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familyvideostevie · 1 month

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time you will not spend alone

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf, ellie cameo cause i can't do a damn thing without her, tommy gets some page time here too, smut (riding, unprotected p in v sex, some finger sucking lol), tenderness, gift giving | 5.7k a/n: i think this is the last part of the just and just as series for the foreseeable future. thank you for reading about this little au and these two lovebirds! i adore them. thank you @frannyzooey and @macfrog for your eyes and support on this. and thank you everyone else for being patient. <3

Spring sweeps into the valley seemingly overnight. The peaks remain snow-capped but the bare branches of trees between the evergreens begin to bud. Chilly mornings lose their bite and frost turns to dew and every day there is more light.

You've always thought Jackson looks its best in winter, but it's a damn sight to see as life and color return. And the latter is your favorite part -- the rolling hills outside the walls and the forest patrol paths are dotted and then overflowing with flowers.

It makes you feel more alive. Patrol isn't a freezing ordeal anymore -- it's an opportunity to see the remaining beauty in the world.

Today's shift is short and easy but you find yourself lingering, running your hands through pine needles and turning your face to the sun. Your horse is happy to munch on a patch of grass in a clearing just off the main trail, but your patrol partner is less than impressed.

"Are you serious?" Ellie moans. "You're stopping again? What the fuuuuuuuuck."

She sags in the saddle. The pout on her lips makes her look like a kid sent to bed without supper rather than an almost-twenty-year-old forced to spend some extra minutes in the fresh air. Shimmer has no problem chewing on some weeds despite her rider's moaning.

"Let me enjoy the sun," you say. "When you get older you'll appreciate the little things, too."

You hop off your horse and Ellie sighs loudly.

"Jesus, you're not that old," she mutters. "Seriously, what are you doing?"

You sweep your arms around you, gesturing at the meadow. "These flowers are nice," you tell her, pointedly. She adjusts the rifle slung over her shoulder. "I think I'm going to pick some and bring them home."

She snorts. "Oh, is Joel suddenly into flowers?"

You ignore her bait and crouch, gaze sweeping over the array of colors in front of you. You tried to learn the names of flowers years ago when you found a book on them in an old bookstore but they never stuck. Purples, pinks, and yellows, large petals and small ones, delicate yet hardy to survive the world past its end.

Joel isn't a fussy man. Young fathers don't get to be, and anyone alive these days sheds that impulse just as quickly. He's happy to wake up every day with you by his side, his kid in the garage out back and walls around everything he loves, keeping it all safe.

It makes it both easy and hard to please him -- you want to give him everything but he seems to want nothing. A perfect paradox, a puzzle to solve.

God, you love him. You love spring, you love Joel. Everything feels good.

So, you start to gather stems, snapping them at their bases, humming as you work.

"How do you choose which ones to pick?"

"Fuck," you gasp, careening forward onto one palm and looking over your shoulder. Ellie is off her horse and much closer than before, standing directly behind you. "Jesus, you're stealthy."

She shrugs, her smirk a pleased slash across her face. "You're oblivious as fuck."

You roll your eyes at her.

"Seriously," Ellie says, crossing her arms. She jerks her chin at the small bouquet you've got in one hand. "How do you make it look so nice?"

"Oh, so we've moved on from the making-fun-of-me part of this?"

She crouches next to you, elbows on her knees.

"I, uh -- " Her cheeks go pink, freckles standing out against her blush. "Dina likes flowers."

You bump her shoulder with yours. "I'm going to be so nice and not tease you."

"Fuck off," she scoffs, tucking her smile into her shoulder.

It's quick work. Ellie follows your lead, balances out the blooms she picks with some leafy weeds. She ties them together with one of the minimum four spare hairbands she has on her person at all times -- bits of cloth, occasionally a rare unused elastic from before if she's found some on patrol.

"Isn't it kinda shitty?" she muses, nimble fingers turning her bouquet this way and that to admire it. "We're killing them. The flowers, I mean."

"Little late to have a conscience about killing," you say lightly. The two rabbits she pulled from Jackson snares hang from her saddle. You've seen her in action, too -- gun raised, hands steady, blood splattered across her cheek. It's not an accusation, far from it. Violence is a language you both speak, one she's known for most of her still-short life.

She rolls her eyes, every bit a teenager. "Whatever."

You sigh. "You're right, though," you say. "There were whole shops dedicated to this before. Selling flowers, making bouquets and centerpieces and all that shit."

She probably knows this, but she lets you describe it. Ellie soaks up bits of the old world like it will materialize before her if she listens hard enough. Joel says it was much worse when she was younger, right after they settled into Jackson. She wanted details about everything and watched every movie she could get her hands on. You think she was satisfying her curiosity, sure, but also that she was trying to understand him better -- but didn't know how to say so.

"Weird," she mutters. "And you just...bought them for other people?"

"Or yourself." You pat her shoulder and stand. Your horse tries to nibble on your flowers before you haul yourself back in the saddle. "It was just a nice thing to do, I guess."

"Killing something to make someone else happy," Ellie says with a dry laugh. She tucks her bouquet in the crook of her arm once she's back in the saddle. "I guess everyone does that these days."

It's absurd when she puts it that way, but it's true. You've all got blood on your hands. You would kill for this girl, for Joel, for pretty much anyone in Jackson. And you have.

The flowers are for Joel, they're for your house, they're for you. Something beautiful to bring home alongside your dirt stains and scarred hands, your haunted eyes and nightmares. No one is spared those.

It's only mid-morning by the time you get back to the wall. You and Ellie left at dawn, short sticks drawn for the early shift. She leaves you in the stables with a mock salute and a shout of thanks, practically jogging to Dina's to give her the flowers.

You're untacking your horse when you hear familiar laughter, a deep chuckle and Ellie's faint indignant protest.

"Mornin'," Joel says from behind you. "Was hopin' to catch you at the gate."

"Can you hold these?"

You blindly extend the hand with the flowers. His fingers carefully extract the bouquet and you return to brushing out your horse.

"Does this have somethin' to do with Ellie runnin' out of her with flowers of her own?"

"Never let anyone say you're unobservant, Joel Miller."

He snickers. You leave your horse with a final pat on the neck and thanks for a job well done.

When you face Joel, he looks tired -- he's been pulling extra long days replacing windows and roof tiles after the winter's damage. God knows that man never seems fully rested, but it's a little worse when the seasons change.

He's told you time and time again that standing two stories off the ground is a hell of a lot safer than fighting some Infected on patrol, but you still worry. Just like you know he worries about you beyond the walls, how he's a little tenser whenever you're not in sight, whenever he hasn't seen Ellie for a few days ‘cause they're both busy. It's just how he loves. It's how you both love.

You make no move to take the flowers from him, instead brushing some sawdust from his shoulder.

"Did you have a job already?" you ask.

"Small one. Fixin' a crooked over mailbox." He looks pointedly at his full fist. "You gonna explain now?"

"They're for you."

Joel blinks once, twice, brows furrowing like you're speaking a different language. Maybe a few years ago you'd start to feel self-conscious, unsure of your romantic gesture and insecure in his reaction. But now, as fully in love and connected to this man as you are, you lean in.

"If you're too manly to carry flowers through town --"

You make to take them from him but he snaps out of his daze and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest in a smooth motion.

He also holds the bouquet in the air and out of reach.

"Hey, now," he says. "Hands off. These ain't your flowers."

"I picked 'em," you remind him, poking him in the ribs for good measure.

He flinches just a little but doesn't move. His embrace is warm and familiar and you sink into it. "Gettin' romantic," he mutters and brings the flowers back down to eye level to examine them.

"I'm just trying to catch up to you," you say into his jacket. He huffs and his palm rubs a slow line up and down your arm.

You wiggle out of his embrace to shoulder your pack.

"I am pretty romantic," he muses.

It's true. Even if he's joking and even if no one but you gets to see it, Joel has always made sure you feel loved. Courtship and romance look different these days, but it still comes naturally to him -- loving. Dinner dates, jewelry, and trips to the airport have become a battered paperback, a sharpened knife, and bloody knuckles, but it rings just as true. He loves you and he loves his family the best way he knows how – by keeping you all safe.

And you do your best to convey the same thing. You tell him, of course, but you also mend his shirts and chop wood when his back is acting up, and you look after his kid like she's your own.

Joel deserves to know that he can receive all that he gives, too – the protection, the tenderness, the beauty. Moments of softness and rest where he knows he’s taken care of, thought of, that he matters beyond the things he can do for everyone else.

So, you also do things like bring him flowers.

Sometimes you feel like it will never be enough. You will never have enough time to show him how much he means to you, how he's saved you, how important and cherished and loved he is. How good he is.

Joel reaches for your face with his free hand. He traces the line of your cheekbone with his thumb and smirks when you inhale sharply. Another patrol returns and the stables are suddenly louder and more crowded than before. If you're both free for the rest of the day, you want to drag him up to your bedroom and spend the hours there. You want to show him, for the millionth time, how much you love him.

"Okay, Mr. Pretty Romantic," you say, grabbing his hand and tangling your fingers together. "Let's go home."

___

Joel is hiding something from you.

The flowers last for a week and you watch him eye them and smile every time he enters the kitchen.

But after they droop and go in the compost pile, something shifts. Something subtle, sure, but you spend most of your waking hours looking for or at Joel, so you notice.

He starts keeping his workshop door closed. Normally you'll sit and watch him work, or he'll teach you a few chords here and there on the guitars he's making, but your lessons move to the porch and the upstairs hallway loses the scent of wood glue and stain.

In fact, he actively steers you away from the room altogether. He's all just needs a deep clean and it's messy, is all. It's not rocket science -- he's making something for you, clearly. But giving him a hard time is too fun to pass up.

One night, you and Ellie wait at the bottom of the stairs. There's a dinner and movie night in the old church and you're taking the opportunity to make it a family outing.

"You coming?" you holler up the stairs. You hear the door creak open.

"Gimme a second," he calls back down.

"Jesus," you mutter. You tap the side of Ellie’s sneaker with your boot. "You know anything about that?"

Honesty is important between all of you, but you know Joel and Ellie need to have their secrets. There is too much tangled history between them for you to understand it all. It's important to you that they have a relationship all their own, even if it means they scheme.

Ellie is examining her switchblade with intense focus. "I might," she says with a smirk. "He's a lovesick loser, I'll tell you that."

You lean on the banister and raise your eyebrows. "Do you remember when you asked me how to embroider so you could put Dina's name on her jacket?"

The knife swings closed with a snick and she rolls her eyes at you, cheeks pink.

"Shit, dude," she says. "Why do I tell you anything?"

"She liked the flowers, though, didn't she?"

Ellie crosses her arms and smiles at whatever memory she's seeing in her mind. "Yeah," she says. "She did. Jesse gave me so much shit, though --"

The door upstairs closes and Joel's heavy footfalls cut her off.

"Finally," you grumble. He trods down the stairs, arms half in his jacket when he catches sight of the two of you. "Are you hiding state secrets in there?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie asks.

"Might be," is all he says. He's got that twinkle in his eye that means mischief but he looks proud of himself. You can let him have this, whatever this is. You trust him and you'll find out eventually.

"Alright," you say, pushing off the banister and heading for the door. "You're going to breathe toxic fumes with the door closed."

"No, seriously," Ellie says. "What kind of secrets would a state be keeping?"

"Ain't nothin' toxic in there," he says lightly. He bumps Ellie's shoulder with his. "C'mon."

She throws her hands up in the air. "You know, it's shitty when you ignore me."

"Did you hear somethin'?" Joel says to you.

You shake your head, swallowing your laughter. "No," you say. "Nothing."

"Assholes." She pushes past you and down the steps onto the street. "I'm going to make sure there are no mashed potatoes left when you get there."

You don't mind letting Joel do whatever he's up to in all of his spare moments. It does mean you have more time to yourself, so you pick up some extra wall shifts.

And when one of those shifts is with Tommy? Well, you can't help but needle him a little bit about it all.

"Do you know what your brother is up to?" you ask him.

The wind today carries some lingering winter bite, so you've got the collar of your coat pulled up around your ears. Tommy’s hair whips around his face when he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Gonna have to be more specific," he says. "My brother is always up to some shit."

"I think he'd say the same thing about you."

Tommy laughs. He's got the reputation for being the more easy-going of the Millers, but you know he's more a match for Joel than most think. Out in the world, they work as one, silent and deadly, always in step when it counts. They still speak a language all their own with just a look and you see so much of them in each other when you pay attention.

"Well, I learned it all from him," he says. He adjusts his grip on the rifle and sighs. "I happen to know what you're talkin' 'bout, though."

"Is he just telling everyone but me?"

"Nah," Tommy scoffs. "Asked me and Ellie for help, s'all. And you know he tells that girl everythin'."

You both smile for a moment at your fondness for them.

Tommy clears his throat. "Does it bother you? Him keepin' a secret?"

You know Tommy won't let your answer get back to Joel. He's asking as your friend, as your kind-of brother. He's asking because he cares.

A patrol crests the hill, green flag waving in the air. They whistle and shout for the gate to be opened.

You step closer to Tommy so he can hear you. "No," you say. "I just like to gossip."

"Don't I know it," he chuckles. "You two are the eyes and ears of this damn town. Knowin' everything."

"Except what happens in my own home," you tease.

He shrugs. "You'll like it, if that helps," he adds.

"I know I will."

You look out at the world beyond the wall and smile to yourself.

Joel has made you a few things over the years. He works wonders with his hands all the time: Beautiful, intricate carvings for the house, for Ellie, for new babies in town. The wall of guitars, not to mention the ones he's made for kids to learn on in school. You're better at sewing than he is, but he's pretty damn good – fixing up pillowcases and blankets and clothes of all kinds. Joel is a craftsman.

Hands that hold you can also pull a trigger, punch until there's nothing left, and craft a work of art.

And he knows you. He pays attention -- there is a reason behind everything he does. If he's making you something, you know you'll love it.

"Strange, ain’t it?" Tommy says. You turn to him, a question on your face. "World ended and here we all are, happy. Makin' shit for each other. Gosspin'."

You sigh. “Took a lot to get here.”

“Damn right,” he says with a long whistle. “Lotta shit behind us.”

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask.

Tommy considers your words. You two talk plenty, but you’ve never really spoken about the past. Joel tells you whatever you want to hear about the years before you knew him, so you’ve got a pretty good picture of their lives after the outbreak.

"Can I tell you somethin’?” Tommy asks. You nod. "Alright. I – I never thought I'd see my brother this happy again. And I wish every damn day that Sarah was here to see it. To know him this way, to meet Maria. To know you and Ellie."

Joel has said the same thing before and it’s an honor greater than you can ever explain.

"When I saw him and that girl a few years ago, I thought --" Tommy clears his throat. "I thought maybe he’d made it through all the shit we did. And I was right. She brought him through it. And now he’s here, doin’ stable life shit we dreamed about before."

"Ellie is a force," you say, a little surprised to find your voice watery. The love between Ellie and Joel is fierce and powerful, evident to anyone who witnesses it. They would do anything for each other, even though they're mending.

"She is," he says. "And so are you.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know where I’m goin’ with this. Point is – seein' him love you, too, shows me he’s through it. He's alive again, you know? And I’d do all the shit we did over again just to get us all here. So, no. I don’t regret it."

It’s nothing you haven’t thought before, but the words work their way into your heart and sit there, heavy and warm.

“Damn,” you say. You swallow and give him a wide smile. "If you keep going, Tommy Miller, I will start crying and that would embarrass us both."

He laughs and blinks a few times. You join in, wiping your eyes.

"Alright, I won't," he says. "Jesus, all you did was ask what he's doin' in that workshop."

You clap him on the shoulder. "I won't tell anyone you started blubbering on duty."

He snorts. "Ain't that generous of you.”

Days pass. A week. You almost forget about Joel's project because he spends less and less time in the workshop and more on tasks around town as the days get longer. You're both busy -- chopping wood, planting bulbs for the fall, helping de-shed the horses. There's always work to be done.

After a particularly long day on your feet, you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find he's gotten home while you were in the shower.

"Hey, stranger," you say. You're mostly dry but some water drips down your back and you shiver. Joel is leaning against the headboard on top of the sheets without his shirt, reading whatever book he's onto now.

"Didn't hear me come in?" he asks. He sets his volume aside and pulls off his glasses.

"I was too busy coming back to life under some hot water." He probably heard you singing off-key to some long-lost song stuck in your head for the millionth time. "And you're quiet as hell, Joel."

He shrugs.

You just look at each other, the intimate gaze of two people who know every inch of each other and never tire of it.

The sleep pants he wears to bed this time of year are lightweight, thin enough that you can see the outline of him from here. His stomach is soft where he's bent at the waist and the trail of hair above his waistband is dark, darker than the rest of what's on his chest.

The golden expanse of his skin just begs to be touched, so you make your way over to him in your towel. He makes room for you to perch on the edge of the bed, the bare skin of your thigh pressing into his pants. His palm rests on your knee.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," you say softly. "’Cause of that damn thing you're working on."

His fingers press into your skin.

"Ain't patience a virtue, or something like that?"

"Whatever magic you're working better be worth waiting for," you tease.

Joel's hand resumes its path up your leg and he smirks.

"I can work some magic right now," he says.

You laugh, throwing your head back as his fingertips edge under the towel.

"That was awful," you say. "I should get dressed in all of my layers right now and go sleep on the couch."

You pull away from his touch so you can straddle him, your towel only held on by one hand at your breasts.

Joel snickers. "But then I wouldn't be able to do this."

Nimble fingers find your cunt between your spread legs and you gasp a laugh, one hand on his shoulder to balance you in his lap.

"Smooth," you manage. His other hand tugs on the towel and you release it, your slightly damp skin breaking out into goosebumps in the air of the bedroom.

Joel drags his lips between your breasts and you feel his smile.

"Christ," he says. "You comin' outta there in just a towel and you expect me to go to sleep?"

He pulls his fingers from you and frames your face with both hands to drag it down to his in a lazy, thorough kiss, like he's savoring each moment.

His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you let him in readily, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grind down on the hardness you can feel through his pants.

"I've missed you," you say, dragging your tongue along down his jaw. His fingertips press into your bare hips hard enough to bruise, but it's a grounding touch rather than an urgent one. You want to take your time because you have missed him, and you think he feels the same way.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Joel groans, dragging your lips back to his. "It'll be worth it."

You pull back to look him in the eyes. The hazel-grey is almost totally taken over by his pupil, but his gaze softens when you cup his cheek and smile.

"I know," you say, and mean it. Naked in his lap in your bedroom, you mean it. You always mean it. You always trust him.

Joel kisses you once, twice, and you pull on his lower lip with your teeth when he pulls away. His nostrils flare and before you can tug his cock from his pants, he holds two fingers out to you.

You laugh, circling his wrist and bringing the digits past your lips. You swirl your tongue around them and really take your time with it, laving at his knuckles before releasing them with a pop.

His cock twitches beneath you and he huffs.

"You're an easy man to please, Joel Miller," you tell him, tugging down his pants and letting his shaft spring free. You stroke him root to tip and he hisses.

"Nah," he manages. "It's ‘cause it's you."

He follows his words with a circle of your clit from his spit-slick fingers.

"See?" you gasp. "Romantic."

It's a bit crowded, his hand rubbing your clit and yours slowly jerking him, but neither of you rush it. You pant together, dotting lazy kisses on any piece of bare skin you can reach. You breathe him in, the combination of sweat and gun oil and fresh detergent that's just Joel. A rush of tenderness hits you so suddenly your nose stings.

"Joel," you say, a bit ragged. "Joel, can you --"

A gentle hand on your face brings your foreheads together, his eyes on yours.

"Whatever you want," he groans. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

You can't help it -- you laugh. Brightly and happily, almost in disbelief that this man is yours. Real and solid under you right now, beside you every night. Yours to love and cherish and all the rest.

"You laughin' at me?" he grumbles, though you can tell he's fighting a smile.

"I just love you, is all," you say. You probably don't say it enough. You and Joel show each other every day, so much so that you can't imagine he doesn't know. As it is, you feel loved by him with every move he makes, every time he looks in your direction, every time he says your name.

"And I want you to fuck me," you add.

It's Joel's turn to laugh.

"Now who's the romantic one?" he says.

You rise from his lap and settle onto your back on the other side of the bed, stretching with your hands above your head.

His eyes follow the line of your bare body, fondness and hunger recognizable in his gaze.

"Always so damn pretty," he grumbles. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"Flirt," you tease.

He rises to his knees and pumps his cock a few times with his fist. You spread your legs for him, knees bent up against your chest.

He settles between your knees and you lock them around his hips. Joel honest-to-god winks at you before dragging two fingers through your folds to make sure you're slick enough.

"Ready?"

You nod. He enters you in one practiced move and you groan in unison as you adjust. It takes some shuffling but he finds a position he can hold, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

Joel fucks you slow and deep. Each drag of his cock against your walls curls your toes and drags whines from both of your throats. He keeps up his usual babel -- doin' so good, feel like a dream, so damn tight, cunt's a fuckin' miracle -- and you press your hands into his bare back like he's a life raft.

Sweat beats on your brow, your chest, everywhere, and you suck bruises into his neck as his thrusts get a little frantic. Your own orgasm sneaks up on you, the pressure building and building and building until it snaps without warning.

"Joel -- Joel, fuck, I --"

You clench around him and he chants your name, that's it, baby, come on my cock, and buries himself to the hilt to finish inside you.

He hovers above you on trembling arms long enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips before rolling off of you.

"Now I'm ready for bed," you say, panting.

You fling a hand out lazily and it lands on his chest. He intertwines your fingers and his gaze finds yours. You smile as you get your breathing under control.

Joel smooths your brow with a thumb. "Don't forget to --"

"I know, I know," you say. "C'mon, you know this isn't my first rodeo." You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom.

"You sayin' I'm a bull?" Joel calls after you.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" you holler back, cleaning yourself up. "Didn't people used to say that?"

Joel doesn't answer you but you laugh at your own joke. You make your way back to the bed in old pyjamas and find him back in his sweatpants, feet flat on the floor like he's about to get up and go somewhere.

"Joel?"

He sighs, his shoulders moving up and down like he's bracing himself.

"It's done," he says. "Your surprise."

The confession stops you in your tracks.

"Oh?"

You know Joel better than mosty, but sometimes he's still a puzzle. The hesitation, the slight air of anxiety about him as he says it confuses you. Because Joel is good at taking care of people, and he has to know it -- those years he and Ellie didn't speak you know he left her things, know that he took care of her from afar as much as she would let him. It's just what he does, he uses his hands to beat and shoot and bloody – but also to carve and hold and love.

They're the same thing, really.

And he's made you something – one of countless gifts he's given you, tangible and not, throughout your relationship.

But he's nervous. As if you wouldn't love anything he made, anything he does. As if you're not gone over every part of him.

"Hm," he says. "Yeah. Let me --"

Joel gets up from the bed and pads over to the dresser to rummage around in a drawer. You meet him back on the bed and he's holding a square-ish parcel wrapped in cloth.

You gingerly take it from him.

"This is what you've been working on?" you ask softly. He nods.

You unwrap the cloth and find yourself holding leather-bound journal. The hide is smooth under your fingertips, scraped clean by hand and tanned a dark chestnut.The spine is about an inch wide, the whole thing swen together with neat stitches of what can only be catgut. A thinner strip of leather is wrapped around the cover and tucked into itself carefully. It must have taken him ages to make.

"Joel," you gasp. "It's...god, it's beautiful."

He tells you how he found it on patrol a few weeks ago. The cover was fucked but the paper was somehow fine, so he dried out the pages and rebound it with a hide he tanned himself. You run your hands over it again almost like you can feel his fingerprints all over it, the hours he poured into the pages.

The inside cover falls open easily when you undo the tie and you see letters in the bottom left corner of it. Your eyes sting.

Joel has carefully burned your name into the leather, each letter perfectly lined up with the next. You haven't had something with your name on it in years.

He clears his throat. "Ellie said she'd give you some of her pens. Show you how to refill 'em."

You look up from your gift and find so much love on his face you can hardly stand it. He was inside you not that long ago and somehow this is more intimate. You surge forward into his space and wrap an arm around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

"I don't know what to say," you confess. "Just -- thank you."

He runs his hand along your spine.

"S'nothin'," he says. "Just saw it and thought of you, is all."

You release him and shake your head in disbelief. This man.

"What should I write in it?"

Joel's cheeks darken a little. Of course he's thought of everything.

"Figured you could write about...all this." He waves a hand in the air like that explains anything.

"All what?"

He shrugs one bare shoulder.

"Life," he says. "Jackson. Folks here. Might be nice, havin' the memories."

You scoot closer to him so you're almost in his lap again.

"You want me to write down the gossip?" You mean it as a joke but Joel nods.

"You pay attention," he explains. "Someone's gotta."

You're not much of a writer anymore, haven't had cause to be in twenty years. But you do like to tell stories. You both do.

The pages are soft under your fingertips as you flip through them again. You're going to fill them with stories -- about this town, about Joel and Ellie and Tommy and the people you love. The people you've lost, too. The memories that hurt like bruises, like fresh wounds. But the good stuff, too. The gossip, the love stories, the plants in the yard and the flowers on the trails.

Joel has given you the ability to record your lives.

You reach over him to set the journal on the nightstand before you frame his face with both of your hands.

"I'm going to write pages and pages about you, Joel Miller," you whisper.

He huffs, cheeks warm under your palms. "That's borin'."

You shake your head and lean in until your lips brush and your eyes flutter shut.

"That's the story," you say. "That's my life. This is my life. You are."

“I love you,” he breathes. “So damn much. Y’know that?”

How could you not? You say so and kiss him firmly but without hurry. You’ve got lots of time. You’ve got forever.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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august126 · 7 months

Text

“I’m On The Phone!”

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*ੈ✩ summary:chad calls you while ethan is mid eating u out….BUT THAT BITCH DONT STOP

*ੈ✩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : ethan landry x reader

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Smut,Teasing,Oral Sex,Hair-pulling, and Phone Calls & Telephone

➽──────────────────────────────────────────❥

“Fuck- Ethan- ngh-“

You whined out, throwing your head back at the same time. He looked up at you, smiling as his fingers curled. Your eyes widened as your hand gently moved to tangle in his hair. You lightly tugged, letting out a soft moan from the curly haired boy.

“You’re so cute when you do that, you know?” He said, smiling as his fingers moved at a quicker pace. “Such a cutie…and absolutely stunning too.” He softly mumbled, staring at the faces you keep on making. You whimpered, whined, moaned, groaned, everything in the book. You were sent into such a pleasured daze until-

Your phone vibrates. You turn your head and see Chad’s contact on the phone. Ethan looked at you. “Go ahead, answer it.” He smiled and removed his fingers from you, a soft gasp coming from your mouth. You reached for your phone shakily, picking it up and answering it. You put it to your ear as Chad’s voice spoke. “Hey! Are you busy right now?” You looked down at Ethan before speaking. “No- no I’m not. Why, what’s up?”

“Well I was just wonder-“ You gasped softly, accidentally interrupting the boy on the phone. Ethan had stuck one of his fingers into you once again, smiling up at you. “Is- everything okay?” Chad asked, you made an ‘mhm’ sound. “Just- keep going!” You spoke hesitantly, throwing your head back as Ethan licked your clit. “Okay…I was just wondering if you’d like to hang out with me, Mindy, and Anika? I don’t wanna be all alone with the lovebirds.” He chuckled softly, you covered your mouth to hold in your moans as Ethan kept fingering you and teasing you with his tongue. “Yeah, that- that sounds fine.” You tugged on his hair a bit harder. A whimper escaped from his mouth, once again. “Alri- …is everything okay over there..?”

“Mhm! Yep- everything's fine!” You spoke out, your voice cracking slightly as you tried to hold in your moans. “Sorry- you just…I keep hearing like- whining noises? I don’t know what it is.” Chad kept speaking, you covered your mouth with your hand. “Okay well- I’m gonna go now. Let me know when you’re on your way, okay- oh and, bring Ethan too, would ya?”

“Yep- mhm- yeah- I will!” You said, faking a happy voice before quickly speaking again. “Okay- buh bye now!” Chad started to speak again before you abruptly hung up the phone. You tossed your phone to the side and plopped your back onto the bed as Ethan continued eating you out. Your thighs squeezed softly around his head as you whined.

“Fuck- I’m- ngh- I’m so- close-“ You moaned out, your grip on his hair only getting tighter and tighter as he continued. Ethan let out a soft whimper from in between your thighs and also being muffled from..you know..eating you out.

Your eyes widened as your back arched off the bed, a long whine coming from your mouth at the same time. “Fuck- I’m cumming- I’m fucking cumming-“ Your thighs squeezed tighter around his head, a soft moan coming from his mouth as you did this. After you reached your climax, your legs relaxed. Resting your legs on his shoulders, he looked up at you, breathing heavily.

Ethan smiled, getting up and leaning over you. “Did you have fun, sweetie?” You cupped his cheek, before smiling. “I was on the phone, you know.” He chuckled. “I know but- wasn’t it fu-“

“I was on. The. Phone.”

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry smut #scream 6 #ethan landry #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry is my new obsession thank you #scream vi smut #ethan landry x reader smut

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ghostofhyuck · 2 months

Text

NCT Dream proposing.

AN: This is long because I got carried away.

Mark Lee ; Composed a song for you.

I MEAN, what else will Mark do aside from composing a love song to his future wife??? He'll make sure that his song's message is clear that he's proposing to you and he wanted to have a future with you. He has the NCT members listen to the song, Mark gotta make sure that his message is there and although it is endearing, the members ARE TIRED, "Mark, it's great and cheesy, she will love it." they repeated numerous times. That's not enough, he'll drag them in his small scheme. He'll prepare a solo stage, rent a theater place where you thought you will be watching your favorite rom-com movie. But then Mark leaves suddenly when the movie is about to end. And then after the movie end, the lights turn off, and then the spotlight is on Mark, who's on the stage, holding a mic. He'll began singing it and you're just in daze there. Then the Dreamies will appear, giving you roses one by one, and Haechan guides you towards Mark. As soon as he finishes the song, he grabs the velvet box in his pocket and then proposes to you. Of course you said yes, almost teary-eyed, and the Dreamies will celebrate with you two!

Huang Renjun ; Over a vacation.

Renjun will prepare a three days and two nights out of the country trip with you. It's a once in a lifetime experience, and he made sure he'll choose the place that you've been wanting to go, he'll rent a hotel room from a luxurious resort and made the itinerary alone. He made sure that you don't have any worries aside from packing your stuff. When the vacation arrived, you two made the most out of it, like two lovebirds on their honeymoon. Renjun envisioned it and he feels giddy about proposing to you. Then on the last night of your stay, he'll bring you to an expensive restaurant, book a private room for the two of you. It was special, and you look gorgeous in your dress. At the end of the dinner, Renjun grabs your hands and he felt nervous, even stuttering through his words, and when he popped the question, you couldn't help but cry. Holding his hands endearingly and saying yes to him. When the two of you returned to Korea, both of you are wearing engagement rings.

Lee Jeno ; Privately, just the two of you.

Compared to the other members, I feel like Jeno's proposal to you is very simple. It'll be just the two of you, at your shared apartment. You just finished washing the dishes, and you two decided to stay at the kitchen, talking about the future. There's a few bottle of beers opened as you two talked about what you two envisioned about the future. It'll be in the most random moment, Jeno noticed you more than the usual, have you always been this beautiful? He would randomly brush his hands to your face, surprising you. In the moment of silence, Jeno asked if you want to get married, and you became quiet for a moment. "Right now?" you asked. "I mean, not right now, but maybe in a few months?" then Jeno proceeds to explain how you two have been live-in partners for years, so it felt natural to proceed to marriage. "Of course I would love to," you answered with glee. Wrapping your arms around him and giving him a kiss, in which he reciprocates.

Lee Donghyuck ; In front of your family.

Haechan's a family man, let's be real. He'll be the type who'll propose to you in front of your family. It'll be a small private dinner party. You were wondering why he decided to host a dinner party and Haechan lies to you, telling you that he just feels like hosting a dinner. So when the party arrives, his family and your family are there, since you and Haechan have been together for a long time, everyone's acquainted with each other. In the middle of the party, Haechan suddenly grabs everyone's attention, you thought that it'll be simple speech since he's the host but then he calls you and cluelessly you approached him, Haechan proceeds to thank you for being there for him, and all the cheesy words that he could say without stuttering. BUT THEN, he goes onto his knees, that's when you started to get nervous. Haechan grabs a velvet box from his slacks and then asked you, "Will you marry me?" and you were embarrassed for a moment because your family is there, but of course, you said yes to him. Everyone celebrated your engagement that night.

Na Jaemin ; Extravagant dinner date.

Jaemin will be the type to drop hints that something will happen. He brought you a gorgeous dress, gave you money to pamper yourself, and even told you to clear your Sunday night for a dinner. At first, you thought that it's just a normal dinner at an expensive dinner since Jaemin has brought you to those kind of dinners numerous times, but you couldn't help but still feel nervous about it. When Jaemin picked you up, he gave you a huge bouquet of roses which made you smile. You kept asking him what's the occasion but your boyfriend only gave you a smile. As you two reached the place, you found out that he rented a rooftop restaurant for just the two of you. From the top, you can see the whole view of Seoul. It was wonderful and the food was even more delicious. At the end of the dinner, Jaemin brings you to the edge of the balcony, there he confesses to you once again, telling you how much he loves you and he wanted to be with you forever. He grabs the velvet box from his suit and as he opens the box, fireworks went on display. Overwhelmed with the feeling, you cried as you said yes to Jaemin. He puts the ring on you, and you two shared a heartfelt kiss. "Oh by the way, the fireworks was just a coincidence," Jaemin said, making you laugh.

Zhong Chenle ; Where you two first met

Chenle would be a sentimental type of person. He wanted to make sure that you'll remember his proposal, so he brings you to the first place you two met. It's by a coffee shop. You were a customer and he was next to you, he rescued you when you realized that you forgot your wallet. You told him that you'll repay him, but Chenle was love-struck by you, and told you to repay him with a date instead. So when he asked you to meet him at the same coffee shop, you only smiled, remembering the first time you two met. As soon as you entered the place, you noticed the extravagant designs. It was empty. There were flowers and balloons around on display, and even the place was scattered with rose petals. From the back door, Chenle exits and approaches you. You were dumbfounded as your boyfriend started his speech, saying how this is the place where he met the love of his life, he thinks that the two of you fated for each other. He then goes onto his one knee, grabs the box from his pocket and asked you to marry him. You couldn't help but to hug him, making him lose balance. You showered him with kisses on his face before you said yes.

Park Jisung ; On the stage.

Jisung is a sneaky bastard with this one. Since you're a dancer, he wanted to do a collab stage with him. It was for his solo stage in Dreamies' concert. You two perfected the choreography which Jisung created. You thought that the routine is finished. Your moves were synchronized and your audience (Dreamies) can see the chemistry between the two of you. When the concert arrived, you were nervous but at the same time, was confident with your skills. One by one, Dreamies performed their solo stage, and when it was Jisung's turn, he assured you that everything's going to be fine. You two performed and the audience were in awe with your performance, they knew that you two are in a relationship but only did they realized that you two are meant for each other because of the performance. When the music stops, you two did your final pose where you two are standing in front of each other. He then smiles at you and then steps back, grabs something from his pocket and the only thing you can hear is the audience's scream. "Marry me?" Jisung whispered to you as he raised the ring so that you can see it, you hold back your tears but didn't hesitate to say yes to him. Everyone knew that you said yes when they saw Jisung's gummy smile as he puts the ring on your finger, and proceeds to hug you.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream reactions #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct mark #nct renjun #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct chenle #nct jisung

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arthenaa · 5 months

Text

blurred lines — mizu x f!reader

synopsis: your relationship with your roommate often threads the lines between friends and of something more.

content: fluff, suggestive themes, modern! au, roommate!mizu one jumping off a cliff joke mentioned, taigen, ringo, and akemi being great friends, mizu uses she/her pronouns, she/her pronouns for reader as well, mizu and you call each other bon/bonnie as an endearment, mizu is ur bf but not rlly your bf yk, mutual pining

song will be later mentioned in the story but listen to it while you're reading <3

It isn't to anyone's surprise that more often than not, people mistake you and Mizu as a couple. It's gotten bad to the point that it's already counted as an inside joke in your little group of five.

Taigen was the main culprit of the joke (as usual). He often lets his tongue run loose in the most random of situations. Whatever piques his interest, he always has something to say about it. You're not sure if it's because of Taigen's natural person magnet trait but surely, you think this is somehow his fault.

"I just want to say how adorable of a couple you two are!" A person from your year—someone you had met in passing during your Ethics class for sure—gushed as she sat down on the empty seat in front of you. You stare at her, mouth slightly agape in shock at the sudden intrusion, Akemi chortles from her seat while Mizu's starting to look like she's about to commit homicide. It was currently your free period, hoping for a time to relax and wait for your next class, you sure weren't expecting to be bombarded by a series of questions about your love life. You're hoping that both of your unwelcomed stares would drive this person away, but the gal continues off on a tangent. "Not to be like—a real gossipy person, but like, I heard from Sanchez that you guys were dating, and I had my suspicions back then during Ethics class but I just HAD to confirm it, y'know?"

You lock eyes with Akemi seated beside the girl as she hides her grin behind her drink. You're so going to wipe that smile off her face soon.

"I'm pretty sure that's none of your business," Mizu deadpans as she stares at her under her tinted glasses. She taps her index finger on the surface of the table, a telltale sign of her impatience. The girl remains oblivious.

"Oh, come on! We were groupmates last semester! I'm pretty sure we're already close enough to know stuff like this," She sends the both of you a wink to which you wince as Mizu stiffens beside you. You're sure it was taking a real toll on her to prevent her from committing a felony and so you've decided to step up.

"I-I'm sorry," You give her a sheepish smile, hand raised to provide a calm reassurance of not being hostile. "I'm sure you mean well and everything but we're really tired. Whatever you're thinking, it's a no."

You give her your best award-winning smile with the hopes that she'll leave you both alone. You see her slightly pull back, finally reading the room but she pauses at the last second as Mizu wraps an arm around your waist. You're not sure why the girl gives you a cheeky grin as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder but your resolve is soon starting to waver if she doesn't get her ass off your table.

"Alright, whatever you say," She coos, eyes squinting playfully as she gathers herself off your booth. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. See you around!"

The three of you watch as she makes her way out of the shop before your shoulders release the tension you've both been holding over the past few minutes. Akemi chuckles at your expressions

"Oh my god, If you hadn't done that I would've gone off the rails," Mizu groans as she rests her head on the table.

"You should've, to be honest, might make this whole debacle a lot more interesting than whatever you have with Y/N," Akemi snickers from her seat as Mizu sends her a glare. "Funniest thing I've seen all semester. Keep it up."

"You're full of shit," Mizu grumbles from her seat. Akemi flashes her her middle finger. You roll your eyes at their banter.

"I don't get what's the big deal," You cross your arms over your chest. "I mean people do the things me and Mizu do all the time."

Akemi gives you a blank stare. "I mean this in the best possible way but if I didn't love you and you said that to me, I would actually slap your face."

"I can slap your face for free, right now."

"Not now, Mizu," You nudged her knee in retaliation as the blue-eyed girl grumbled in response. "Also, bullshit. That's unfair."

Akemi rolls her eyes before slamming her drink down on the table. "That's unfair? You two are basically me and Taigen if Taigen grew the balls to actually court me instead of parading his biceps like a damn himbo. That honestly felt like I'd lost 20 years of my life. She's at your beck and call and even fucking ditches our hangouts just because you had a little cold. That's what's unfair."

You stare at her with furrowed eyebrows as she huffs and takes an angry sip of her drink. You slowly nod, trying to get a sense of her reasoning. Well, you and Mizu had developed a natural sense of service-giving to each other. After all, your deep friendship was only a resort of living together. Wouldn't anyone be that considerate to their best friends?

"I swear to God," Akemi places a hand in front of her mouth as she looks between the two of you. Mizu had already tuned her out, opting to hug you close by the waist and leaning her head on your shoulder as she took the time to rest. "I'm so close to throwing myself off the cliff figuratively and it's both of your fault."

You roll your eyes at her, crumpling a tissue paper before throwing it towards her. The gal dodges it with ease before scrunching her nose.

"You're overreacting."

"Sure," Akemi squints her eyes. "Whatever fits your story."

You're not sure when it started but somehow Akemi's words started to get to you. You knew, for sure, (you think?) that she was just bluffing. Your relationship with Mizu was yours and yours alone, anything between the two of you must be kept between the two of you only. It wasn't as if the comments of other people had affected you—you often tend to brush them off, treating some of them as either praises of your close bond or jokes due to their easygoing nature. You're not sure if it's because of Akemi's short-tempered personality that you've started to notice things too.

"Here," Mizu's voice startles you out of your focus. You turn your head to see the raven-haired gal, hair down and cozy in a black hoodie and sweatpants. You had been studying and getting things done at your uni's library as finals were nearing. The desk at your dorm and the familiarity of your room seemed to mess up with your productivity and so you decided to change venues. Mizu, being the good-hearted angel that she is, drops a cup of coffee beside you and a bag of your favorite food. She then tucks her hands into the pockets of her hoodie.

You look up at her with a pout, eyes softened. "You didn't have to."

Mizu pats your head before gingerly pulling the seat next to you. She sits down and leans her head on her arm perched on the table. "It's the least I could do. You're working hard."

You smile at her praise, glancing at the worksheets sprawled on your table. It wouldn't hurt to take a break, no?

Mizu gives you a raise of an eyebrow as you turn your body towards her, copying her form. Your lips pull into a small smile as you reach out to brush her loose locks. "It's way past your curfew. You should've just slept."

Mizu snorts. "You say that like I'm a child."

You reach out to pinch her cheek causing her to swat your hand away. Letting out a few giggles as she scrunches her nose at you. You would've continued to act normal afterward, there was nothing to freak out over but then Mizu started staring at you with that gaze of hers. Usually, you would either jokingly stare back or playfully ignore her but somehow this time, you're suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. You let out a cough as you turn back toward your worksheets, unable to handle the intensity of her gaze.

Not sure if she noticed it or what, you make quick haste to get back on track with your studying. About 15 minutes in, you hear shifting beside you. Thinking that it's her cue to go, you turn toward her with curiosity but then your chair moves swiftly to her side. You let out a yelp as she moves your chair with one arm, closer toward her.

"Mizu—!" You squeak at the sudden movement as she lets out a few chuckles at your reaction. Soon enough, a deep flush bursts across your cheeks due to the sudden proximity. She's faced toward you, legs spread to accommodate your figure, and her other arm perched on the back of your chair.

You feel your heart speed up as she leans close and smiles. "Get back to studying, Bonnie."

You obediently follow her orders as you lower your head to get back to answering the worksheets in front of you. You hear Mizu chuckle beside you as you willed yourself to continue writing and ignore her very existence.

Heart? Speed up? What the fuck?

There's a moment of reprieve before you feel the sudden thump of Mizu's head against your shoulder.

"What's up?" You hum gingerly, your free hand moving up to gently pet her head. Mizu shifts her body close, the arm at the back of your chair pulling your shoulder and body to her.

"Do you want Italian or Chinese?" She asks out of the blue, eyes watching you write down equations and numerical formulas on your paper. Your heart softens as you feel her other hand envelope over your stomach, pulling you into a side hug.

There weren't many people around the library at this time of the night besides the occasional suffering computer science major seated at the far end of the library and the librarian herself. Mizu allows herself to be vulnerable within your care. You eye your worksheets, debating finishing them or giving your cute roommate dozing off on your shoulder attention.

Nah, fuck it.

You gently close your notes before cupping Mizu's cheek, softly pulling her up from your shoulder.

"Hm?" Mizu hums as she slowly blinks at you, face leaning towards your touch as you cup her face gingerly within your palms. You give her a soft smile, thumbs running softly across her cheeks.

"Ordering takeout might be a bit too much right now," You quietly whisper to her, eyes crinkling playfully. She lets out a few chuckles at your response. "Although, I recall having a waffle mixture back at our dorm and we still have your dad's waffle maker. What do you say?"

Her gaze darts over you face before she pulls away from your touch. You look at her curious as she scoots to the edge of her seat before pulling you into a hug. The raven-haired girl burrows her face on your neck, letting a loud sigh of relief as she encased you in her arms.

"Alright," She mumbles on the collar of your shirt, breath tickling your neck. You flush at her proximity, opting to rest your head gently against hers. Just as the two of you would continue to bask in each other's presence, a cough alerts the two of you to pull away.

Your eyes dart toward the culprit as the librarian raises her eyebrow toward the both of you.

"You can take your couple date elsewhere if you both have nothing better to do here." The old lady deadpans, fanning herself with her foldable fan. The both of you stare as she gives you one last judgmental look before walking away. Mizu wordlessly helps you pack up your stuff, leaving the library with you trailing behind with your ears flushed red.

"Listen," Taigen takes a deep breath before continuing. "We're only choosing your dorm because Akemi has their annual dorm parties, Our kitchen broke so Ringo can't cook, and we know Mizu is a loaded motherfucker, alright? It's absolutely not because we want to see your icky mundane domestic life."

Mizu leans against the doorframe, staring Taigen down as he finishes his piece. You, on the other hand, can only smile from your spot behind Mizu. It had been your scheduled movie night with friends and originally, it was Ringo and Taigen's turn to host but due to unfortunate circumstances, the duty of hosting befell on your shoulders again. Albeit, a bit rushed this time.

Akemi rolls her eyes beside Taigen before stepping up towards the doorway and pushing her way through Mizu's defense (Mizu let her in, she didn't do anything wrong). Ringo smiles gleefully from his spot beside Taigen before sliding his way inside and pulling you in a hug (again, Mizu let him in, he's the only person who can actually cook).

"Y/N!" Your tall bubbly-bear looking friend cheers as he swings you back and forth in his hug. You giggle as you return the gesture, slightly pulling away and patting his cheeks. Ringo grins. "I missed you!"

You playfully roll your eyes at him. "Oh come on Ringo, I saw you last week."

"Too long!" Ringo whines as he rests his head on top of yours. Your heart warms at Ringo's affections. Your dear friend was a walking talking incarnation of a life-sized teddy bear. The two of you continue to giggle at each other's presence, not noticing the pair of blue eyes trained on you.

"Oi, Ring," Mizu calls out from her position by the doorway, eyes pulled into a glare. Ringo stiffens beside you at her tone. You could only blink your eyes at her with a curious gaze. "Get your ass in the kitchen."

"On it!" Ringo makes no haste and eventually bolts to your dorm's kitchen. You place your hand on your hips as you stare at her with a raised eyebrow. Mizu only looks away before catching a sneaking Taigen trying to move his way inside. The raven-haired girl slams her hand on the doorframe preventing Taigen from entering.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mizu asks with a threatening glare. Her eyes squint as you watch Taigen sweatdrop.

"C'mon, man! I just want to fucking watch Ryan Gosling, can you let me in?!" Taigen whines, stomping his foot. Mizu's face stays blank, hand clutching the doorframe. Taigen resorts to plan B and looks up at you from his spot with the most disturbing try of puppy eyes. "Y/N, please I'll treat you all the fucking bobas you want just please pull your war freak of a wife away from me."

You chuckle as he clasps his hands together, ignoring Mizu's pointed glare. You knew that Mizu would let him in either way. After all Mizu says, and you quote, "It's like leaving a fucking dog outside with all that yapping."

Finally deciding to help Taigen, your eyes gaze at Mizu's back with a smile. "Bon, c'mon leave him be."

There's a pause of silence before Mizu eases up on the doorway and eventually side steps. Taigen lets out a noise of victory before making quick steps toward you and places a kiss on the side of your temple.

"This is why you're my favorite," Taigen crinkles his eyes playfully. You roll your eyes, slapping his arm.

"You said that to Akemi 3 days ago."

"The past is past, what matters is the pre—"

A loud smack on the head propels Taigen forward causing your eyes to widen. You turn to Mizu who looks at him with disgust.

"I let you in and you still yap like a dog. Do you want me to kick you out again?" Mizu stands next to you with a menacing glare. You watch in amusement as Taigen frowns, rubbing the back of his head.

"Goddamn, just fucking marry this emotionally constipated motherfucker please so that I may find peace," Taigen makes a pointed look towards you. "I hate that I'm always at the receiving end of your punches when Y/N doesn't give you a bit of her atten—AGH!"

You let out a few giggles as you watched Mizu try and kick him away from where the two of you were standing. The poor man cowers behind Akemi who elbows him off her figure as she tries to browse through you and Mizu's shared Netflix account.

Your eyes glance toward Mizu who grumbles under her breath before turning towards you.

"Never let him in our dorm ever again please." Mizu deadpans prompting soft laughs from your lips. You then watch as Mizu walks toward you, eyes squinting at the side of your temple before grabbing your face with one hand—cheeks smushed.

"Mijuuuu," You whine as she tilts your head to the side. You notice her gaze on where Taigen kissed you. Your eyebrows furrowed as Mizu reached you with the sleeve of her hoodie pulled over her fingers. She then makes harsh wiping movements on your temple causing you to groan.

"Ow." You sob playfully as she finishes her ministrations. Mizu then turns your head towards her, the corners of her lips slightly upturned as she squishes your face within her grasp.

"Cute." She mumbles before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your forehead. Your heart thumps against your chest—eyes wide as a deep flush rises to your ears. Whether Mizu noticed it or not, she only pulled away and walked over to where Akemi and Taigen were—both too busy fighting each other for the remote (Akemi wants horror but Taigen insists on a Ryan Gosling marathon).

You stand still in the hallway, breath hitching as you try to calm yourself down.

Unfair.

There's a nagging thought at the back of your head that you think that you might've been a little bit too lenient with Mizu.

Your friendship and current situation as roommates didn't start off in a good footing. Having met Ringo and Mizu during freshman orientation, you had no choice but to stick close to them due to the unfamiliar environment. Ringo welcomed you with open arms while Mizu didn't care if you joined or not. Apparently, she didn't really care about Ringo or you.

It was safe to say that your first impression of your roommate with her ever-perpetual stone-cold glare had not been the best. After all, she had ignored you most of the time and tended to stray away from your group of three.

It was during that time that she had issues with her current roommate who always tried to bring people in as a one-night stand that the two of you decided on common ground.

You were out that night, going on a quick walk break from midterms when you saw Mizu complaining at the front desk. Still considering her your friend albeit a bit hesitant due to her off-putting nature, you hear Mizu complain to the landlord. You overheard her issues with her roommate and decided to offer your space up as your previous roommate had shifted courses, was transferred to a farther building, and therefore had to move to a closer dormitory. She seemed awkward but grateful enough to accept your offer.

Then things are where they are now. After knowing and living with each other for at least 2 years now, your closeness with Mizu didn't really bother you. It was nice being comfortable enough to just be authentic in front of somebody without the fear of getting judged. Mizu tends to be quite direct with her words and doesn't like to bluff around. That's what you kind of love and hate about her.

Love because she's upfront—what you see is what you get. She gives you thoughtful advice, the most rational between the two of you, mature and level headed enough to tell you the truth when nobody else would. Hate because sometimes she's too direct. Direct about your mistakes and wrongdoings but also direct about what she feels.

Like this instance.

"Mizu?" Your feet cladded socks thump loudly against the wooden floor, waddling your way toward your roommate who is busy mopping the living room.

"Yeah?" She calls out, hair tied in her usual bun as she continues to clean. She hears you enter the area, turning towards you with her hand outstretched. "Careful. Floor's wet."

"Yeah, yeah." You grab her hand, watching as she puts the mop away to the side. Finally having her undivided attention, you swing your hands back and forth as you come to say what you went for in the first place. "So y'know how Akemi got her internship at that company she really worked hard for?"

"Mmh."

"Then she was offered like a position right?"

"Mmh."

"So like, as a reward for her great performance, she got tickets for us to watch Laufey next week."

Mizu's eyebrows raised in recognition. "Really?"

You nod your head with enthusiasm, smile brimming from ear to ear. Mizu's eyes softened as she lets you continue.

"So I was wondering," You bite your bottom lip as your hand shifts to wrap around her index finger—still swaying it back and forth. "Can you help me find an outfit, please?"

Mizu hums as you peer at her with an excited grin. The raven-haired woman glances at her unfinished work before sighing.

"I suppose cleaning can wait." She responds before getting pulled in a hug.

"Thank you! Thank you!" You make careful tiptoes around her work as you walk back to your room.

It takes Mizu about 7 minutes to finally reach your room with a soft knock on your door. You tell her to come in as she gently opens the door to walk inside.

"Options?" Mizu sighs in relief as she plops down on the bed. You tell her your options and Mizu nods for you to try them on.

It takes a while for both of you to decide—eventually having to stick with two dresses. Finally trying the last dress on, you twirl in front of the mirror, examining the way you look before meeting Mizu's eyes on the reflection.

"That's the one," Mizu says with a soft tone. There's something about the way she eyes you up and down with a gentle look in her eyes paired with the soft tone of her deep voice. You pause, turning around to see her on the edge of your bed, arms resting on her knees—hands interlocked with her body leaned forward. Those hues of blue peer up at you with half-lidded eyes. Your cheeks heat up.

She breathes a heavy breath before motioning for you to come over with a come hither motion of her fingers. "C'mere."

You make slow steps toward her form, a couple of inches away from each other. You look down at her as she eyes you up, an unreadable look on her face before she suddenly stands up from her seat. Suddenly you're reminded of Mizu's height, albeit only a couple of inches taller than you, you still had to crane your neck at a distance as close as you were now. Suddenly the air seemed thick and constricting.

There's a sudden tension filling the air as the two of you only look into each other's eyes. You find yourself unable to blink as you admire her features. A mix of handsome and pretty—a face you've seen countless times and yet still be in awe of.

Just as the moment had started, Mizu suddenly ends it with a flick on your forehead causing you to blink.

"Hey!" You whine at the sudden gesture, hands reaching up to touch the spot she flicked at. Mizu smirks, chuckling.

"You blinked, I won."

You scoff at her. "Unfair."

She then fixes the fabric of your dress, making sure that the pleats and the flow is positioned nicely. Then the next few words stun you.

"You look really beautiful, Y/N." She says with such a genuine tone that it leaves you speechless. Seeing your reaction she lets out a few laughs then pinches your cheek. You let out a chuckle at the sound of her laughter.

"Favorite Laufey song?" You tilt your head in curiosity as you look up at her with a smile. Mizu softly blinks with a gentle smile.

"Serendipity."

Your hands slam against the wooden surface of the desk inside the library's discussion room. Three pairs of eyes—one filled with curiosity, one with indifference, and one with annoyance. You breathe heavily as you lock eyes with each one.

"I think I like Mizu."

Suddenly Taigen stands up from his seat and applauds you—Ringo, ever the sweetheart he is, smiles at you and waves his arms for a little celebration dance.

"Congratulations, Sherlock," Taigen smiles sarcastically. "If I had to watch the two of you in an eternal battle of who's the most oblivious, I would already have a degree in Bachelor of No Communication, Major in being a pussy and a minor in having mommy issues."

Akemi gives him a disgusted glare. "Can you shut the fuck up or is being a yapper your honest profession?"

"Alright," Taigen raises his hands. "Chill."

Akemi rolls her eyes before looking at you with her lips upturned. "Happy that you're finally realizing it, hun."

You groan as run your palms over your face. "That's the problem!"

"Why's that a problem?" Ringo asks innocently. You pull yours hands down with a huff.

"It's Mizu."

"So?" Akemi raises an eyebrow.

"Mizu's my best friend," You whine. "I can't risk it when I don't know if she feels the same."

"Be fucking for real right now." Akemi deadpans as she crosses her arms over her chest. "The damn woman looks at you as if you've just given her the stars and the moon. Y'know know how much I envy that?"

Taigen nudges Akemi beside him with a pout. Akemi glances at him with a sigh. "I was just making a point. You'd have to be dumb stupid to not notice anything at all, Y/N."

You purse your lips as you sheepishly look at Akemi like a child being punished.

"You did, didn't you?" Akemi squints her eyes with a smile. "Precisely why I favor you over that emotional catastrophe of a woman. I suggest taking the chance. It's not every day that you find someone that's a complete fit for you."

Akemi gives you a soft smile. You purse your lips as Taigen gives you a thumbs up.

"You can do it, Y/N." Ringo smiles at you from his seat. "If there's anything I know about Mizu, it's that she cares for you a lot more than you think."

You nod, encouraged by your friends' advice and reassurance. While Mizu's someone you didn't want to lose, you'd rather take the risk on giving her the love she deserves rather than keeping it buried within you.

Finally, your resolve is built and strengthened. It's just Mizu, it should be alright.

To put things simply, it had been 3 weeks since your talk with Taigen, Akemi, and Ringo.

The three have tried their very best to allow you to confess but somehow Mizu always has something to do or something keeps ruining the moment. Confessing in a cafe? Suddenly a random NPC interrupts. In the library? Librarian follows you everywhere with that judgmental gaze of hers after your previous altercation. Campus garden? Mizu's getting called for org duties. Your own dorm? Mizu's asleep.

You're at your wit's ends and while you can tell that all of this isnt intentionally done, you can still feel the frustration.

It's this night where you reach your final straw.

You had just gotten home after a day of requirements, finals, and activities. Mizu's schedule was moved a bit earlier causing the two of you to be quite busy due to the gap in the dates for your finals. When you're free, Mizu's taking an exam. When Mizu's got nothing to do, you're working your ass off in the library.

The finals season has completely ended and you're walking home with a fleeting mind and relieved sigh.

As you make the turn toward your dormitory, you notice a familiar head of black crouched over the sidewalk. Your eyebrows furrowed as you see Mizu busy with whatever caught her attention. Just as you reach at least a meter away from her, you see a fluffy white cat perk its head behind Mizu's figure, blue eyes sparkling with curiosity as it mews at your figure.

"Huh?" You hear Mizu hum before turning to face you. A look recognition passes her eyes. "Oh. You're home."

You fall silent as you continue to watch her pet the cat. You hear its purrs as it leans its head to Mizu's touch.

"I cooked hotpot upstairs," Mizu says, eyes still looking at you. Her hair is down, only pinned back by her glasses worn over her head. That little frail bang escapes with ease from it as she looks down to see the cat on its back, paws demanding a belly rub. She's wearing the black sweater you gave her with its sleeves rolled up to her arms.

Fuck. Why does she look so—

"I can tell you're spent," Mizu softly smiles at you. There's a slight breeze that gently ruffles her hair. "You did so well, Bonnie."

Then it's as if something snapped within you and there's nothing that could stop you from unleashing the pent up frustration of not getting a moment with her.

"Oh my god," Your gaze is unwavering as you stare at her figure. She raises an eyebrow at your response. "I'm so fucking in love with you."

Mizu stops her ministrations with the cat, figure tensing as the light breeze of the wind fills in the void. Your heart thumps as you breathe heavily, watching any sort of reaction for her shocked face.

Then it is as if you could hear a pin drop then a change in the atmosphere. Mizu is flushed deep red, eyes blinking as she stares at you with mouth agape.

Your eyebrows raise in amusement.

"Huh?"

"I love you." You repeat taking a step closer to her crouched form. She furrows her eyebrows, blush spreading up to her ears. Oh?

"I-I don't—"

You grin as you crouch in front of her, eyes trained on her shy features. "I said I love you."

"Y/N." Mizu grumbles as she tries to glare at you.

"What?" You shrug, smile brimming from ear to ear. The emotions on her face are clear as she stammers and stutters in front of you.

"That's not fair." She grits her teeth.

"What's not fair?" You tilt your head in amusement.

"I wanted to say it first." She mumbles as she looks down at the cat purring between the two of you.

You let out a soft laugh at her whining.

"Well, I'll pretend I didn't say anything and that I just walked back from school," Mizu eyes you in confusion as you stand back up and run a few meters away from her—back from where you previously stood. You clear your throat as you straightened yourself up. "Oh my god! Finals is so hard, if only there's a hot tall masculine woman to declare their love for me."

You end with a dramatic touch of the back of your hand against your forehead. Mizu chuckles, shaking her head before standing to her full height. She reaches you with ease, lips turned to a smile as her hands make their way to cup your face.

"You're an idiot," She grumbles with affection before pulling you in a kiss. There's no time wasted as you kiss back, clutching the fabric of her sweater as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss.

You squeak as you feel her tongue intertwine with yours. You feel yourself get lightheaded, melting in her touch as your arms wrap around her neck while hers takes hold of your waist. She pulls you closer with no distance left to break you apart. You whine as you feel her bite on your bottom lip, gently pulling it before pulling away. Heavy breaths are what fills the space between your bodies, eyes still trained on swollen red lips while want and need courses through your veins.

She lets out a grunt as she dives to taste more of you, pecking your lips once, twice—thrice before finally breaking off.

There's a moment of silence before hushed giggles errupted between the two of you—Mizu swaying your bodies as you both bask in each other's presence.

Hushed whispers, sweet nothings, wide smiles, and stolen kisses are all that's seen between two idiots in love. Before you can further enjoy your moment with Mizu, a loud meow interrupts your moment. The two of you look down at the cat licking its paw as it stares up at you both.

It swishes its tail back and forth, tilting its head before stretching. You and Mizu look at each other with a smile.

"You up for another roommate? Might be severely in love with you too." You tease as the cat leans its body against Mizu. Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. You giggle.

"Oh, shut up."

a/n:

you: *sees mizu w a cat* marry me

mizu: ?

projecting ken tendencies in taigen mb. akemi is a mood tbh.

#arthenaa #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #the blue eyed samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #Spotify

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mrsriddlenott · 9 months

Text

~ Caught ll ~

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader

masterlist

Warnings:Annoying Friends, Language, Drugs(barley), Smut(almost)

Ever since the boys found out about you and Mattheo it had become increasingly difficult to find alone time since the only one that actually respected your privacy was Enzo. When they first found out Mattheo thought it was perfect, he thought he’d get to take you on dates whenever he wanted, not just at night. And the first time the group crashed one of those dates he was happy to have them join while he got to show off your relationship.

But when it kept happening over and over he became more and more annoyed with their presence. Even when you’d sneak out of the castle to avoid them, the boys seemed to always find you. So it wasnt a surprise when Mattheo saw the group running towards the Black Lake behind your shoulder as he kissed it, “Oh come on!! Can you just give me some fucking time with my girlfriend please?!?!”

“Seriously? This is why you wanted to come here of all places,” Enzo shouted waving his hands in the air as he stood infront of the other three. Over the last few weeks he had desperately been trying to keep the boys from highjacking your dates but to no avail. “I am not about to be a part of this,” he scoffed as he stomped back up the grounds.

“Hellooo Lovebirds, wanna spark this with us?” Theo sang as he held a joint out above Mattheo’s narrowed eyes. “No, no I do not, if I wanted to I would have stayed in our dorm when you fucking rolled it.” Mattheo snapped, already standing and pulling you along with him before Theo could speak.

“Stay here, smoke your joint, and do not come to our dorm anytime soon.” He entangled his hand with yours as you made your way to the castle and down to the dungeons quickly.

You both were giggling and thanking Merlin you could finally be alone again as you slammed the dorm door open to Enzo’s shocked face, “I’ll….Imma….I’ll just give you two the rooooom…” He laughed as he stumbled and rushed from the dorm room. Mattheo immediately turned to put a locking charm on the door before he picked you up to chuck you on his bed, joining you and tugging the deep green curtains closed around you.

“Finally,” He huffed out as he kissed you aggressively and tugged your shirt off above your head, pushing you backwards, covering your body with his. “It has been way too long,” He growled into your neck as he bit and licked up to your jaw, taking your lips in his just as fists pounded on the door. A muttered charm with a click of the lock signaling it was now open.

“Are they fucking serious right now?” He groaned as he collapsed ontop of you. “This is really starting to piss me off.” He muttered moving off of you and grabbing your shirt for you. When you both looked past the hangings of Mattheo’s bed he rolled his eyes back toward you as Draco, Blaise, and Theo took seats around the room, passing their joint without a care in the world, “I think I might go to Azkaban if this keeps up.” Mattheo sighed as he tugged the curtains closed again, falling back onto the bed and pulling you to lay on top of his chest.

When your dates and rendezvous continued to repeatedly fail, Mattheo decided to revert back to his old methods and soon you were being grabbed by the wrist and tugged into an empty classroom with zero warning just like old times. He was almost immediately picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist as you draped your arms around his neck. He kissed you all over as though he was starved while he carried you towards the teachers desk.

“I think we both agree we can just get started right Princess?” he laughed as he roughly placed you onto the desk, throwing papers to the floor and pushing himself between your legs. He moved to hike up your skirt as you unfastened his belt, letting you see how incredibly hard he was from the weeks of waiting to have you.

Mattheo kissed up and down your neck as he moved your underwear to the side while you began pulling him from his boxers and palming him lightly. He moaned louder than usual before smashing his lips into yours as he hastily lined himself up at your entrance beginning to push himself inside of you as the the classroom door was opened to laughs and high pitched mocks of “Princess,” from your friends.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Mattheo groaned with a deep sigh and closed eyes as he slammed his hand onto the desk beside your thigh, “Why the fuck are you guys even here,” He snapped, putting himself, still rock hard, back into his boxers and smoothing out your skirt to make sure you were decent.

“You’re hogging y/n, we barely get to see our best friend anymore,” Theo grumbled sitting in a chair as Mattheo gave him a fake, mocking sympathetic look before Blaise pulled himself up to sit on the desk next to you.

“Oh great just make yourselves comfortable,” Mattheo said with a roll of his eyes, gripping your thighs tightly and gritting his teeth, “not like we were busy with anything,”

“y/n Love, you want us hang out with you don’t you?” Draco asked with a joking pout as he leaned onto the desk beside you, “I know you miss us,” To be honest you did not miss them, there was no way you could, they gave you zero chance to anymore and at this point you were just desperate to be alone with Mattheo.

“How could I when you can’t ever seem to leave us alone” You snapped, looking up to him with a fake smile, “Ooohoohoo, someones sassy today,” Draco and the other boys laughter that filled the room only annoyed you further. “No Malfoy I’m pissed,” You rolled your eyes and took Mattheo’s hand as you hopped off the desk to leave the classroom, throwing your friends the middle finger before slamming the door shut.

“Let’s try my dorm again hm?” You smiled over your shoulder as you led Mattheo to the dungeons with your hand still in his.

“Merlin Princess, you have no idea how hot that was.” He chuckled as you tugged him into your dorm letting him kick the door shut behind you. “Oh really?” You chuckled as you turned back to him, his eyes roaming over your body as his fingers played with his lips, mumbling a very distracted “mhmm”, making you giggle. His eyes widened as he noticed you stepping closer to him, meeting your eyes as you grabbed his belt with a light tug towards your bed. He smirked down at you as he let you guide him, turning as you walked before you shoved him down onto your bed with force.

Mattheo smiled and chuckled happily as he let his head fall back while you crawled over him slowly. It wasn’t often that Mattheo gave over control, but when he did he absolutely loved it. You let your lips slowly trail over every exposed section of his body before finally reaching his lips and straddling his waist as you kissed him deeply. His hands immediately found your hips, tugging you forward on his still hard dick, the friction pulling a desperate moan from the both of you.

You trailed your lips back down his neck as your body moved lower, unbuttoning his shirt slowly and kissing each newly exposed section until your lips met his v-line. “Don’t be a tease Princess,” he sighed as he positioned himself on his elbows to watch your actions.

As you unbuckled his belt and trailed your tongue across the exposed skin above it your door swung open making Mattheo flop back onto your bed with a desperate groan close to a whine. For a second he only stared up at the ceiling, breathing slowly as the three boys made themselves at home around your dorm.

“Y’know what I don’t fucking care anymore,” he sighed as he sat up to grip your waist, pushing the both of you off the bed and tugging you towards your bathroom, “if you don’t wanna give us any privacy than you can just listen to me fuck her if thats what you really want.”

He lightly shoved you forwards through the door of your bathroom before slamming it behind you, turning to mutter a locking charm before looking at you with angry, hungry eyes.

~~~~

Caught III

Caught IV

Caught V

Caught VI

#Mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x fem!reader #harry potter #harry potter smut #smut #secret relationship #yn #x reader #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore nott #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo riddle fluff #fluff #harry potter fluff

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ghost-proofbaby · 11 months

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR NINETEEN

in which everything changes.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut (p in v), almost shower sex, talk of male masturbation, oral (f receiving), upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7.7k+

→ a/n: big shout out to @myosotisa for beta-reading this chapter so that for once, it's not unedited, and it's not just between me and god.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

19:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00

DINGUS: so either these two are getting along REALLY well or they truly still hate each other’s guts

NANCE: Why do you say that?

DINGUS: when i called to make sure they weren’t dead, it sounded like they were arguing over the line.

BIRDIE: woah woah woah, hold on. dingus. are you telling me you just SPIED on the lovebirds? or did this ‘fight’ happen during your conversation?

DINGUS: it wasn’t spying! eddie answered and rushed off the line, but it sounded like he forgot to hang up. i was just… curious.

NANCE: No, you were SPYING on them.

ARGYLE 😎: what did they say, dude?

BIRDIE: yeah let’s drop the morality bullshit – what’d you hear, my lovely oblivious spy?

DINGUS: @BIRDIE NOT A SPY.

DINGUS: but it just sounded like eddie asking her if she was, and i quote, “fucking kidding him”. He sounded weird when he was talking to me, too.

BIRDIE: the most romantic words to ever be spoken. truly.

NANCE: Was that all you heard?

DINGUS: yeah, i hung up after that. why?

ARGYLE 😎: should’ve stayed on the line.

BIRDIE: what he said.

JOHNNY BOY: Do you people have no morals?

HOUR NINETEEN – 10:00 AM

It becomes glaringly obvious to you that your comment had been a little too spot on after several minutes of waiting for Eddie to return.

You hadn’t expected him to really leave you high and dry after that, to just go and take care of himself rather than include you in that process. Honestly, you thought the two of you were finally past hiding behind closed doors. But clearly, you had been wrong. Very, very wrong. And now, the consequences of your own actions were mocking you; there was an insistent, uncomfortable, unignorable burn in the pit of your stomach, and every shift of your thighs that had your underwear grazing your clit had you desperate, nearly mewling and arching your back. The longer you laid on that couch and realized what Eddie was currently doing, the more hot and bothered you grew.

Fuck him. You’re about ten seconds away from taking care of your own problem right here, right now, on this god forsaken couch.

Your ears perk involuntarily for any and all noises that may come from the hallway, but five minutes of silence tells you that Eddie had learned his lesson. He wasn’t going to be loud again.

Fuck him.

At least if he was falling apart by his own hand, he should have the decency to let you hear such, obviously. If he was going to finish what the two of you started alone with just him and his hand and the polished porcelain of his bathroom, you would have at least appreciated something to get you going, to urge your imagination to roam free through a conglomeration of both fantasies and memories. But, no – the man was so silent, you were beginning to fear he might be dead.

Maybe he was dead. Death by blue balls. Good. Fuck him.

Your thighs squeeze together once more of their own free will, and you throw your head back violently to groan at the persistent throbbing. You couldn’t even be angry at him, not in a genuine sense, because you had insisted on talking rather than continuing whatever Deftones had started. What a dumb, idiotic, catastrophic decision. What a painful hill to die on. What a shit move on your part.

It doesn’t take long before you make the choice to stop laying there, wallowing in your misery. If you weren’t going to take care of your problem, and if you were regretting your choices so desperately, you were an adult. He was down the hall, he was here for now, and there was nothing stopping you from just marching up to the door. This wasn’t anything like the beginning hours – the man had seen you bare before him far too many times for you to be shy. He had just been dry humping you like some teenager on his couch.

No, you didn’t need to have shame right now. At least, not for these last five hours.

You get up quick enough to make yourself dizzy, swinging your legs and making the soles of your feet connect with the living room floor with resounding slaps. A bit aggressive, and it might startle whoever had the displeasure of living below Eddie, but you don’t care. You have a one track mind, and you force your body into action before you can chicken out.

You have him. At some wild capacity, the man behind the bathroom door is yours. Whether it be temporary, whether it had started before this night or would last beyond this experience, it was still a matter of fact. You have him – God, you have him so tightly that you don’t even doubt you’re the one on his mind right now as he does what you’re sure he’s doing behind this door – and it was time to accept that he has you.

He has had you for a while, you realize a few steps away from the bathroom. The moment he had you laughing at his side in some smokey bar all those moons ago, he had first caught you in his web. You hate that it took this long, that it took this moment that should be laced with embarrassment, to let it all settle into acceptance. Like rubble of a destroyed building, the dust is clearing and all you can see is him. Him, with his stupid fucking dimples. Him, with his wide shoulders. Him, with all his twisted words and confusing actions. He’s had you in his grasp – it’s the only way anyone would have been able to get under your skin like he has this past year.

“Eddie?” you call out as you rap your knuckles on that wooden door, a few too many times for good measure. Your ears strain now that you’re closer, thinking you might catch subtle sounds out of him. Heavy breaths, slick skin, mute whimpers. Anything.

You get nothing for a solid ten seconds.

And then, you hear him clearing his throat, obnoxiously so, before answering, “Y-Yeah?”

Unsure. He’s stuttering, and the footing of his words is unstable. You were fucking right.

“Are you…” you start, pinching your eyes shut, shooing away that internal wave of heat as your mind runs wild and imagines him behind the door. The way he’d be naked, the way his fist would curl around the base of his cock, the way his tip has never failed to be the exact same shade of pink as his lips- “Are you still alive in there?”

Because I’m certainly not out here.

“Oh, me?” he chuckles nervously, “Yeah, I-I’m good. Sorry, just got distracted!”

By what? you nearly call in response, your dick in your hands?

You don’t say it outloud. You have some restraint.

“That’s fine…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you should say all while biting your tongue.

Your mind is still reeling for a possible ending for that thought when Eddie calls out, “I’m gonna take a shower, ‘s all. You cool with that?”

No. No, I’m not fucking cool with that.

“Oh!” you squeak out instead, “Yeah, yeah. That’s… that’s fine. Sorry, I’ll just…”

You trail off again as you begin to take a few steps back from the door, making your way back to the living room painstakingly slowly. You’ve hardly moved an inch when you hear the shower turn on inside the bathroom, stuttering a few times as the water begins its flow, static rising from the way it splatters into the tub.

And then it turns off. Mere seconds later, as quickly as the flow of water had begun, the creaking in the pipes cease. You take another step back until your back bumps into the wall of the hallway, across and veered away from the bathroom door – the throbbing between your thighs still irritating and your confusion even more palpable.

Wasn’t he going to take a shower? Did he just turn it on to get you to walk away? Were you hallucinating just how quickly the seconds were passin-

The bathroom door is suddenly thrown open with Eddie in the middle of calling out your name, those pajama pants hanging dangerously low on his hips. The moment his eyes land on your, his beckoning for you dies in his throat before he has to clear it. “Oh. Uh, hey.”

Why were you both being so fucking awkward?

“Hi,” you breathe out, pressing further into the wall. You felt like a child being caught doing wrong, as if he hadn’t been aware of your proximity to the door just moments before.

Maybe he was going to find it creepy that you had lingered for so long, and were still so close. You don’t know – you can’t think clearly as you look at the bare skin of his chest and try to decipher whether the moisture gathered there is sweat or condensation from the steam of the shower.

“Sorry, I just-” he cuts himself off this time before a hand reaches up to his hair, now down and unfurled around his shoulders. His palm presses back his bangs and you can see the moment that all the tension of awkwardness finally snaps, “Oh, fuck this. Do you want to shower with me?”

Once it snaps for him, you feel your own clinging to it release. It slips from between your fingers slowly, and you come to the realization that there’s no heat emitting from the bathroom behind him – that moisture wasn’t from steam, he didn’t even have the water on long enough for it to get that hot. You should have realized that immediately, but your mind was working slowly through the fog.

“You don’t have to,” you hadn’t answered him fast enough, and you’re watching him backpedal right before your eyes.

A quick shake of your head and the smile that splits your lips stops all of his backwards movements, makes his head tilt to the side and a smirk graces his features when you finally reply, “I thought you’d never ask.”

He shifts to the side of the doorway naturally, leaving just enough room for you to brush past him and let your shoulder knock slightly against his chest once you push off the wall eagerly.

There’s still a puddle of water at the base of the tub, circling the drain as Eddie closes the door behind your entrance. It’s a bit redundant considering you’re the only two here, but you don’t say a word. You just let your eyes trace over the droplets of water racing down his shower curtain, properly focus in on his toothbrush on the sink and the tube of toothpaste beside it curled up over half the length.

It hits you all at once, how this game of tension is so ridiculous. “We’re so stupid.”

Eddie is shocked by your snort, “Excuse me?”

“We’re stupid,” you repeat yourself, “Why are we acting like middle schoolers who just held hands? You’ve seen me naked, for fucks sake. We’ve-” you cut off and turn to him abruptly, waving your hands wildly in the space between you two, “We’ve already crossed this line a million times, Eddie. And we just… it’s like, we keep putting one foot on the other side of it, dip our toes into it, and then take it back when it’s all said and done.”

A boring dance. The two of you were taking part in the most boring dance of tension the world had ever seen, and only the four walls of Eddie’s apartment had the pleasure of being audience to it.

You expect his laughter to come out in a bark, but it’s subtle instead, face relaxing in realization at what you mean, “Jesus. I- I mean, you’re right. But does that make us stupid? I think it’s kinda cute, personally.”

“Cute?” you lurch forward ever so slightly, grinning with your teeth. Eddie’s eyes squint up a bit from how widely he grins in return at your amusement, “What about this is cute?”

“The way you keep getting so nervous around me,” Eddie shrugs, killing off the distance between you as he moves in front of you. You straighten up quickly, and he’s fast to tuck the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “The way I keep getting so nervous around you.”

“That’s not cute, that’s just… stupid.”

“Same thing.”

“It definitely isn’t.”

You’re close enough to kiss him. And you realize easily that this may be your favorite place in the world, toe-to-toe with him and nearly brushing noses, feeling each breath like a huff of wind on the highs of your cheekbones.

“Agree to disagree,” he whispers before his lips duck down to yours. The hand that had tucked away your strands of hair had never left your face, you realize, palm now cupping your cheek as he tugs you closer to him.

Warmth spreads across your chest, brings spring to all the vines you’ve been catering to for a year now. Being able to step back and call this for what it was, ridiculous, makes it all a bit easier to bear.

It’s just his lips against yours, the shower not even running yet, the gasps that emit from both of you serving as a white noise instead.

“Is this,” he breaks away from you, only pulling back his lips and leaving his forehead resting against yours with his hand still curled on your cheek, “still stupid?”

“Even more so,” you nod and he moves his head with yours, almost making you laugh more, “So, so stupid.”

More kisses are exchanged, wandering hands trying to find new curves on the other’s body, before Eddie goes through the motions of turning his shower back on. You notice that from the looks of it, he does turn it on as hot as it can get. It occurs to you that these are small details you’d like to know – how hot he prefers his showers, whether he prefers to take them in the morning or at night, what scent of body wash he swears by – and that you only had so much time to learn the answer to not even half of your curiosities.

Time. Time was not on your side.

“You know,” you drawl as Eddie finally kicks off his pants, you soon following his lead as if this was nothing. Because it wasn’t. The two of you had been naked before each other. You weren’t two middle schoolers who had just shared a first kiss or held hands – you were two adults who had had sex, who had admitted to being attracted to each other if nothing more, “You never did say what you’re actually doing with the money.”

“Again with that conversation?” Eddie asks, pausing with his thumbs hooked in the band of his boxers.

“Again,” you affirm, tossing your shirt into the same corner that his pants had been discarded, “Can you blame me for being curious? Aren’t you curious what I’m doing with my money?”

He thinks for a second as you strip off your underwear, leaving you completely naked first. “I mean, I sort of am.”

“College,” you supply easily. You don’t even wait for him to properly ask. He purses his lips and you catch the way his eyes sweep over your nude body quickly before he yanks off his last article of clothing, “College, and then all my debt. Then maybe I can start saving like a real adult. Move to some fancy city once I graduate. Make a…” you pause and make a conscious effort to not let your eyes wander as his had, “Make a real life for myself, I guess.”

“You sound so excited.”

He’s being sarcastic, you know it, but it begs the question – were you excited about the prospective? All you had ever known was school. Your entire personality has been built thus far on being a student.

So what comes next? Settling into some boring nine to five job that hardly satisfies the dreams that were born of your major? Getting underpaid, getting bored with monotony but telling yourself you were satisfied?

And that doesn’t even scratch the surface of the bigger questions of the future. You haven’t even spared a thought to kids, to getting married, to life past the next two years.

“I mean… I am,” you shrug and step into the shower first, Eddie following close behind you and listening intently, “It’ll be nice to finally have the damn piece of paper to say ‘hey! I did it!’”

“But?” he presses, scooting the two of you around in the small space so that he was standing directly beneath the spray of water. His curls flatten against his head immediately.

“No buts,” you insist. As if you’re trying to convince yourself more of it than him.

“So that’s all? You just want to get out of here?” he isn’t looking at you as he reaches for a bottle of shampoo, blinking water out of his eyes.

This conversation is going surprisingly well.

“Not here specifically,” you clarify. Your chest aches at the thought of just leaving behind all the friends you’d made, the life you had started in this city. The thought of already beginning to preemptively tear it down was enough to dampen your mood worse than the steam of the shower was doing to your hair, “I don’t know. Who cares about the future? What are you doing with your money?”

He’s about to squirt some of the shampoo into the palm of his hand when you suddenly snatch it from him, holding up a finger and twirling it in a demanding manner. He’s shocked, but he turns for you regardless, even bending his knees as he gets the message.

He doesn’t question the fact that you’re about to wash his hair. No protests towards something so domestic between previously sworn enemies.

“I wasn’t lying earlier,” he starts just as you have lathered up your palms and set aside the shampoo on the shower ledge, fingertips digging right into his scalp. Even with the slight bend in his posture, your arms have to stretch to reach the crown of his head, “A new bike or guitar would be nice but– Oh,” a particular scratch of your nails has him faltering in his words, throwing his head back a bit more and humming. The throb, the ache, the burn returns. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“Keep talking, pretty boy,” you murmur as he hums even louder.

“Well, I… It’s not a lot of money, y’know? I mean, it is. But it also isn’t. Am I making any sense? Fuck, that feels good,” he stumbles across his point as your fingers continue small circles, and you already know without looking that his eyes have fluttered shut.

The pit of your stomach can only rally, twisting and tumbling at his satisfaction. Something so domestic and something you had started with sweet intentions was quickly derailing, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

You have him. But you don’t have him. The same type of conundrum he faces with the amount of money promised to the both of you if you were to survive these hours.

“You’re making sense,” you promise with a shy grin you know he can’t see, “Like, I know the money won’t pay off all my debts or college tuition, but it’s a good start. Anyways, as you were saying?”

Both of you struggle to focus as he continues on, melting even further into your touch, “I dunno. Maybe if I have anything leftover, I’ll send it to my uncle.”

His voice is strained as he’s occupied with the feeling of your hands against his scalp, and you know it’s a throwaway sentence, but the small detail of his life you’ve been awarded doesn’t go unnoticed.

Uncle? Why uncle?

“You in debt to your uncle over a bad night of gambling or somethin’?” you try to joke as you finally release your fingertips from his scalp. Your palms come down on his shoulders as you spin him slowly, encouraging him to keep his head tipped back as he lets the water wash away the suds produced.

Surprisingly, his shampoo doesn’t smell like boy. It’s akin to green apples, maybe something smoother beneath it all like coconut. Something sweet and something innocent.

Maybe that’s what has him being so open to you as he explains, “I’ll always be in debt to him, but not for gambling. He raised me. My folks… weren’t the best. I owe everything to that man.”

There are no good words to respond with. You suddenly feel selfish for pushing him to admit it, and for making that joke to begin with.

But he only cracks open his eyes as the suds are mostly gone, looking at you through squinty eyes as he grins, “Guess I’m the boner killer now, huh?”

You snort again (fuck, had he always been this funny?) and shake your head, finally glimpsing below his hips.

Ironic of him to say that he was a boner killer when there he was, harder than ever for you, tip pink and glistening in a taunt towards you.

You were both going to Hell. You were standing in his shower, talking about his uncle, both far too horny for the topic of conversation.

“Modern day Bonnie and Clyde, but make it horny,” you manage to get out, still staring at him and resisting the urge to reach out and start something you didn’t know how to finish, “Does talking about money always get you this hard?”

“Bonnie and Clyde were robbers, not killers,” he corrects you, “And why, yes. How did you know? Do you plan to use this lethal information against me again later?”

A cavern in your chest screams out, when is later? Later within the next four hours, or later within the next year? Will you ever even give me a chance to use this against you again?

You laugh along with his joke instead.

“Absolutely. Also, who the fuck knows that much about Bonnie and Clyde?”

You make him turn around again, and repeat a similar process with the conditioner. The entire time, you try to not think about the awareness that the same burn in your own gut is alight in him.

He shrugs a little, bends a little more to encourage your fingertips back to his scalp. It doesn’t work — you’re focusing the conditioner on the drier ends of his curls. “I do.”

“Well, that’s just weird.”

You work in silence as you finish threading the conditioner through and detangling his hair with just your fingers. You don’t immediately have him rinse it out, and he takes the opportunity to reward you with the same care, the same domesticity. And just as he hadn’t questioned you, you don’t protest when he manhandles you to spin and face your back to him. You let him indulge you in the same massaging motions that you had just pampered him with, let suds of that sweetness surround you as your eyes shut delicately and you lean your head back into his deliberate touches.

Same care, same domesticity, same sensuality. You never thought washing someone’s hair could be something so intimate until his knuckles are between your locks and your back is brushing up against his chest due to limited space.

“It’s not about the money,” he randomly announces to you once the shampoo has been rinsed out and the conditioner takes its place. “I mean, I figured you knew that, but… still thought I’d say.”

“Figured as much.”

“I also wasn’t pissing,” he continues to overshare, “I know you figured as much there too.”

Biting your bottom lip to hold back a grin, you keep the rest of your face relaxed as you nonchalantly ask, “No? What distracted you, then?”

You can feel every deep breath he takes. The expansion of his chest only presses the two of you closer. Soon, you should both rinse out the conditioner. You should stop wasting water. The two of you should get out of this damn confining space and sleep, do something useful, make the most of the final four hours.

Instead, you’re letting yourself get lost in billows of steam, and teasing him. And maybe that’s something useful for you.

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

You can hear his grin. God, you can hear his grin and those stupid dimples making an appearance without needing to see his face.

“Say what?” you ploy faux innocence. His fingers are still in your hair. He has no reason to continue to comb them through, but they remain there, grazing your scalp and brushing the back of your neck.

His chin meets your shoulder suddenly, his breath on your ear. “What did you call this earlier, sweetheart? I believe you called it… stupid.”

Right. Stupid.

Stupid was the ache that resided inside you for him. Stupid was the way your thighs shook from how hard they pressed together from each soft caress of his breath on the shell of your ear. Stupid was the urge to reach your arm around your back and grab onto him, any part of him, and try to pull him as closely as humanly possible — and then some.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You’re a bad liar. And he loves it.

“Right,” he draws out the single syllable, hands leaving your hair, drifting at sea as they find comfort on your biceps, touch feather light, “You have no idea what I was doing in here. You weren’t staying by the door to see if you could hear me, trying to get a free show.”

So you had been right in calling the two of you stupid. Neither of you had been very conspicuous.

“A free show to what?” you keep up the act of innocence and swallow down the delighted hun when his hands move down your arms. You’re fully flush to his chest now, almost to the point of leaning your weight back against him.

“To me touching myself to you,” bold, crass words leave his lips, “To me fucking my fist to the thought of you. Squeezing my fist around my cock, trying to make it feel like that sweet pussy.”

Your knees nearly buckle. You try to play it cool, “Oh? Is that what you were doing?”

His playful chuckle is the final straw, and his hands now on your waist are the only thing keeping you upright.

“I was.”

“And were you successful?”

How you kept your tone so steady, so even, was lost on you.

“I wasn’t.”

One hand stays planted on your waist firmly, as if he knows he’s the only thing keeping you from collapsing in this heat between the two of you. The other dares to round to the front of your stomach, fingers splayed and fingertips almost tickling you as he lets them run down the center of your navel. He’s taking his time. Slowly, painfully, his hand travels. Down, down, down. Until his fingertips are grazing right over that fire he built inside you, mere inches from where you need him to touch you most. He has you right where he wants you, and he knows it.

And so he stops. Inches, maybe less, from where your cunt is throbbing for him.

“Didn’t you say you were good with your fingers?” you’re trying to keep up a cool facade, but it’s becoming useless at this point. Your voice comes out a whine, and your hips subtly buck against empty air to try to encourage his touch lower.

“I did,” he hums directly into your ear. The hand on your waist becomes an arm fully wrapped around your front, and the press of your back to his chest becomes far more intentional. All of it to hold you in place as he moves his hand right over where you want him. He avoids your body’s pleas, and jumps straight to teasing his fingertips over the tops of your thighs. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

It’s almost funny to remember how flustered he was when he’d first made the comment, how quick he had been to defend it against being something dirtier, only to now be using it against you in anything but an innocent context.

“Please,” the beg falls from your lip as you give up on the game.

It’s a combination of all his gentle touches, the feeling of his curls between your knuckles, the steam that is smothering the two of you without notice, the way you can still feel every damn breath of his. Both through his mouth now softly kissing at the lobe of your ear, and his chest that only presses more tightly to you. That tightening arm around your waist, and the subtle change of position of his knee.

You aren’t expecting it, and your feet slide apart quickly, nearly dropping onto his sweetly placed leg between yours.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

You can’t even recall the feeling of hatred you used to get at the nickname. Now, in its place, is something buzzing, something buttery, something contradictory. You’re dizzy with satisfaction from the way he murmurs it directly into your ear.

“Please touch me,” you gasp when his knee brushes upwards, not quite reaching where you need him. You swear there’s a pulse now, a throbbing cry that would do just about anything to feel those hands on you, “Please, please.”

You’re losing focus as your thoughts start to fuzz at the edges, suddenly only able to manage the words please and his name.

And it isn’t lost on him. “Look at you. I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re already going so dumb for me, aren’t you?”

Your stomach churns, everything in you tightens, and your pride isn’t above dropping yourself down properly onto his knee and grinding. You would if you could — his fucking arm won’t let you.

When you glance down, you realize just how tight his grip is. You can trace each vein along his forearm, catch the white of his knuckles as they curl against you.

He’s holding onto you for dear life, and yet his death grip doesn’t so much as hurt. You only feel safe, you only feel wanted.

“Please just touch me, Eddie,” you whimper out, not caring about how desperate you sound anymore. You have no shame, no pride, no careful calculations left for the man behind you.

His hands stop their dance across the apex of your thighs. One moment, you can barely feel his fingertips running over their softness, and the next, it vanishes completely.

You open your mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a gasp as his fingers are suddenly on your cunt, spreading you apart at a leisurely pace. You move to grab onto his forearm for leverage but he suddenly tsks and stops all of his movements.

“You can either have me touch you, or you touch me. But you can’t have both, sweetheart. Not right now.”

Through the haze, you’re unable to use your words to answer, instead cracking your eyes back open and trying to crane your neck to see Eddie properly. But he’s only chuckling into your ear again, arm around your waist tightening.

“C’mon, baby. Use your words. Which would you rather have?” he taunts, tilting his chin down and letting his nose nuzzle against the peak of your shoulder, lips barely brushing the skin.

You would have expected to not even catch the subtle feeling of plushness on you right now between your ever-growing frustration and the water still raining down on both of you. But you do; your body is growing acutely aware of every single point of contact between the two of you as the minutes go on. Every inch of your skin is tuned into his touch and where it flows, where it leaves you, where it presses deeper.

You open your mouth to respond to him, but you can’t. You can’t explain it: there isn’t a tightness in your throat, a pain grasp on your chest, a fear that is swallowing the words whole. It’s the opposite. All of your taut strings have gone slack, waves of surrendering to him having overcome all of your deepest anxieties. In this moment, amongst the white noise of a shitty apartment shower, all that there exists is him. The time limit slips away, the bet is a thing of the past, and the road taken to bring you both here is completely forgotten.

His touch is able to remain light when he decides to turn you in his arm, the grip once around your waist now pressing into your lower back as you face him. You’re completely malleable for him to do as he wishes.

Facing him, you watch all of the amusement and cockiness melt away from his features. His smirk goes soft and his face falls in awe, mouth parted as he takes in that look in your eyes. He knows. He knows that in this moment, you are completely defenseless and utterly his.

You watch all the air leave his lungs, and feel the consequential breath that releases hit the bridge of your nose due to the proximity. “You really are cock drunk for me right now, aren’t you? I haven’t even given it to you yet and you’re just… gone.”

If you weren’t completely under his spell at this moment, you would have burned with embarrassment down to the bone.

You just nod.

With this revelation, his grip on you completely transforms. It’s not just a matter of keeping you upright, but a matter of keeping you tethered to him. As if he’s afraid that the moment he lets go, he loses you.

If you could find the words, you’d assure him that he wouldn’t. You weren’t something so fleeting, so passing.

Without words, all you can do is show him. So you press up onto your tip-toes and kiss him. Hard, then soft. Fervently, then patiently. Achingly, and then assuredly. Every flash of contradiction between the two of you and all that has accumulated goes into the kiss as you let him find his breath again, solely by stealing yours.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs against your lips, before his nose rubs against the tip of yours as it begins a journey. Across your cheek, down your jaw, into the crook of your neck. You feel spouts of warm water trickle over his collarbones and against your own.

This time, you do have the words for him. Or rather, the word for him.

“You.”

There’s no other way to put it. You just want him.

He pulls back and stares directly into your eyes, his own brown ones swarming with varied emotions. You’re finally able to start deciphering some of them – lust, want, surprise – but not quite all of them yet.

Before you realize what’s happening, he’s sinking to his knees. Somehow, he’s twisted you so that your back meets the cool tile of the wall, careful in watching the way it supports you during the entirety of his descent.

He doesn’t say a word, his eyes doing all the talking necessary through wet lashes as he guides you to balance a foot on the edge of the tub and hook your knee onto his shoulder. Just as you realize what he’s doing, his mouth is on your hot cunt.

For all the talk and thoughts about just how good his fingers were, you seemed to have forgotten just how good his mouth was.

His tongue works away at your clit, tracing patterns before alternating to suck it sharply between his lips. He seems to have forgotten about his earlier threat, or maybe he’s just feeling merciful, as your hands instinctively reach down and wind into the roots of his wet hair. Curls matt in your grasp instantly. A harsh tug, and he’s moving his attention elsewhere, nose now nudging your clit as he circles around your entrance, pulling whines from deep within you at the teasing.

“Eddie,” you throw your head back hard enough that you’re sure that there will be an ache to feel once all is said and done, “Fuck. Right there.”

“I see someone’s found their words,” his voice is muffled and you can feel his smirk rather than see it.

It’s a damn pretty sight. Him, on his knees, wet curls plastering down his shoulders and back as his face is buried between your thighs.

You can trace over each indent of muscle across his skin through half-lidded eyes, memorize the way it looks dazzling with the moisture, watch as water pools where his fingers dig into your thighs to keep you balanced.

When his tongue finally slips inside of you, slow and stretching as the tip of his nose digs deeper into your clit, you swear you’re seeing stars. You were going to snarkily reply, but you don’t have the capacity to reply with anything other than chants of his name. Mixtures of praying to him and praying to God fall from your lips alongside curses. All muddled, all strings of whimpers and moans as he continues to bring you closer to your edge. When he finally resorts to bringing his hand back into the mix, sinking two fingers into your cunt with little warning as he returns to lazy work on your clit, you gasp out – your body lurches forward as your curl into him and your back leaves the now sticky, warm wall.

The arm that was wrapped around your lifted leg to help you balance is quick to throw over your hips, keeping half your body still pressed to the wall. “Careful, princess.”

Each word reverberates through you, both physically and somewhere deep in your mind, sending you even further reeling as your fingers grab onto him deeper and try to press him impossibly close.

Princess. Somewhere along crossing all these lines, you have ventured into new territory. A territory where the nicknames get under your skin in a brand new way, slipping into your subconscious for the better rather than arising any irritation.

Baby, princess, sweetheart.

You’ll take whatever you can get from him.

“Wouldn’t want you slipping and falling,” he murmurs as he pulls back, face now slick with you rather than the steam or water, “Can’t have you ruining that pretty face, getting blood all over my bathroom, now can we?”

He’s right. God, you fucking hate when he’s right. As much as every part of your body is screaming for him to take you right here against the shower wall, you know it’s not a good idea. And you’ve really, really succumbed to enough bad ideas in these last nineteen hours.

“Bed,” you manage to gasp out, quick to detangle your fingers from his hair and try to grab onto his shoulders without purchase due to the water still tumbling down, “Bed, now.”

He gets the message. Rises to his feet and lets your leg fall back down, shaking as he turns to cut the shower abruptly. Without asking, he’s the one to exit into the fierce cold of the apartment first, grabbing at the flesh of your hips and guiding you out along with him. He doesn’t even bother with towels – once he has you out of that potential death trap of a tub, his lips are on yours, nipping and passionate as you breathe him in. He’s the one that maneuvers the two of you out of the bathroom, you don’t even notice when he reaches behind himself to open the door, impressively never tripping as he walks backwards and keeps your lips on his.

It occurs to you that this is how you two work best. No overshadow of being honest with each other, no clouds of feelings getting in the way. And yet, somehow, it’s the most vulnerable you’ve managed to feel with him yet.

You don’t want it to only be this easy when both your clothes are off. You want it to be this easy in the early mornings that you wake him up for work, you want it this easy over late night take-out and horror movie marathons. You want more cigarettes at sunset with him, soft confessionals over a rising sun.

You can’t keep pretending that nothing has changed. You simply can’t. The fierce promise of his protection, the way his eyes stay trained on you even in the busiest of rooms. Nothing could ever erase the blooms left from him hooking his pinky with yours at the parking garage.

All of the night is flashing through your mind, and even in the trance he has you under, you’re seeing with perfect clarity.

It’s why just as the backs of your knees connect with his mattress, before he can throw you down and continue what was started in the shower, you’re pushing your palms against his wet chest and forcing him to look into your eyes.

“If we do this,” you shakily begin, watching his chest rise and fall in sync with yours. Once you say these words, you can’t take them back. You’re vividly aware of it before you continue to force your voice to come out the most steadily it has the entire night, “It changes everything.”

He blinks, eyes owlish. Once, twice. More of that emotion you finally can single out but never identify swirls like storm clouds in his vision. You wait for him to run, for him to take it all back. You wait for it all to be over – for him to deliver the final blow and leave you to collect the rubble and blood money so you can pretend this night never happened.

“Okay.”

Those aren’t the words of a fatal blow. You think they might send you reeling even worse, though.

“Okay?” you clarify. If your tongue wasn’t so heavy, you’d say more. Remind him of what exactly it means to change everything.

It seems he already knows as he parrots back, “Okay.”

Lips meet again, and this time, they’re charged with everything. With a promise of change and a promise that maybe there isn’t a ridiculous time limit here. There is no doomsday clock between the two of you. When the clock strikes 3 PM, neither of you will vanish into thin air.

You let him throw you back onto the bed. Your bare back meets the surprisingly soft sheets, and they erupt in the scent of Eddie. Cigarettes, a hint of weed, whatever cologne he seems to douse himself in. You can even pinpoint his shampoo amongst the fragrance now.

It’s no longer the smell of boy that you once ran from. His hand is behind your back, but not trapped. It’s there willingly and it is caressing every inch of you that he can find, tracing out any dimples in your back he can discover as he lets your legs curl up onto his hips, kisses dappling your neck, jaw, and lips alike.

Your vines stretch high and proud, and drink in his waves with every passing of his breath on your skin that raises goosebumps.

You want to live here forever. In the feel of him pausing right before his cock presses into you, in the way his face scrunches up and his mouth falls agape, the haze now spreading from your mind and across both of you. Nameless chants and pleads for what was already both in the palm of your hands before you even knew what to do with it. The roll of his hips and the way his wet skin sticks to your own. Your heels digging into him, bringing him in closer, closer, closer.

Every time, it has felt this way. Something beneath the surface that has you surrendering over yourself. He has hurt you, time and time again, and you’ve let your knives be just as sharp – but the wounds scab over now when it’s just the two of you like this.

You’re best like this for a reason. Because for once, neither of you are overthinking it. You are vulnerable and you are bare, not just physically but emotionally. Honesty isn’t a request; it is a given. You don’t just have him, you know him. Across oceans and across gardens, across midnight skies and across soft morning light.

You have him. You know him.

It’s enough.

Smokey bars. His protection. Slamming doors and the clicking of locks released. The night air surrounding you and the warmth of his back as you cling to him on a motorcycle that seems to be going faster than light in your memories. That parking garage, and that hook of his pinky – a way to get closer, but also a whisper of a promise.

He’s bled for you. He’s bled from you.

This changes everything.

When his hips movements become sloppy, when the knot in your stomach tightens one last time, when your nails dig into his back and leave their mark, you know it to be true.

Everything, everything, changes.

Eddie never really hated you, never really could, and you realize now that the feeling is mutual.

—

You hadn’t considered exactly what the aftermath would be when Eddie first dragged you out of the shower, but you surely never could have imagined the scene now playing out.

Him, on his back, content and humming a song you’re too tired to ask him about. His fingers are trailing mindlessly up and down your spine as you splay out across his chest. You both probably need another shower, but neither of you are willing to leave his bed for it.

It’s not you who remembers the photo. No, you’re tired, one foot already in the door of sleep as you curl yourself tighter into his side.

He doesn’t use your phone this time. You didn’t even realize his outdated flip phone had a camera on it. You’re not even sure if you dreamt the soft click that sounds like a camera as you nuzzle deeper into his chest.

“Everything,” he whispers, just as the edges of your consciousness begin to blacken, “Yeah, this changes everything.”

Your last thought is a curious one; will he send the photo he just took?

Would he dare to admit to everyone how everything has changed?

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#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #hehe was right

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makeyoumine69 · 10 months

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Hi! I wish you further growth and inspiration!

My choice is pussy eating and sex toys.

Good luck! 💦💦💦

Fever

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: You love going out and having dinner with Patrick, but not when his friends come along, they always make you feel so uncomfortable and insecure. Good thing he has his own ways of reassuring you, right?

— CONTAINS: Smut, established relationship, sex toys, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), Daddy kink, Praise kink, Degradation kink, pet names, a lot of cum, nipple play, choking, biting, slight dacryphilia, humiliation, dirty talk, Patrick being a manipulative dickhead.

— WORDS: 3.2k

— SONG REC: Babydoll x the Perfect Girl

— A/N: This day finally came, and I finished my first writing challenge, which I started to celebrate my 200 followers! Thank you so much, guys, for standing by my side. I love you and I hope you like it!🖤

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [BWC MASTERLIST] [support]💗

Dorsia, just the mention of the name of that establishment was enough to make Batman frown and clench his jaw in annoyance. Nonetheless, that was the exact place you and him wanted to spend that evening, and when you finally took your seats at the best table in Dorsia, Patrick's face was like a wax statue, it was impossible to read any of his emotions.

Tim, Craig, David and their bimbos couldn’t stop rumbling even for one second and that actually annoyed Bateman, but on the other hand he used it as an opportunity to whisper filthy things right into your ear, taking advantage of the fact that no one else was paying attention due to the ruckus.

“Did my good girl do her homework while I was away?” He nuzzled against your neck, and you fidgeted on your chair uncomfortably, feeling embarrassed. “I can’t wait until we get alone.”

“I bet you do.” You reply shortly, without breaking eye contact with him.

Pleased, Patrick leaned on the chair back, his sly smile speaking for itself. Sneakily, he placed his palm on your knee to play with the hem of your cocktail dress, only to tease you and induce you to try closing your legs. With a muffled gasp, you caught his dexterous hand just at the moment everyone looked at both of you.

"So, Bateman. How was your business trip?" Craig asked with a cheeky grin. "Did you enjoy LA? I hear the chicks there are pretty hot."

The men started laughing together as if they shared the same brain cell, and you used that moment to brush Patrick's palm away, which actually made him a little upset, so he paused and coughed a little.

"McDermott, you can go to LA and see everything with your own eyes!" Patrick scoffed and took a sip of his drink. "I don't want to give any spoilers."

Sighing, you pulled yourself together as you repeated to yourself over and over again that you wouldn't let their childish behavior get under your skin. The girls — models, supposedly — looked at each other in frustration, but neither Bateman nor his colleagues seemed to care.

"God, Bateman! Now I'm intrigued!" McDermott chuckled before lighting his cigarette.

With a mischievous smirk, Patrick hugged your shoulders when he saw a glimpse of sadness in your beautiful, big eyes, and you couldn't help but smile timidly at David's comment:

"Look at them, just two lovebirds."

"Oh, shut up," Bateman blurted out jokingly. "Being jealous isn't a good thing."

Van Patten rolled his eyes at Patrick's remark, but immediately lost interest when the girl next to him leaned down to his neck and whispered something.

"Patrick?" You called his name so softly that it elicited a muffled gasp from his broad chest.

"Yes, dear?" He replied, looking at you lovingly and moving even closer so that you could whisper in his ear.

"When are we going home?"

"Do you want to go?" He 'accidentally' touched your cheek with his perfectly shaped nose, making your heart skip a beat.

"No, I was just asking."

"It's not a problem, honey." Bateman leaned even closer to kiss the area behind your ear. "Besides. I'm starving."

"But we just ate." You almost squealed when he discreetly pinched your thigh under the table, his dark grin sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him.

“You know what I mean, babydoll.” He crooned in a low voice, not giving a fuck about how attentively his coworkers were looking at both of you.

“I–” You wanted to talk back to him, but he suddenly cut you off, standing up and removing the napkin from his knees.

“Gentlemen, sorry, but we have to go.”

“So soon? What happened, Bateman?” Craig tried to sound sassy, but when he didn’t get any attention, his face went plain.

“Don’t worry, McDermott. We will get back to our conversation one day.” Patrick winked at him and offered you a hand, expecting you to take it. When you did, he pressed a brief kiss on the back of your hand.

Tim whistled at the sight and you ignored him, but you couldn't stop Patrick from shamelessly grabbing your ass as you two were leaving.

“Have fun, Bateman. But don’t make your neighbors call the cops.” Bryce added, making everyone laugh. Frowning, you looked at Patrick, expecting him to say something that would calm his coworkers down.

“I’ll call them if you don’t return those porn videotapes I gave you last week.” Bateman crooned with a cheeky smile and after that, he led you to the exit, so you could only catch a glimpse of Timothy’s blank face before you eventually left Dorsia.

In the taxi you both remained silent. You couldn't help but feel a little offended by the way his colleagues behaved, and the thing you hated the most was that you knew that if you told Patrick about it, he would just shrug it off and say that there was nothing special about it.

"Honey?" Bateman suddenly interrupted your train of thoughts with his playful voice, as if he could read your mind. Sometimes it was even scary how perfectly he could sense your mood.

"You have terrible friends, you know that?" You replied, disregarding his flirtatious tone.

With a cocky chuckle, he wrapped his hand around your shoulder when he saw you crossing your arms defensively over your chest.

"Well, I know they're not the greatest people..." He paused, wondering what to say to cheer you up.

"And I don't like it when you treat me like I'm one of those stupid bimbos," you finally turned to him and pushed his hand away harshly. "How many times do I have to explain this to you and—"

His tight grip on your throat made you choke for air, and you nearly shrieked at his unexpected roughness.

"I think you've forgotten who's in charge here, little girl." Patrick growled into your ear, and you thanked God that the partition in the taxi was closed. "How many times have I told you I don't like this kind of attitude?"

Closing your eyes, you whimpered from lack of oxygen and tried to say something, but he didn't even give you the chance to do it as he covered your mouth with his greedy one. Bateman reveled in all your muffled, pitiful sounds, kissing you hard while his other hand slipped under your dress to possessively get a handful of your soaked pussy. Damn it! Instead of being scared, you were so fucking aroused and that only made the whole situation worse, because after Patrick let go of you, he sneered in the most arrogant way and brought his long fingers, coated in your flavor, to his lips to taste it.

"Don't ever compare yourself to those bitches," he reminded you, fixing the hem of your dress and gently stroking your leg; his face softened as he let out a disappointed sigh. "After all, I missed you so much, (y/n). And I thought you missed me, too."

"I missed you, I really did!" You panicked a little. Patrick was such a master of manipulation, a few moments ago you had accused him and his friends of having bad manners, and now you felt guilty about making that scene.

"So why did we have this shitty conversation about my colleagues and their whores instead of talking about us?" Patrick replied in a challenging tone, his big palm was still on your knee, but this time you didn't dare to brush it away.

"Because it makes me sad!" You blurted out and looked at him, now staring at the scenery through the taxi window.

"Fine, I won't take you to dinners like these anymore." His annoyed voice echoed in your ears, and you couldn't help but feel your heart breaking at his comment. You lowered your head down and cried, barely audible, but somehow Bateman immediately noticed.

"Are you crying, (y/n)? Seriously?"

"Patrick, maybe I should go home? I don't feel well and I don't want to disappoint you with—"

"Enough of this bullshit, okay?" He suddenly pressed you against his chest, letting you hug him around his waist. "I'm not letting you go, not now, not ever."

Where was your good mood and that sparkle that set your body on fire when you were in the restaurant? God, you hated yourself for acting like that, but his friends — those stupid yuppies — always made you sick to the stomach, but this time you really had lost your patience. And even though you calmed down now and hid your face in the crook of Patrick's neck, the tension between the two of you was still in the air, and you didn't really know what to expect when you arrived at his place.

After almost an hour, you were sitting on his big bed, completely naked and still shivering — you could still feel his touch on your most sensitive spots as Bateman had just washed you in the bathtub, rubbing and massaging you everywhere.

When you heard a soft click of the bedroom door, you raised your eyes to see him coming in, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other, his red tie loosened and some of the top buttons undone.

"How do you feel, babydoll?" Patrick asked you teasingly, shaking the glass in his hand and leaning against the door.

You swallowed hard when his super dark eyes glided over your exposed curves, and you had to hold back your rapid breathing, because you were so damn excited. " Much better, thank you."

Bateman let out a low chuckle before placing his drink on the shelf and coming a little closer to you, puffing on his cigar.

"Good," he smiled and blew a few rings of smoke. "Now show Daddy how you learned to use my gift."

His words forced the blood in your veins to curse faster, making your skin burn from the inside out. With a loud gasp, you lay on the bed, leaning on your elbows and spreading your legs wide, so he could see your succulent pussy.

As soon as you did so, Bateman clenched his chiseled jaw and almost bit down on the cigar, but he kept watching your little hand slide between your thighs, and when it reached your soaped slit, he couldn't help but growl — he'd been rock hard all this time, but now it was getting really painful.

"P-Patrick, I'm scared..." you whimpered abruptly, taking the pink silicone dildo — the one that has been laying beside you on the bed — and rubbing it along your taut lower lips to lubricate it. "It's so embarrassing."

"Oh, I know, honey. I know," he purred in his usual seductive voice, and unbuttoned his blue shirt. "But you don't have to be embarrassed. Trust me, baby, Daddy knows what's best for you."

Damn, that was too much.

Gulping and closing your eyes, you threw your head back and tried to let it go, placing the dildo at your dripping entrance, and the next second you cried out from the feeling of fullness as you pushed it deep into your womb.

"Such a good girl."

"D-Daddy!" You let out a high-pitched wail, focusing on his raspy voice as you were too embarrassed to open your eyes.

"Go on," Bateman exhaled sharply, putting the cigar in the ashtray, and then he unzipped his pants, his hot flesh literally pulsating. "You make Daddy so proud."

"Mhhm," his words made you arch your back, and you began to pump yourself with the sex toy, sensing a tight knot forming in your lower abdomen. "Pat-Patrick, please… talk to me!"

He didn't answer at first as he continued to undress, slowly stroking his engorged cock. "Ahhh, this is so fucking sweet," Patrick grunted, smearing his pre-cum around his swollen tip. "Can't do anything without my guidance, am I right, my babydoll?"

"Awww—yes," you gasped, your legs already shaking. "N-need you, Daddy! Need you so much…!"

At that moment, you didn't care about anything in the world, just the buzzing feeling in your core. There was only one person who could give you that vital release you needed so desperately, and you were more than ready to beg him if he asked you to.

"You know what," Bateman murmured as he finally undressed and joined you on the bed, and when you felt his big palm on your hip, you thought you were going to combust, but he gently stroked your cheek, soothing you a little, whispering: "Shh, my little one. Not yet."

You literally writhed on the sheets like a trapped kitten, afraid to breathe, afraid to say anything that would ruin this moment.

"Patrick..."

"Yes, dear... I'm here," he covered your hand with his bigger one, pushing the dildo even deeper, making you scream. "That's it, that's how you do it!"

"Awww, oh my GOD!" you tried to close your legs as the friction became too intense and Bateman just snickered at your pathetic attempt to stop him, so he just grabbed your throat and yanked it a little against the bed. "D-Daddy, it hurts!"

"Oh yeah?" Patrick couldn't hide his excitement when he saw your eyes watering, but his inner beast craved more. "I really wanted to be nice to you today, but you made me change my mind."

"Ahhh!" You clawed at his hand, which was choking you hard, but this man was too strong. "I'm... I'm s-sorry! I'M SO SORRY!"

The way he shoved the dildo into your bruised cunt was so fucking brutal that for one second you blacked out as the apex of it hit your cervix pretty brutally.

When you opened your eyes and yours met his, all you could see was lust mixed with rage. Huffing, Bateman suddenly moved down to your face to nip at your lips, then suck them and lick your cheekbone as he relished having such control over you. With a devilish grin, he continued to squeeze your neck, forcing you to fuck yourself with the dildo that was now completely covered in your juices.

"Do you hear that sound?" He taunted you, hovering over you and pressing you down with his massive muscles. "You're dripping like a fucking waterfall! So don't try to pretend you're not enjoying it, slut!"

"I'm going to explode!" Was all you could manage to scream as your whole body tensed like a spring.

"Awww, you're going to cum from fucking yourself with a cheesy sex toy, what a pathetic little whore!" Patrick almost barked these words in your face, but then he suddenly released your neck and went down to your collarbone, leaving wet, red marks here and there. "Keep going and don't you dare stop!"

Your eyes rolled back in your head when his wet tongue began to play with your swollen nipples, not to mention when he took one of them into his mouth and sucked it so eagerly that you cried out in pain. Trembling, you let him use your hand to set the pace, your inner walls aching every time the dildo brushed hard against them.

When Bateman noticed that your little frame was quivering too much, he quickly slipped down between your legs to suck on your clit and holy shit, he was so good at it, he definitely knew what he was doing.

"I—mhm, I'm gonna cum… Daddy, p-pleaseeee!" You were no longer moaning — at this point you were literally screaming, and your throat was burning, but that only spurred him on to eat you more fiercely.

"Mmmm, I've been thinking about tasting this pussy," he tugged on your sensitive bud before swirling his tongue around it. "For so fucking long."

Another deep thrust, followed by his merciless lapping at your oversensitive cunt, made your orgasm wash over you like a huge ocean wave. Shaking, your half-opened mouth froze in a silent cry as all your insides spasmed too intensely, and this sensation lasted so long that you almost fainted.

"Jesus, what a dirty girl you are," Patrick chuckled after he pulled away from your pussy and removed the dildo, his face covered in your wetness, it was literally running down his chin. "Look at that, you fucking cummed all over my face!" He forced you to look at him, and your dazed glance coaxed a loud chuckle from him. "You think I'm done with you?"

"I..." You tried desperately to pull yourself together, but the overstimulation hit you so hard that your brain refused to function at all.

"Yes, I'm talking to you!"

"Aww, w-wait!" You wailed loudly as he grasped your head and forced you closer to the edge of the bed. "Daddy!"

"Don't you 'Daddy' me," his ominous intonation was kinda scary, but you had no choice but to submit. "Don't worry, honey... I'm just going to play with your mouth a little..."

With a quick thrust, he pushed himself into your mouth, since you didn't really have any power to protest. Although it would have been pointless to do it anyway. You expected him to face fuck you really hard, but instead Bateman gently took your chin for support as his hips began to move faster, petting your head each time his red, swollen tip hit your throat.

"Arghh, your mouth feels so good, I missed that."

Patrick stroked your cheek almost lovingly, ignoring the way that you were almost gagging on his thick cock, savoring his cum and keeping eye contact with him. Grunting, he didn't last long as he collapsed into your mouth, rolling his hips and spilling his sticky liquid deep down your throat, and you didn't make any pathetic sounds, no whimpering or sobbing — you just took what he gave you. With your eyes closed, you drank him dry and heard him murmur:

"For now, I forgive you."

Slowly, Bateman pulled out from your abused mouth, leaving a trail of his cum and letting a few drops fall on your breasts.

"Clean them," he pointed at your tits, pumping his still hard cock and watching you catch the drops of his cum with your fingers. "Now get on your knees and spread your legs wide."

Whimpering, you obeyed and Patrick didn't waste any time, positioning himself behind you and wrapping his strong hands around your waist.

"Ahhh, Patrick..."

"Shush," he cut you off, rubbing his creamy cock between your ass cheeks. "I'm not going to fuck you in the ass, even though you really deserve it."

He rammed into your aching pussy without any mercy, stretching you even more from the inside and making you cry, your hands helplessly creasing the sheets beneath you.

"IT HURTS! AW!" You squealed as he pinned you down, forcing you to lie on your stomach as he trapped you under his massive body, relentlessly drilling your little hole.

"What? My dick is way bigger than that dildo, huh?" Bateman mocked you shamelessly, the slapping sound your bodies made was like music to his ears. "Ohh, what a poor little girl… mmhhm… I promise you… by the end of this night you will be so fucking full of my cum — that it will pour out, but I won’t stop… even if you beg me to!"

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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pitchsidestories · 13 days

Text

flowers II Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x Reader

a/n: hi, this is purely fiction but we were inspired by Lucy's instagram story at Diada de Sant Jordi, we hope you guys like it. 😊

warnings: mostly fluff, it's only slightly suggestive at the end of the oneshot.

masterlist I word count: 1628

Despite the loss in the champions league half final against Chelsea on saturday, you observed that the atmosphere in the team wasn’t too bad at the start of the training, perhaps because it was Diada de Sant Jordi.

It was one of your favourite festive days of Catalonia as it concluded two of your favourite things next to football which were flowers and books. Plus you were looking forwart to spend some quality time with your two girlfriends Lucy and Ona in the evening.

“Bona Diada de Sant Jordi.”, the woman who was filming the team for social media chirmed while you all were slowly entering the pitch.

“Feliç Sant Jordi“, you wished into the camera smiling, Ona next to you waved silently with a huge grin on her face.

Right behind you two Lucy and Keira passed the media person, the English defender shouted: “Happy Jordie-Day!”

“Jordie-Day?”, Ona asked, rising an eyebrow in question.

“Jordan Nobbs Day?”, the older woman explained laughing.

“Ignore her, Oni. She knows exactly what today is about books, roses, and dragons.”, you winked at her.

“And Jordan.”, Lucy added with a childish smile.

Curiously Mariona turned her head to face you and your girlfriends properly:” Do you three lovebirds have planned something special after training?”

“No, not really, except for dinner tonight. Also, can’t believe they let me do the grocery shopping alone.”, Ona groaned.

“Hey, someone has to take Narla on a walk.”, the older English woman defended herself.

“And Mapi needs my help with book shopping.”, you added, throwing innocent looks at her.

“Excuses!”, the youngest of the three of you replied.

“We’ll do the cooking and cleaning afterwards I promise.”, you told her in a soothing tone.

“I hope so.”, she nodded satisfied.

“Now that everyone knows what to do after training.”, Lucy begun before picking both of your pairs of football boots and running away from you.

“Lucia!”, Ona and you scolded her.

“What are you waiting for?”, the dark-haired woman questioned you giggling looking more like the little girl she once was instead of the over thirty years old person she was now.

This gave you the chance to catch up with her.

“We got you.”, Ona cheered as the three of you tumbled to the ground laughing out loud.

“Here are your shoes, Oni.”, you said before you put your own boots on.

“Thanks.”, she muttered, still with a big smile on her lips.

Slowly Lucy got up, padding both of your backs encouragingly:” Come on, girls.”

“Coming.”, you exclaimed excitedly. The weight of the loss on your shoulders felt lighter when you three were able to laugh about silly moments like this.

Right after training, you said goodbye to your girlfriends and met up with the still injured Mapi in a bookshop. The two of you strolled through the shelves, browsing for the perfect books.

Excitedly, you picked out a book and held it up for Mapi: “Have you heard about this one?

Your teammate eyed the book curiously as she took it: “No, is it gay?“

You smirked. Typical Mapi.

You pulled another book from the shelf and handed it to her: “No, but this one is.“

It was a poetry collection by Mary Oliver which Mapi took with an uncertain look on her face.

She flipped through the pages: “Do you think Ingrid would like it?“

“Hm, wait. Here’s one about three women of a family. It’s set in Barcelona and a café plays an important part in it. I feel like that’s more an Ingrid-book, don’t you agree?“, you said as you gave her the third book.

You knew you found the perfect match when you saw Mapis eyes lit up.

She skimmed the blurb of the book and looked at you with a bright smile: “That is so Ingrid!“

“You should gift her that one.“, you suggested happily.

The defender pressed the book to her chest: “Thanks. I know why I asked you to help me with that.“

You could feel your cheeks turn red so you turned back towards the books: “You’re welcome.“

Mapi watched as you picked up the poetry collection again: “Are you getting it for your girls too?“

You nodded as you walked towards the checkout: “Yes, we love to read out loud to each other in the evenings.“

“That’s disgustingly sweet. Didn’t Lucy was into stuff like that.“, Mapi scrunched her nose.

You giggled: “Don’t tell anyone. Lucy wants to make everyone believe that she’s so tough.“

“Promise. I won’t say a word about it.“

“Thank you but Ingrid and you should try that too. It’s very relaxing.“, you suggested.

Mapi only winked at you: “We’re busy doing other stuff.“

“Oh, trust me, we do that too.“, you laughed, knowing full well that your girlfriends were insatiable.

“Oh, I bet you do.“, she smirked.

You tried to switch the topic quickly when you realized that other people might be listening: “Now that we’re done book shopping… Coffee?“

“Please. I need some caffeine!“, Mapi laughed.

“Me too.“, you agreed. But a small flower shop next to the book store caught your attention. They were selling gorgeous bouquets of roses.

“Wait here. I’ll just get those flowers.“, you told Mapi before walking into the shop and reappearing with the wrapped up bouquet just a few minutes later.

“That’s a huge bouquet.“, the defender commented, watching you carry the unwieldy package.

“It’s beautiful though, right?”, you said, looking almost as admiring at the pretty flowers like you usually did at your girlfriends.

“Very.”, Mapi admitted before she pulled you into the direction to the café, the smell of fresh coffee beans already promised a delicious coffee and a fun chat about everything and nothing.

Meanwhile, Alexia celebrated the special day with the girlfriend and the dog by walking at the Passeig de Gracia. It might have been a bit too busy for her taste, but the midfielder wanted to get her love something she only could get there. Both admired the Casa Batlló which was decorated with roses in front of them when the Barcelona player spotted someone very familiar:” Hi Narla and Lucy.”

“Hi.”, the English woman grinned, holding proudly the dog leash in one hand and in the other beautiful red flowers.

“Oh, the roses are stunning.”, Olga remarked smiling.

“I hope my girls like them too.”, Lucy responded, her cheeks turning slightly pink which didn’t get unnoticed by her club captain.

“Who thought Lucy Bronz is a romantic.”, Alexia teased the defender.

“I’m not but those two are. So, I’m delivering.”, the slightly older woman explained.

“That’s cute.”, Olga hummed.

“I know.”, Lucy laughed.

“See you, Lucia.”, the blonde said goodbye, so did her girlfriend and the English player.

Glancing at the watch around her wrist Lucy realized that was time to slowly return to her home.

Almost at the same time Ona and you arrived on your front door. The Spanish player happily exclaimed while entering the appartement:” Hi girls, you can start cooking I bought the goods.”

“Perfect., you nodded, after a moment you couldn’t hold it back any longer and added, look, I got you two those flowers.”

“Hey, get those out of here. I bought some already.”, Lucy joked.

“What, no, I got some too!”, Ona chuckled.

“Are you saying we have different bouquets of flowers now?”, you lifted an eyebrow in amusement.

“Yes, we do.”, the youngest of you three smiled sheepishly.

“One for the kitchen, one for the living room and one to put into our bedroom.”, the English woman decided.

“Sounds like a plan.”, you agreed with her before Lucy, and you started cooking.

The dinner that followed was filled with laughter and love. Because it already was quite late you three moved your conversation into your bedroom which smelled of fresh linen and lightly of fresh cut flowers.

“Y/n, show us the book you got from shopping earlier.”, Ona demanded excitedly.

“Alright make yourself comfortable.”, you told the women you loved.

“Wait. I’ll make us tea before you start.”, the English defender got up from the bed quickly, suddenly remembering what she wanted to do to make the moments especially cozy.

“She’s so British sometimes.”, the Spanish player muttered amused.

“Honestly.”, you giggled.

Patiently you waited until Lucy returned with her tea cup in hand. She placed the hot beverage on the bedside table and made herself comfortable next to you.

Ona planted her head in your lap.

“Ready?“, you asked.

Lucy took a sip of her tea before she gave you a nod: “Ready.“

Smiling, you opened your book and started reading a few poems.

Your girlfriends listened quietly.

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life.“, you read.

“Easy. Making you stop reading now so we can do other fun things.“, Lucy smirked, putting her hand across the page to keep you from continuing.

Ona sat up in excitement: “Right. We’ll continue with the poems tomorrow.“

You groaned: “You two are always so impatient. At least let me put the book away.“

Carefully you set down the book on the bedside table, next to Lucys now cold tea.

“No, time for that!“, Ona protested, pulling you back on the bed with a grin.

You raised an eyebrow: “Excuse me?“

Lucy just shrugged and slipped her hand under your shirt: “You heard her.“

“Okay, okay.“, you laughed, letting yourself relax under her touch.

“Finally.“

Ona moved closer to you, starting to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck while Lucys hands continued to move across your body. You enjoyed every movement. Your girlfriends knew how to make you feel good and you could not wait to give it back to them.

“Wild and precious life indeed.“, you sighed.

a/n: would you guys be interested in just a Luna fanfic ? <3

all pictures are from pinterest.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso oneshot #woso #woso community #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #woso fluff #lucy bronze x ona batlle x reader

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doki-doki-imagines · 5 months

Text

Power of a hug feat mk1 Johnny Cage, Bi-Han, Kenshi Takahashi author note:as my fave memer said "the wettest and most humid kiss is nothing in comparison to the power of an hug". There are other characters that I have in mind with this prompt so I hope the post will go well lol.

tw: Kenshi part is suggestive.

You are used to being alone, you have been for most of your years, and you are sure Johnny would never describe you as clingy. You give him his space, he gives you yours, nice and comfortable. That’s why when he told you about this expedition that was going to take him a long time and far away, you didn’t budge, just kissed him goodbye and told him to come back in one piece.

Okay, the departure wasn’t so blunt, and maybe there weren’t just kisses and maybe you were sobbing while telling him to be safe because you knew that Johnny wasn’t going out for a movie, but this is the gist of it.

And now you are sitting on Johnny’s armchair, wearing his favorite cover, the one dripping off his perfume, reading, trying to get your mind elsewhere while your heart silently shouts in pain, while your brain screams at it to shut up, because you are strong and even if you haven’t heard him for 2 months you shouldn’t miss him so much, because you are independent and yadda yadda; you miss him so much you’d curl up in a hole and get moldy there.

You sit there, ‘till you recognize a familiar sound, “is that Liu Kang voice?” you think, already standing up. There are other voices outside the house, but soon they all fade when you hear one in particular.

It’s Johnny’s one.

You’d like to stay in, wait for him inside nonchalantly walking towards him to greet your boyfriend as elegantly as you can muster.

Outside is snowing and you are wearing shorts (made of wool, but still shorts) and slippers but your mind simply doesn’t work, heart beating freely, pumping blood with new vigor.

“Johnny!” You open the door, freezing air hitting your body with full force, but you feel nothing.

Your legs run toward your boyfriend before your mind perceives your action. He turns around at your voice, and he is so beautiful your legs almost give up…almost.

“Oh-“ You jump in his arms, knocking him a few steps behind, not noticing all the gifts he had to throw on the ground to take you. You sigh in his arms, his strong arms now enveloping your shivering body “Kitty, are you shivering because you missed me?” He jokingly says,

“Yeah, it’s because I missed you so much.” Your voice breaks, your arms around his neck, legs gripping his waist as tightly as you can.

His hands slid on your thighs, thumbs drawing hearts on your skin, no goose-bumps, he is so warm and you are so full of love that you can’t feel anything else anymore.

Your foreheads kiss, breaths mingling, smiles stuck on both of your faces, warm brown eyes locked into yours.

His friends are long gone, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

He had to leave you there, in a snowstorm in the hands of the enemies, alone. You always have a plan, they always work out that’s why he trusts you so much even if you are a total dumbass.

“Go Bi-Han, don’t worry for me.” Your voice was trembling, you knew that you couldn’t survive and you also knew that he needed to return home alive.

And he follows your order because you are always right and things always go your way. Even when you are against him. Even when you tease him making his ears flush red. You always come up victorius.

Bi-Han stops on his track, snow falling on his shoulders. He can’t breathe. He hates you.

He’d like to sit there and let snow bury him. He can’t, he is Lin Kuei grandmaster whose willpower never waver, and who is headstrong like nobody else. Bi-Han has seen dear ones die in front of his eyes, betray him, this time mustn’t be any different.

Bi-Han feels like crying. You aren’t a fighter, but he wanted to bring you with him because nobody could outsmart you, and your brain was needed for this mission.

What an idiot. He tightens his fists, eyes closed so tight that wrinkles appear at the corners, no punishment would be enough for his mistake, never enough whips, never enough slaps.

He stays there a few more minutes, he couldn’t go back home, not ‘till he won’t be sure tears wouldn’t spill from his eyes.

Then he hears a voice, more like a whine, but it’s something he has heard many times before. Bi-Han starts to run towards the voice, walking much harder with so much snow.

“Told you-“ You are there, sitting on the snow, trembling like a newborn kitty, eyes shining, and with that shit-eating grin of yours “my plans never fail!” He crouches down towards you, he must be going crazy, his index and middle fingers pinch your cheek.

“Ouch! Why did you do that?” You are there, real, talking to him like you didn’t say goodbye to him a few minutes prior. He sits next to you, onyx eyes wide.

“You are alive” He is able to say, voice hoarse as always, mask reducing the sound to a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I would have never let anyone take my life, they have to get in line you know? Since you were the first one to promise me you were going to-“

Bi-Han doesn’t let you finish the phrase, his arms hugging your torso so close and so strongly against his body that he knocks air out of your lungs.

“I was so worried.” His right hand grips the back of your head, holding it in the nook of his neck. His voice trembles and he feels you stilling in his arms. He can feel your warm breath on his neck, your chest rising up and down at each breath you take; you are alive.

He almost lost you.

You free your head from his grip, thin ice on your hair like a veil made by his unrestrained magic, your hands now slowly removing his mask, showing you his trembling lips, you look at his eyes, he knows they are watery, his vision is foggy. Then your delicate fingers grip the collar of his uniform, your lips pressing for the first time against his.

It is a short moment, Bi-Han closes his eyes, and when he opens them your lips aren’t there anymore, but he still feels something warm; your arms reciprocating the hug.

It is suffocating but at the same time makes him feel alive, a warmth that envelops him entirely, that makes his heart run like a wild horse, but that puts his mind at ease; he is safe, you are too in his arms.

He couldn’t ask for more.

“K-Kenshi-“ You gasp, your hips grinding onto his, his tattoed hands running from your chest to your tummy, never resting, never letting you go.

He missed you. Kenshi missed you terribly. It wasn’t just sex, as good as it is, he missed your voice, your hands in his ones, your gentle lips on his cheeks. He missed hearing you talking about your day, about that terrible co-worker. He missed hearing your laughter and your hands massaging his scalp when he felt particularly stressed.

A moan dies in his throat after a delicious roll of your hips. Yeah, he missed this too.

You are close he can feel it and he is not far behind, but there is still something he desperately needs to do.

He lifts up, sitting now, his arms around your waist, hands on your lower back, both guiding your movements and keeping you close to his chest.

“I missed you so much-“ A whimper leaves his mouth, he can feel your lips so close to his, your breath labored, your body so close creates a delicious friction that just makes his mind fog even more.

“Me too, me too-“ You hug him back, your arms tight against his back, nails scratching his back while he helps you both reach completion.

You keep each other close, breaths still heavy, bodies sweaty.

“I missed you so much.” You are the first one to break the silence, Kenshi notices a hint of sadness.

Hint that became something more when the hand caressing your cheek meets a tear. The pang he feels in his heart hurts so much, but he also knows it is deserved.

“Me too honey, me too.” His right hand massages the back of your head, while the other traces heart-shaped patterns on your back.

Kenshi doesn’t let go, now laying on your shared bed, you on top of him. He can’t see your face, but losing sight made him more sensible, noticing every gasp leaving your lips, every twitch of your muscles.

He restrains himself, he can’t cry, but every gasp that leaves your lips is like a stab in his chest, each tear pulling your body closer, your hearts beating in synchronized sorrow.

But Kenshi can’t tell you that next time it will be different. He can’t reassure you that he will be safe.

He keeps you close to his chest ‘till he feels your breath slowing down, now stable. Kenshi keeps caressing your back, feeling his muscles relax, exhaustion washing over him too.

Kenshi soon falls asleep, wishing to still have you in his arms when he’ll regain consciousness the next morning.

#mortal kombat x reader #mk1 x reader #johnny cage x reader #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #johnny cage #bi han #kenshi takahashi #mortal kombat imagine #mk1 imagine #mortal kombat x you #mk1 x you

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nyx-is-missing · 4 months

Note

Clarisse and Reader (daughter of Poseidon) meeting in the middle of the night to swim in the lake and being caught by Chiron in a make-out session and being punished for it

Young love

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader (Poseidon's kid)

Summary: when Clarisse and reader cant get alone time in land and daylight, they search for the comfort of water and nights, until they are found

Warnings: poorly written make out session, fluff, lovebirds, kissing, chiron was there

(Yall already know)

"Clarisse are you sure nobody will notice we left?"

I said, while we both took of our clothes somewhere in the sand, the night was beautiful and me and Clarisse wanted some deserved time alone, wich we couldnt have in daylight

With the summer everyone was in camp and nowhere was calm and alone enough for us to have...a little time for us.

So there it goes our idea, to go out in the middle of the night to swim at the beach.

"Who would notice? Everyone is sleeping right now, dont let your head stop you from having some fun... c'mon"

She took me by the hand, walking me to the water, and we only stopped when the water was almost on our necks.

"Hey clari, do you hear this?"

"Hear what?"

She looks at me, and then looks around, as if waiting to see if somebody was there.

"The waves, arent they the most beautiful melody?"

I close my eyes, feeling the hot water currents softly in my body, and hearing the sound of the waves who never ceased to wet the sand.

"No"

She kissed the base of my neck

"Your voice is"

"Clarisse la rue being lovestruck? Thats new"

I looked at her, smilling big, to wich she just answered "i dont have much time with you, let me be ridiculous"

Her kissed went up, from the base, to the middle, to my jaw, and then my lips.

Her arms were around my hips, pulling me closer to her, my arms automatically hugged her neck.

I couldnt describe a better feeling, being in the water, on the arms of the girl i liked, kissing her, being unafraid of living, of loving.

Everything was too much, and yet too less.

I wanted more, more love, more of her, more kisses, just more more more.

Her tongue was hot against mine, and i felt everything with such intensity, i could swear my legs became jello, if my body wasnt inside the water, i would be shaking.

Its siliy, we kissed a thousand times and it still feels like the first one, i still get nervous when she looks at me that way only she can do.

I deepened the kiss, and felt her hands lowering a few inches, please let all the fish be sleeping, they like gossip a little bit too much

There was wind, and still i felt hot, even more when her mouth got back to the base of my neck, bitting it gently.

My eyes closed with enjoyment, but they oppened it up so quickly as i heard a familiar sound, a too familiar sound.

"Um.. clari we should sto-"

"Oh please, i barely have any time with you anymore, just one more kiss... or two.. or three.."

She said going directly back to kissing my mouth

The chill in my spine did not went away, actually, it had gone bigger when i heard him clearing his throat and saying:

"Young demigods... dont you think its too late to be swimming?"

Me and Clarisse separate really fast, faces going white with the shock of being caught by him

"CHIRON! I...we... how are you? The family doing great?"

He just stared at us with a fatherly look

"Both of you, get dressed and go back to your own cabins.....and three days of clean duty"

"Yes chiron, we are sorry"

We say togheter

"And next time you two decide to sneak out, at least do at daylight, so we can notice if something happens to either of you...or at least in a place harder to catch because... seriously.. i've been alive centuries, did you really think i wouldnt check the beach?"

#lesbian #fanfic #clarisse pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue

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venuslore · 7 months

Text

𖥔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑 𖥔

summary ; eddie needs you and he needs you now.

pairing ; eddie munson × girlfriend!reader

notes ; nsfw, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, kinda public but not really, fingering. let me know if i forgot anything !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

when it came to you, eddie was needy – much like you were with him.

it didn’t take a whole lot to set you off, and the second that something stirred in the pit of your stomachs, you needed the other to relieve it. you craved eddie’s touch just as much as he craves yours, so much so that you had almost created your own language for when you needed attention.

eddie knew what it meant the second your bottom lip would jut forward slightly, big puppy dog eyes staring back at him and he would have to pretend like he wasn’t already imagining himself being buried deep inside you. that he wasn’t thinking about the way you looked down on your knees or with your skirt hitched up, ready for him to devour you.

sometimes you would be in the most inconvenient of places and feel his hand firmly grasp your ass, or slip under your shirt, and his lips would immediately be drawn to your neck. it was his way of telling you that he was in the mood.

though, you wouldn’t give in to him all the time, and mostly you enjoyed watching him squirm as you tell him just how badly you were needing him, showing him a little more skin or subtly flashing him, and movie night with steve and robin was no exception to this.

it took all but two seconds of eddie seeing the glint in your eye as you entered his trailer for him to know that he was already a goner. even more so when you waste no time in pressing your lips to his, your body leaning into him and almost knocking him off his feet. had steve and robin not already been there, you would’ve dragged him to his room before he could say a word.

“well, hello to you too,” his words are muffled against the fruity softness of your lips and he kicks the door shut behind you. his hands reach to caress either side of your head, and he pulls away only long enough to smile at you, lips quirking up at the corners, “how’s my girl?”

you draw in your bottom lip, attention wavering to steve and robin sitting on the floor not far behind him as they try to throw popcorn into the other’s mouth, “let’s just say... i don’t think i can wait an entire movie for us to be alone.”

you hadn't seen eddie for a couple of days and the heat between your legs was only growing with every second that he wasn’t inside you. the moisture had started to gather just from the mere sight of him and it wouldn’t be long until it became unbearable.

a sharp breath is all that leaves him, and he leans forward, “does the castle need conquering?”

“the castle is seconds away from falling to shambles,” you pull him even closer, pressing another kiss to his lips.

a thoughtful expression etches itself on eddie’s face, the gears turning in his head, and it takes every ounce of self-control for him not to come up with some excuse to get rid of steve and robin. but he couldn’t do that – no – they had been talking for weeks about how excited they were to watch the new scary movie that had come into the store.

“okay, lovebirds, get a room,” robin sneers, curling her upper lip with disgust at you both. “or better yet, let’s start the movie.”

eddie offers you his hand, a roguish grin on his face, but before he can pull you toward the sofa, you lean in close and whisper, “just so you know, i'm not wearing any underwear.”

“holy fuck,” he exhales, eyes blown wide as his mind is instantly flooded with the idea of you wearing nothing underneath your skirt – taunting him to know that he had such easy access to your sweet spot and all he had to do was take it.

for almost an hour, he tries to deflect his attention, tries to think of anything else, but even after steve had put the movie on and robin had turned off the lights, all he could think about was you and the way you felt wrapped around him.

he sits on the end of the sofa with you leaning into him, your head perched just beneath his chin and a thin blanket you had stolen from his room covering your body. steve and robin had opted to sit on the floor, the two of them practically inseparable as their eyes remain trained on the screen. you weren’t even entirely sure what was happening in the movie, other than some guy running around with a mask trying to kill people, because, like eddie, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.

then, as if he had read your mind, his hand that had been wrapped around you, resting across your chest, slowly inches beneath the blanket to slip under your shirt, cupping your breast. you exhale, making sure steve and robin wouldn’t notice, before looking up at eddie as he adorns a devilish grin now.

“apparently your underwear wasn’t the only thing you forget to wear tonight,” he whispers into your ear, referring to your lack of a bra, at the same time his thumb rolls over your nipple until its taunt. “just be quiet for me, okay?”

you nod rapidly, already desperate and aching for him, and he slowly starts to inch his hand further down your body. you quietly spread your legs open enough for his hand to fit between your thighs without drawing any attention to yourself, making it seem like you were just getting comfortable.

with steady movements, his fingers trail down to the band of your skirt, grasping at the thin material and pulling it up your thighs without trying to move the blanket. you stare up at him through your lashes, brows arching with anticipation, waiting for him to finally touch your sweet spot, when robin pops up from the floor to press pause on the movie.

you had never seen eddie move as fast as he does to remove his hand from your core, thankfully going unnoticed as your chest races from the adrenaline. he presses his lips to the back of your head, though you know he’s just trying to cover up his laughter from almost getting caught.

“do you guys wanna order the pizza now?” robin asks, unbeknownst to what had been going on right under their noses.

steve is the first to nod, his hair flopping as he does, “i could go for pizza.”

“yeah, we could – we could go for pizza,” you say, breathless and shaky as you do causing eddie to chuckle from behind you.

robin takes it upon herself to call up the restaurant and place the order for delivery while eddie jumps up with a stiffness to his steps that only you seemed to pick up on, “the pizza is on me, just let me find my wallet.”

he heads to his room, leaving you alone and vulnerable as you try to pull your skirt back down without making it obvious, ultimately pretending you were just fixing the blanket. though, the attention is diverted when eddie returns seconds later with empty hands.

“i can’t find my wallet. you haven’t seen it, have you?” he makes haste of searching around the coffee table and couch for it but to no avail, even robin and steve join in the search, neither of them wanting to pay for the pizza if they didn’t have to.

“did you check your room properly? you’re always losing stuff in there,” you shake your head, knowing that the likeliness of him losing it amongst his clothes and dnd stuff was far more likely than you cared to admit. he nods, sheepishly, lifting his shoulders into a shrug, and an exasperated sigh leaves your lips, “you two keep searching, we’ll be right back. c’mon dumb dumb, we’re gonna search your room.”

grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you pull eddie back to his room, where everything looked normal and unturned. as if he hadn’t even bothered to look for his wallet. and that’s when you see it... his wallet... sitting on his dresser as clear as day. it’s then that you realize it was all just a ploy to get you alone and it worked.

turning to eddie, you see that he’s already closed the door, a proud smirk plastered on his lips as he traipses across the room to meet you, “we have about three minutes before they start to wonder what’s taking us so long.”

“then stop wasting time,” you raise a curious brow as he slowly lifts you onto the dresser. his lips barely an inch away from your own.

he immediately takes your lips in a heated kiss, breathy and full of want, as his hands run along your body. one of yours gets tangled in his curls as the other glides down his torso and between his legs, much to his surprise. your hand is greeted with an aching erection.

the touch causes him to jut and he moans against your lips as your fingers begin to get to work, grasping and caressing his dick. his breathing is uneven, hot, and heavy against your face. his hands are quick to assist in unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down for his length to spring up, hitting you where you needed him the most.

your fingers begin to grow sticky the wetter his tip gets from your touch, and you steal a glance from him. his jaw is tensed, eyes almost closed, hazy with desire, and he groans your name lowly. he connects his lips with your neck, biting, sucking down on your skin, as he hitches your skirt up to reveal your cunt. so pretty and moist – just the way he liked it.

wrapping your legs around him, prompting him to line himself up against you, he slowly glides himself up and down before entering your needy little hole. you can’t help but gasp at his thickness and it gets harder and harder to control your breathing when he’s working you open, his teeth leaving marks of sweet pain over your tender skin.

deciding that he’s moving too slowly, you clasp your thighs harder around him, pushing him to fill you entirely. you have to throw your head into his neck to stop yourself from crying out, teeth clamping down on his skin while he waits a beat for you to adjust to his considerable size. and then he starts to move, slowly growing faster. his pace is rough and reckless – someone missed you.

you know you don’t have time to savor the pleasure, you needed to get to work before steve or robin came barging in. you start to push back against his rhythm, squeezing him until you feel his legs start to give way. he’s close.

his thrusts are fast, hard, making your body shake. he’s giving you all he’s got.

“y/n... you first... cum for me,” he whispers in your ear.

it only takes two more thrust for a wave of warmth to shower over you as he keeps pounding you through your orgasm. his arms tighten around you as his hips gyrate, pushing himself as deep as he can before filling your hole with his secretion.

“fuck, eds,” you cry out, though it’s muffled by his hand as he slowly pulls out of you, watching as his liquids spill from you and into a puddle on the dresser.

gently he helps clean you up and step back on the floor, pulling a pair of sweatpants from his drawer. kissing your trembling thighs, he removes your skirt and helps you slip on the pants.

“we should probably get back,” he snickers, offering you his hand and grabbing his wallet with the other.

as you exit the room, robin and steve seemed to have given up the search for eddie’s missing wallet. both of them laying on the floor throwing a ball to one another.

“did you find it?” steve asks as the two of you approach, and you snatch it from eddie’s hand to show that you did.

“i told him he just wasn’t looking well enough. found it in his dresser,” you faux roll your eyes and return to your seat on the couch with eddie.

robin eyes you up and down, “i take it you also found them in his dresser.” she points to the grey sweatpants you now adorned.

you open your mouth to answer at the same time the doorbell rings, saving you from the question. eddie simply tosses his wallet to steve and he and robin answer the door. when you look back to eddie, he has an all too familiar look in his eyes and you know that your night is far from over.

#— ꒰ ‧ ₊˚ vee daydreams ˖꙳‧ ꒱#— not sfw ! ᰔ #eddie munson ᰔ #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic

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