didn’t realize you were the best thing to ever happen to me, and that I was pushing it all away.

“It’s okay,” you replied softly, snuggling back into his chest. “We’ll be alright.”

Breathing deeply, Dick held your face up to meet him again. “Yn…”

“Dick.” you cut him, wanting all this pain to just be over. He smiled at you, thumb drawing patterns on your cheek.

“Did you finish your list?” he inquired.

“No.”

Again, you didn’t. Dick never understood why. “You never told me what was missing.”

Staring deeply into his eyes, you found the courage to finally tell him. “A midnight kiss.”

It caught him by surprise, but it made him see everything clearly.

“Yn.” he called you, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips.

“Hmm.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, heart beating faster than it's ever done, not even the sprint on the beach making it go this quickly.

“It’s the thing I wanted.”

Pulling your face to his, you had to stand on your tiptoes to finally meet his lips. It was a slow kiss, lips melting together, fitting each other as if they were… perfect. Like you’d always dreamed of. It sets the butterflies in your stomach afire, your heart to stop beating, the world to stop spinning. You lost air, you lost your mind, you lost yourself within him.

You’d finally completed your list, you’d finally made your new year’s day perfect.

a/n: to all of you who made my 2023 very special, a happy new year and a blessed 2024 ♡

#dick grayson fluff #dick grayson angst #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x yn #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson blurb #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x yn #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagine #jason todd blurb #jason todd x y/n #jason todd #dick grayson #happy new year

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