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gurugirl · 8 months

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Magic Spell | bfd!harry

best friend's dad!harry x reader

can be read as standalone

⛔️ this gif for inspo ⛔️ (gif is NSFW but no nudity)

Summary: The yearly neighborhood Halloween party at the Baylor mansion has plenty of hidden rooms for you and Harry to indulge in a little alone time without anyone ever knowing.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, cheating, lying, age gap, breeding kink

bfd!harry masterlist

“Harry you need to go!” You laughed as he lay stretched out on your bed, half his body covering yours, his face nuzzled against your breasts.

“No…” his words came out muffled against your skin.

He’d been so needy lately. Which was fine by you. Honestly. You were terribly needy too, but his daughter was going to be coming over any minute and even though his overnight bag was packed and ready to go, he was lying naked with you in your bed.

“Fae could be here any second! What will we say if she gets here and you’re still here?” You ran your fingers through his hair.

“I’ll hide in your closet or under your bed.”

You sighed and moved your hands down to his face, smushing his cheeks and lifting upward so he had to look at you, “Harry…” you warned. But he was so goddamn cute you cracked a smile. He was so soft and so sweet. “I love you so much but you have to go.”

You felt Harry swallow and watched as he pouted, “I know.”

Finally, you both sat up. You also needed to use the bathroom and get dressed yourself. You still smelled of sex and Harry’s cologne. You could easily find an excuse for why you were just now showering once Fae arrived but what kind of excuse could you have if you let her father out of your apartment just as she was just getting there?

You guess you had started it. The reason why you were both naked and freshly fucked. The intention was that Harry would wake up and you two would have some coffee and then he’d leave long before Fae was due to arrive.

But instead of any of that, you felt his morning wood poking into your bottom like a tempting little snack you couldn’t resist taking a bite of. You ground your bottom over him and pulled his tired arm over your middle and brought his fingers up to your mouth, kissing the tip of each one until he woke up moaning and rubbing himself against you, “You know I have to fuck you now, right?” His first words of the day spoke into your ear.

He pulled you in tighter to his chest and planted his lips on the back of your neck as he slid his hand downward to your naked pussy and found your clit right away. Like he always did. Like he owned your body and knew every little crevice blindfolded.

And waking up in Harry’s arms, him spooning behind you with his big erection slotted perfectly between your ass cheeks was bound to turn you on. So maybe it wasn’t fully your fault. You were powerless to him. You would have had to have been crazy to not act on it a little.

But that all turned into Harry flipping you to your tummy and eating you out from behind. His tongue lapped at your entrance and up to your anus over and over again. And he went in gently and slowly too, his wet tongue dragging up and down, kissing and licking, until you were a sicky, moaning, wiggling, begging mess.

And of course, when Harry fucked you, it was never something to quickly get you off. He took his time with you and played with you for a while. After pushing you over to your back and spreading your legs for himself he thumbed at your clit until you were crying and whining.

So he finally gave you what you wanted.

Thrusting himself in deeply then pulling out slowly, slipping himself over your pussy, “What is it, baby? Need me back in?” All that as if he didn’t need to get going.

His voice was even sexier than normal in the mornings. Deeper, raspier.

There was nothing like morning sex with Harry. Somehow it felt more tender. Like your nerve endings were more receptive to touch and his thick prick moving within your wet, cushiony walls felt like heaven. In fact, the only time you’d ever come without a little clitoral stimulation in your entire life was morning sex with Harry once.

And when you both came, finally after you’d spent nearly an hour in your bed with Harry pulling himself out and teasing you over and over again, it was magic. Truly. You saw stars and Harry cried out so loud when he fucked himself into you and came, his cock throbbing and pumping his come inside you.

You had wrapped your arms around him and pulled him down to your chest to breathe a bit and lay together before he had to go. His cock still twitching inside of you. He kissed you and rubbed his nose against yours softly, “You have me under a magic spell don’t you?”

He left just in time, but barely. You couldn’t believe he’d been so careless, but you’d been pretty careless just the same.

He kissed you once more at the door before quickly making his way to the stairs to head down to the parking lot, “See you tonight, baby!” He called over his shoulder.

. . .

“So tell me who you’ve been seeing,” Fae said without an ounce of humor, her hands on the steering wheel as she drove you both down the street.

“Uhm… what?” You turned to look at your best friend in confusion. You knew she was nosy and perceptive but how–

“I can just tell,” she quickly glanced at you before looking back to the street, “you’re suddenly busy way more than usual, and then… what was that two weeks ago when I called you to talk about my dad and mom being separated?”

You swallowed and looked out your window. What the fuck were you gonna tell her?

“It’s just some guy. He’s been fun. Nothing serious, though,” you cringed inwardly as you looked over at Fae. It was a lie but you had to give her something. Denying it completely would have made things worse.

She nodded, “Nothing serious. Okay maybe… but is he like, loaded or something?”

“Why would you think he’s loaded?” You laughed. But you actually didn’t think the direction your conversation had taken was funny at all. In fact, you were freaking out.

“I see those bouquets of fresh flowers you keep getting. And your new earrings? Also, are you not gonna tell me what happened when I called you that night? You were like in such a hurry to get off the phone.”

You sighed and looked down at your lap. You were dressed up as a femme ghost. A short gauzy, flowy, white dress with a hood. The sleeves draped off your shoulders and the hem of the dress was jagged and torn-looking, showing off most of your legs. You’d painted your eyelids black and wore black lipstick.

Every year the Baylors held a huge neighborhood party. Their mansion was massive and they always went all out. And it just so happened that their house was in the Styles’ neighborhood. You’d been going with the Styles every Halloween since high school. It was rarely ever on the day of Halloween but usually on the Friday before. But this time it was on Friday the 13th.

“Well… I really didn’t feel well that night and I don’t know. I guess he’s doing pretty well for himself,” you lifted your hand up to brush your fingers over the earrings Harry had bought you. They were jewel clusters that looked like little, sparkly, flower studs on your ears.

“We’ll finish this conversation later. But you are not off the hook.” Fae said as she parked her car on the street in front of her parent’s house. You sighed in relief. You were glad to have the conversation tabled. Even if just for now.

The Baylor’s house was an easy walk to the opposite street. The entire front yard was decorated and to get to the house you had to go through a maze of six-foot-high stacked hay the moment you passed through the tall gates that surrounded the property. The sun was down and there was loud music playing out into the street. Black lights, smoke machines, people laughing…

“This maze is crazy!” Fae spoke excitedly as you both wound your way toward the house. Fae was dressed up as a killer clown. Her costume was actually a bit creepy with the face paint and the gray wig with red popping through. She had fake blood all over her clown outfit and a machete (plastic) in hand. You both got ready together at your apartment. You wondered how long she’d had a clue that you’d been seeing someone.

When you finally arrived at the entrance of the house Mrs. Baylor, dressed as Dolly Parton with an obnoxiously huge blond wig, was at the front greeting everyone, a glass in hand. When she saw you and Fae she smiled at gestured for you to come closer.

“Girls! So good to see you! Glad you could make it! Help yourself to anything you’d like to drink in the kitchen, everything is set up. We also have a bartender if you don’t want to make your own. There are snacks. A dance floor. Oh! And your parents are already here, Fae.”

You took a deep breath. You and Harry had decided to keep your distance at the party. Because lately, every time you got near one another, even with Fae present, it was harder and harder not to be obvious. And with Mrs. Styles suspicious of him cheating (or something), then with Fae calling you out for dating someone… It would be best to not have any contact.

And you could handle that. You’d just had him over that morning. What was one evening of ignoring one another?

You and Fae both asked for a drink from the bartender as you munched on little tomato toasts. Everyone at the party was dressed as something or another. The music was loud and the space was crowded. It seemed like there were more people in attendance than ever.

You knew what Harry was dressing up as. You searched the room, trying not to be too obvious that you were looking for anyone in particular. He told you that he would be going as, “Harry Potter, but sexy.” You didn’t know what that meant but you did understand why he thought it was so funny to be dressed as Harry Potter after he explained.

“Because my name is Harry. Get it?” He grinned as he took a large bite of the pizza he held in his hand.

“Harry Potter because your name is Harry? You’re so… clever?” You teased and Harry let out a “heeey” before tackling you down to your couch, “Why’s that so funny? It is clever in fact!”

“It’s so genius. You’re really so smart. Everyone’s gonna be amazed!” You laughed as you spoke dramatically before Harry started tickling your ribs and peeling your shirt upward.

Needless to say, you two soon forgot all about costume talk once he flipped you over and spanked you playfully.

“Jenna’s here!” Fae whisper-shouted into your ear as she handed you your drink.

You followed her gaze and sure enough. There she was. Jenna was a bitch. Not someone you liked being around. But she lived in the neighborhood so she was always invited to the big neighborhood parties thrown at the Baylor’s.

“God, what is she wearing? It’s like… nothing…” Fae scoffed as she pulled you into a different room away from Jenna. You couldn’t tell what Jenna intended to be. She was wearing a bikini with little mouse ears on her head and bright red lips. Honestly, it looked like she just wanted an excuse to wear a bikini for Halloween.

The moment you stepped into the room off the kitchen you spotted your sexy Harry Potter.

And he was quite sexy. He wasn’t wrong about that part.

Black slacks, a white button-up shirt, and a red tie with yellow diagonal stripes. His shirt was barely buttoned, though, which is what you assumed he meant by sexy. And since his shirt wasn’t fully buttoned his tie was loose. You could see his pecs and down to the top of his butterfly tattoo. He was wearing glasses, though you noted they were not the round wire-framed ones Harry Potter is famous for. All complete with a plastic wand in hand.

He was talking to a few men, all had glasses with some kind of liquor. You spotted Mrs. Styles on the other side of the room with her sister and another woman chatting.

You knew that she and Harry still hadn’t quite worked things out. She was still staying with her sister but she did arrive at the party with Harry (you knew this because he told you). You wondered if they talked alone before coming. Wondered if things felt very awkward between them still or if Mrs. Styles was working on trying to be patient with him. Or maybe she was already at the house when he arrived and she asked him where he’d been? And why he needed to shower right away (because he certainly hadn’t had the chance to shower before he left your apartment that morning).

When he finally saw you he took a sip of whatever was in his glass, whisky it appeared, and then grinned before looking back at the man he was speaking to. You looked down at your nude platform heels and beamed widely. You didn't want anyone to see you randomly smiling like an idiot.

Eventually, you and Fae found yourselves on the dance floor laughing, slightly tipsy. You had to cut yourself off, though, because you still had to drive home. You had a morning shift at the restaurant, unfortunately, and Fae told you to use her car since you were going to be picking her up after your shift for a late lunch anyway. She planned on staying at her dad’s house.

Your dancing was suddenly interrupted by Jenna and another girl, “Fae, isn’t that your dad?”

You both looked in the direction Jenna was gesturing with her chin toward Harry who was dancing like a goofball. Some of the guys he’d been talking to were moving to the beat and laughing as Harry was entertaining them with his “graceful” moves. The man just did not care what people thought of him as long as he got a laugh.

“Yeah. So?” Fae stopped swaying her hips and turned back toward Jenna.

“He’s single right?” Jenna laughed and took another sip of her drink.

Fae scoffed and looked at you with shock and then back to Jenna, “No. He’s not. He’s married to my mother. What is it that you’re getting at here?”

Now you weren’t dancing anymore as you looked between Jenna and Fae. Fae and Jenna had long been enemies. When they were younger Fae won an art competition that Jenna was part of. Jenna didn’t even place but she hated Fae after that. And then in their senior year of high school, Fae’s boyfriend was caught cheating on her with none other than Jenna. And Fae retaliated by egging Jenna’s car inside and out. And uncooked egg on a black car in the summer heat leaves irreversible damage. They even had to get the parents involved. It was a whole fiasco.

“Chill the fuck out. I just asked a question. Jesus. It’s like you’re always pissed or something.”

Fae stepped up closer to Jenna, “I’m not the one asking about a married man. Can you please leave? We were having fun before you interrupted us with your dumb-ass question.”

Jenna grinned and took another sip of her drink, “I heard he and your mother were having issues and I just assumed they were headed toward divorce if not already. My bad,” she leaned in closer, “but between us ladies, just because he’s married doesn’t mean he’s not a typical man with needs.” And with that, she turned and walked away with her sidekick in tow.

“Fucking bitch!” Fae spoke under her breath.

You took her arm, “She’s just trying to get a rise out of you. Ignore her. She’s dumb.”

“Yeah. I know she’s dumb. But I wouldn’t put it past her to try something. We both know how she is.”

You both looked toward where Jenna and her friend were headed and you could see she was aimed directly at Harry. This time, you were about to throw the girl down onto the floor as you let your feet carry you toward them because when you saw her put her grubby hand on Harry’s shoulder to get his attention it had you seeing red.

Fae pulled at Jenna and began reaming into her, “What is your problem?!” She went off as Jenna was pushed away from Harry and you stood there fuming as you watched the pair.

Harry’s smirk slowly grew wider as he noticed your scowl, “You okay, Y/n?” But he knew what you were upset about.

You looked up at him and the anger you were feeling at some other girl trying for your man (even though you couldn’t claim him as your man) all but dissipated. His handsome face had you immediately feeling better.

“Just can’t stand that chick,” You said as you looked from where Fae and Jenna were then back to Harry.

He licked his lips and you saw him look around the room quickly before bringing his gaze back to yours, “So this mansion is huge, isn’t it?”

His smile was cheeky. You could read him like the back of your hand as you grinned at him.

“It sure is.”

“Wonder what’s upstairs? Probably a bunch of empty rooms not being used. Rooms with beds. Locks on doors…” he spoke quietly toward you before swiveling his head around again to check if anyone was watching you.

You swallowed and nodded, “I’m certain there are.”

Harry wetted his strawberry lips with his tongue, “Be a good girl for me and go find us a hidden room and text me. Just wanna kiss you a little.”

It felt like an illegal mission. You snuck up the stairs and continually looked behind yourself to make sure no one had seen you. Luckily the staircase wasn’t in the main room so there weren’t any spectators to spot you. At least you hoped not.

The hallway was dimly lit and there were many rooms. Some of the doors were open and some were closed. Your heart raced as you walked to the furthest part of the hallway in search of a room that didn’t belong to anyone. A spot where you and Harry wouldn’t be discovered.

The first door you opened you put up a little prayer that no one was inside. You honestly didn’t know what you’d find, but the room was off the main hallway and at the back. It felt like a spot that wouldn’t be used for a master bedroom or often used at all.

It appeared to be a type of ‘catch-all’ room. There was a desk but it was bare. A couch against the wall with a cover over it. A lamp in the corner. A bed that was bare of sheets and pillows, just a mattress. Some boxes in another corner. It felt like the perfect room for a sneaky kiss with Harry.

You texted Harry which room you were in and then walked around toward the desk. Opening the drawers revealed them to be completely empty. The boxes in the corner were filled with blankets, sheets, and linens.

You walked toward the couch and kneed up on it to look out the window behind. It faced the side of the lot but you could see a few people outside smoking and drinking. You could even hear some laughter.

Suddenly you heard the door open slowly and turned just as Harry was stepping in and closing the door behind himself.

Standing from the couch, and as if in a cheesy romantic drama, you both quickly walked toward one another and pasted your lips together, embracing tightly.

Harry’s chest was on display as you slid your hands over his pecs and then grabbed at his loose tie, “This is hot, Harry. You look really good in this.”

He breathed out a laugh and began to step you backward toward the couch, “So do you. You could wear a garbage bag and still look like the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he grabbed your hips and turned you as he sat down and pulled you with him, your thighs spreading to straddle his lap.

You both laughed at the collapse into the couch.

“Just needed to hold you. Makes me feel better,” he spoke quietly as he rubbed his hands up and down your arms.

“Was she at the house when you got home?” You knew you shouldn’t ask. Your timing was awful but you felt like you needed to know. Wanted some idea of where he was mentally. And with his comment about feeling better, it made you wonder.

Harry sighed and placed his hands on your thighs, “Let’s not talk about that right now. Just want to enjoy my girl.”

You opened your mouth to respond but were quieted as soon as Harry’s lips met yours again. Harry smoothed his hands down your back and cupped your bottom into his palms before squeezing. He moaned into your mouth and you felt the fabric of your short, gauzy dress lift upward until his hands were on your naked bottom.

You were wearing a nude thong to which he slid his finger under the fabric that covered the space between your cheeks and you laughed.

Harry backed from the kiss, “My baby. Fuck, Y/n. Wish we could just dance and make out in front of everyone down there. Not give a fuck…” he leaned in and attached his lips to your neck and you gasped when he nudged at your anus with his finger, circling it softly before squeezing your ass cheeks again. The faux glasses he was wearing were sort of getting in the way so you lifted your hands to pull them off, as hot as they looked on him.

You leaned your neck back for his access as he worked his way down the front of your throat and to your clavicle before pushing your top down and revealing your tits. You weren’t wearing a bra. His mouth covered your right breast, lapping and sucking as you put your hands behind you to grasp onto his thighs.

He switched to your left breast and moaned before looking up at you. You were staring toward the ceiling with your lips parted at his soft lips on your tits.

Suddenly he parted from your breasts and let go of you. You looked down toward where his hands had moved and saw him undoing his buckle and his pants.

You grinned, “Thought you just wanted to kiss, Harry.”

Harry laughed and shook his head, “I can tell you need to be fucked, honey. Just gonna give you what you need.”

When he unzipped his pants he kept his erection tucked into his underwear as he pushed your skirt up to your hips and scooted himself out a little, giving you more space. He leaned his back into the cushion and brushed his fingers up your thighs then looked up at you as he pulled the crotch of your panties to the side of your pussy and ran his finger through your labia gently, immediately coating his fingers.

You smiled at him and bit your lip when he groaned and then quickly pushed his underwear down and pulled his pants lower to properly pull his cock out.

You cooed as you wrapped your hand around him and began to pump him. He was hard and warm like always. You loved his cock so much. It was as if every time he brought it out you lost all your brain cells and only wanted to be used by him. However, he needed. A place for him to come and a wet hole to fuck. You couldn’t say you’d ever felt that way about any guy you’d ever slept with, always wanting to have some appearance of control. But with Harry? He made you feel safe which translated to you feeling vulnerable out of your mind desperate for him.

You both stared at one another as you stroked his long cock and he circled over your clit. You wiggled your hips as you scooted yourself in closer, lifting your bum off of his lap slightly so you could press yourself into his hand.

Harry laughed, “Need something baby? Tell me what you want.”

You rolled your eyes and puffed out a laugh as Harry moved his fingers from your clit to your face and you rubbed your wet pussy onto his cock with a moan, writhing your hips up and down pathetically, “You already said what you were gonna do…”

Harry tsk’d at you and put his hands on your chin, “Take what you need then. Go on. Get yourself off.”

You shook your head and chuckled, “You don’t need it, too?”

“Baby, you better move fast. People are gonna start wondering where we are.”

You realized he was right. Though he was the one playing games, trying to make it look like you were the one who was desperate, you had no time to waste.

You angled yourself up and lifted your hips, sticking his wide fleshy crown at your entrance. One hand on his shoulder, your other keeping his heavy cock in place as you pushed down over him.

Sparkles and electric light filled your body as you smoothed him inside of you. Slowly you sunk down and lifted up, then back down to coat him fully.

Harry kept one hand on your bottom and his other at your thigh as he groaned softly, “Fuck yes…”

You connected your mouths when you first began to ride him leisurely to keep your pitiful sounds to a minimum. Harry’s thickness always astonished you. He was fun to ride for sure, but it was work with how big he was. Long and wide.

“Oh god, Harry…” you breathed against his lips as he began to thrust into you from his spot below. He planted his feet flat onto the floor and moved his hips upward, nudging his tip into your tummy over and over again.

You bit your lip as you looked down between where you were connected. His cock was soaked, the hair at his base was going to take your scent with him until he showered. The gushy little sounds of your wet pussy being stuffed always sounded so lewd. The springs in the couch were creaking gently with your rhythm.

You leaned yourself back further, putting your hands onto his thighs when he began bucking his hips up into you, fucking you harder and making you jolt upward at each thrust.

You were breathing heavily, doing your best to keep your moans to a minimum but to your surprise, Harry was being quite vocal despite the circumstances.

His choked groans and gasps in the room were so sexy and the way he was fucking you felt so good you almost didn’t care if anyone did hear you.

Harry leaned in to attach his lips back onto your tits in an attempt to keep himself quiet but he was fucking into you so hard he had to bob his head up and down with your body to keep your breasts in his mouth.

Besides the moaning and the squeak of the couch, the sound of wet skin slapping together only grew louder the more muscle he put into his movements.

The friction from how quickly and how deeply he was fucking into you had your head spinning and you cried out, “Oh shit!” as he hit a particularly achy little spot on your insides.

Harry’s cock moved along your creamy walls, slipping in deep and then pulling out slightly, as your tits bounced from his thrusts.

You hadn’t meant to be so loud but Harry didn’t seem to be bothered by it when he coughed out a loud moan of his own, “S’that feel good, baby?”

“God… Fuck! Yes, Harry…” you gasped your words between breaths.

“Yeah? I can tell, baby. Feels so good doesn’t it? Love having your pussy split in half like this? Love getting fucked and stuffed with my come?”

Harry’s hips were glued to yours now. You were sat flush over him, achy and deep, rolling your pelvis downward over him for friction on your clit.

“Yes, Harry,” your words were moaned quietly, “Love your come,” you kept your eyes pinned to his.

“Fuck. Such a pretty fertile pussy I get to fill up whenever I want. Get to dump my come inside of you and get you pregnant. Yeah?” You were nodding your head yes at his words as you panted, “Want to take you off birth control. Make you all mine.”

“I’m gonna come, Harry… oh my god!”

Harry groaned when you hastened your pace with your hips and you gripped his shoulders tight. The sloppy wet noise between you two and Harry’s filthy words were ringing in your ear.

God, you’d do anything he asked. If that’s what he really wanted, well you’d have his babies. Fuck you were crazy for thinking it but you would. And just that thought alone had you gripping his cock tight as you spasmed over him in pulses.

Harry dropped his mouth open and panted loudly as he scrunched his face and lathered your walls and your guts with his hot come. He held you down over his cock and you held in the squeal you wanted to let out as you gasped and watched his face as he came unglued.

He was loud. He was being more vocal than maybe ever. Which was surprising given that you were in a house (well a mansion) with nearly 100 other people, two of them being his wife and his daughter who could go searching for either of you at any minute if they weren’t already.

When Harry had begun to slow his breathing he opened his eyes to see you already watching him.

“You came really hard, Harry,” you smirked. As much as he acted like you were the one who needed something, you knew he always needed it as much as you did.

“Fuck. I know. That’s what you do to me.”

You laughed, “But you were extra loud just then. Like, there are people here.”

You slid off of his lap and he helped steady you before standing up himself. You were both pretty much put together. Harry just had to do his pants back up, put his glasses back on, and smooth out his hair.

While you only needed to find a bathroom to wipe up.

You stood to your tip toes to kiss his lips.

“This is the second really risky thing we’ve done today.” You looked at him with your brows raised, “What’s gotten into you?”

Harry grinned at you lovingly as he tilted his head and threaded his finger through yours, “Couldn’t say. All I know is you’ve got me under some kind of magic spell.”

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munson-blurbs · 3 months

Text

Summary: An evening in the Wheeler basement reveals what you've been trying to deny about your best friend, and longtime crush, Eddie.

WC: 827

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, unrequited love, mention of sex. You've been warned.

Eddie “Speak First, Think Later” Munson struck again.

A rainy spring Saturday had the Hellfire Club gathered for an impromptu meeting in the Wheeler basement. Eddie whipped out a campaign that he’d been saving, somehow just as detail-rich as the ones he’d meticulously prepared for regular Friday sessions. It had gone on for hours until Dustin, the last player standing, rolled to cast a fireball and was met with utter failure.

“Damn, and here I thought this was one of my weaker ones.” Eddie popped a sour cream and onion chip in his mouth, crunching down with a triumphant grin. “Looks like I’m unstoppable. Impenetrable. Invincible, even.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Gareth muttered, but there was no missing his own smile as he added, “tell that to Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chrissy Cunningham? Your stomach dropped at the mention of her name. You’d noticed him glancing over at her table in the cafeteria, and saw him at her locker a few times, but that didn’t mean…

Jeff snorted. “He can’t tell her anything without looking like a total moron. ‘H-Hey, Chrissy. Nice hair, um, thing.’”

“I do not sound like that, asshole.”

“Dude, you said that exact sentence in algebra yesterday. It was a direct quote.”

Your throat was scratchy from shouting during the game, but you cleared it and forced yourself to speak. “What’s going on with Chrissy?”

Grant ignored the glare that Eddie preemptively gave the rest of the guys. “Our fearless leader is smitten with the Queen of Hawkins High,” he teased. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas all underscored his statement with obnoxious kissy noises.

“Shut up!” Eddie yelled, but it only further spurred them on.

“Don’t be shy,” Dustin said through his laughter. “Everyone knows you loooooove her!”

You didn’t. Okay, maybe a part of you did, but your optimism—or perhaps naivety—dismissed the idea. Because if he loved Chrissy, that meant he didn’t love you. It meant the long hugs and arms slung over your shoulder were platonic. That the deep conversations late into the night were simply between friends.

“I don’t love her,” Eddie retorted, his pinkening cheeks giving him away. “I just think she’s cute, okay?”

“Cute?” Lucas said. He rolled his eyes. “Puppies are cute. Kittens are cute. Babies are—”

“Fine, I think she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life!” Eddie snapped, but a soft smile tugged at the ends of his lips. “Are you idiots happy now?”

The most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life. In his life.

Happy? You were the farthest thing from happy.

Your eyes blurred with tears, blinking them back and timing a sniffle with the crinkling of the chip bag as Mike passed it to Lucas. If you could pull yourself together, you could excuse yourself before you broke down completely.

“Dude.” Jeff looked at Eddie, pulling his gaze to you despite your reluctance to even glance his way. “She’s a girl.”

“Oh, shit.” Eddie chuckled, snagging his Mountain Dew can from the snack table and taking an extended swig. “It’s not like I’m gonna have sex with my best friend, though.”

Gareth feigned a pout. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not having sex with you either.”

You watched as Eddie finished his soda, crushing the can in his fist and tossing it at the drummer’s curly mop of hair.

It’s not like I’m gonna have sex with my best friend.

Not even a pause. Not a moment of consideration. Nothing close to the movie-esque scene where the boy realized that the girl of his dreams had been right in front of him the whole time.

Mustering up a half-smile, you pushed yourself off of the couch. “I’m gonna head home. I’m pretty beat.”

Beat. Broken. Destroyed. Shattered.

Eddie sat up, brushing Lays crumbs onto his jeans and leaving them shiny with oily residue. “Let me drive you,” he offered.

You shook your head. “N-No, I wanna walk.”

“It’s raining,” he protested.

“It’s fine.”

That may have been the first time you’d declined the chance to spend time alone with him. You lived for the days you’d climb into the passenger seat of his van after Hellfire, resting your head against the window as it vibrated from the bass of the radio speakers.

Eddie shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, turning his attention back to the guys.

He didn’t come after you. You heard his laughter echoing around the basement as you ascended the stairs, barely managing to close the door before you burst into tears.

Everything you wanted Eddie to feel for you, he felt for Chrissy. The thought of watching his eyes follow her around the cafeteria on Monday roiled a sickness within you.

You wished you’d never showed up to the Wheelers’ today. Although it wouldn’t have changed Eddie’s love for Chrissy—or his lack of love for you—at least you could continue pretending that there was hope.

Now, you had nothing but a broken heart.

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #angst #hurt/no comfort

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hedonists-den · 22 days

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POV: Your eating habits and your weight have gotten so unbelievably out of control lately that I think it's about time I give you a wake-up call in the form of some teasing and shaming.

⚠️ It gets a little mean, so... ⚠️

Hope you enjoy! 😇

TRANSCRIPT:

What is it? Is there something you need to tell me? You overate again... Well, I'm not surprised. Is it really overeating if you do it every time you sit down and glut yourself like you’re trying to win some prize? No, it's just the norm for fatasses like you. Shameless, self-indulgent gluttony is just the way it is for you. You should be ashamed. You should be desperately searching for a way to stop yourself. What kind of person shovels food in their face the way you do? What kind of person lets themselves get so obese that they can’t do basic things without getting winded?

I don’t imagine you even have any excuse for what you're doing to yourself. Imagine what you could look like if you weren't so busy gorging yourself with greasy food and carbs every chance you get. It's fucking obscene. And do I really need to bring up your sweets addiction? I swear, at this point, you might as well just have me hook a funnel up to your greedy mouth and pour syrup down your throat.

Wait…please don’t tell me…do you actually think about that? What, are you just going to eat and eat and eat until you can barely waddle from room to room? Have me stuff you until all that weight that you keep piling on ripples with every lumbering step that you take? Is that what you want, fatty? This huge, heavy-breathing, mound of embarrassing flab that can barely maneuver around your own home? If you keep this shit up, you’ll be there faster than all those DoorDash deliveries you keep getting every fucking day.

At this point, I’m just morbidly curious about what goes on inside your head that justifies letting yourself become so shockingly, grotesquely obese. I mean, look at what a shameless blob you are…rolls stacked on top of each other like pancakes, each one covered in stretch marks, with a hanging gut that takes over your lap, the flab on your arms keeping them pinned to your sides. God, every inch of your body is overflowing with fat. You eat so many goddamn calories, it looks like you're in a near-constant state of stretching and expanding. How can you not notice that your body is screaming at you to stop being such a fucking pig?

Is there even a point in trying to shame you for all of this? You’re obviously not going to change one thing about the way you’re ruining yourself. All you’re going to do, as soon as you can, is find the next thing to stuff your face with. So, what is it going to be this time, tubby? Burgers? Pizza? Few boxes of snack cakes? Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past you to get all three, the way that I’ve seen you eat. You clearly don’t have any self-control, so, fuck it, why not? Just hork down more calories until your body can barely handle it. Stuff your bottomless pit of a stomach every chance that you get. Even after every other sign is telling you to stop.

You know what? I don’t think anything can help you now. You are too far gone, and there’s no way you’re coming back from this. You’re going to be half a metric ton of pure blubber soon enough. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself for what a hopeless, greedy, wobbling tub of lard that you are. So just lay back and grab another snack, why don’t you?

#just feeder things #fa audio #feedism.#weight gain #wg kink

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roosterforme · 7 months

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Adult Education Part 9 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica visits Beta Brewing and meets one of Bradley Bradshaw's former fraternity brothers. He's flirtatious, and she's surprised by it. But nothing surprises her as much as the way Jake can be so sweet and sexy at the same time. But she doesn't know he's only ever been like this for her.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, 18+

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Bradley Bradshaw helped Jessica climb up into the backseat of the idling vintage Ford Bronco with her notebook, a pen and her overnight bag. He somehow looked even more handsome in jeans and a tie dyed shirt with a backwards cap than he did in his uniform. "I can't thank you enough for doing this," she said as he released her hand and smiled.

"It's nothing," he replied casually with a shrug of his broad shoulders before closing the door. But it was definitely something to Jessica. It had been a very long time since she had friends. She watched as he climbed back into the driver's seat and leaned over to accept a kiss from his wife. His handsome cheeks flushed a little bit as he cleared his throat and asked, "Ready to hit the road?"

"Yes," Jessica said as she buckled in for the half hour drive up to Beta Brewing. Advanced Calculus was turned around in the front seat, handing her a snack box filled with mixed berries and artisan cheeses.

"Bradley packed these for us," she said with a grin as she held up a second one. Sure enough he was blushing a little more now.

"Thank you," Jessica gushed, biting into a ripe raspberry and thinking about what Jake might be cooking for dinner later tonight. She'd never eaten this well in her entire adult life.

"It's nothing," Bradley said again as he turned onto the highway. "So how much beer do you think you'll need for this fundraiser?"

"At least two kegs?" Jessica said as she ate some of the cheese that was practically melting on her tongue. "More than that will kill my thousand dollar budget."

"I think you're better off with three," Advanced Calculus said. "I know you don't have a final headcount yet, but with the way Bradley and Jake drink, you'll run out with just two."

Bradley laughed. "You really think Jake and I could drink an entire keg of beer ourselves?"

"The two of you drank the equivalent of a keg of champagne on New Year's Eve," his wife replied easily as she fed him a berry.

"Ah yes," he rasped, "the inception of Dr. Tits." Jessica laughed as Advanced Calculus smacked his shoulder. Bradley looked in the rearview mirror and asked, "You know about Dr. Tits?"

"Yes," Jessica replied, recalling the story of drunk Jake and the low cut dress. Of course Advanced Calculus had been a good sport about it.

"And you still want to date Jake Seresin? He's a goddamn menace."

"He's actually much less annoying since he met Jessica," he wife remarked.

"Shit. You're right," Bradley mumbled. "Okay, you actually have to date him. You're never allowed to break up with him either."

After that, Jessica got some inside scoop and funny stories about her boyfriend. Apparently he tried to sleep behind the bar at their Navy hangout on his birthday last year. And at Starbucks, he likes to give Hungman as his name just to see if the baristas will say it, but at least he leaves them a nice tip for their troubles. And neither Bradley nor his wife could ever remember Jake having a girlfriend since he graduated from the Naval Academy.

"Here we are," Bradley said as he pulled into a parking lot right next to a beautiful cliffside beach. Beta Brewing was written in huge graffiti lettering on the side of an industrial building. Bradley wrapped his arm around his wife and headed toward a door off to the side with a sign that said Tap Room.

Jessica followed behind them and asked, "What was your friend's name again?" She was suddenly very nervous that she was going to sound like an idiot asking for a deal on this guy's designer beer.

"Dev Borah," Bradley said, pulling the door open for the two women to go first.

"He's nice," his wife promised. "You'll like him."

Jessica took a few steps into the bar area that smelled delicious and was decorated like a tasteful fraternity house. "We open at noon!" boomed a voice from the long bartop. "Sorry!"

Bradley chuckled and said, "That's bullshit. You can't turn away a Beta Gamma brother."

"Oh shit!" the other man with dark hair and a big, beaming smile said as he looked up and slammed his palm down on the countertop. "Bradshaw! I completely forgot you were coming up today."

Jessica watched as Dev popped up from behind the bar and gave Bradley some weird, elaborate handshake before they both started laughing. "It's good to see you man. Been a few months," Dev said, eyeing up Brashaw's wife. "And it's honestly rude of you to try to keep this one away from me."

"Hi, Dev," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"I still can't believe the two of you got married. That's fucking wild," Dev replied before focusing his attention on Jessica. A crooked smile appeared on his lips, the kind that let her know he would have been quite a handful when he was in college. "And you're Jessica?" he asked, reaching out to shake hands with her. "Damn. I've gotta get down to San Diego more often."

She laughed and shook his hand. Maybe she didn't have anything to be nervous about after all. This man seemed like a goof as he took the three of them on a tour of the brewery and back into the areas he assured her were top secret.

He also seemed to understand the entire process involved here. He answered all of their questions about brewing beer and the business end of things. "We're shipping as far as Pennsylvania now," he said when Jessica asked about distribution. "Making it hard for me to crunch all the numbers myself, but I'm really particular about who I let in on the details." When he stopped in front of an industrial looking door, he punched a code into the keypad and said, "Let's dip into my personal stash."

The room was his office, and it was massive with floor to ceiling windows and a view of the cliffs and the beach. Jessica watched him open a stainless steel refrigerator and select a few bottles and cans from his collection and line them up on his glossy desk. "This is incredible," she remarked, looking out the window while Bradshaw gazed longingly into his wife's eyes and said something about only drinking the good beers. "Your whole setup is incredible."

"Thanks," Dev said as he opened a bottle of beer called Greek Week and handed it to her. "Started the whole thing myself about seven years ago."

The beer was absolutely delicious, and Jessica wondered if she could buy a six pack or something to take to Jake's place. "I like this beer. Can I get it in a keg? For that event I believe Bradley mentioned to you?"

Dev smiled and said, "We don't keg this one. It's a limited release of 500 bottles."

She almost choked on it. "500 bottles and you're letting me have one? Are you insane?"

His laughter was contagious, because soon she was laughing too. "You can have one. His wife can too, if she wants. But Bradshaw gets one of the regular beers. That's what he gets for never helping me with my homework. That asshole graduated top of our fraternity."

"Yeah, I absolutely did," Bradley said, winking at his wife as Dev handed him a different beer. "Sugar made sure I spent plenty of time in the library. Studying." His wife looked a little bashful, but she accepted her own bottle of the limited release Greek Week beer and sipped it.

"If you want kegs," Dev said, "we can walk through the warehouse so you can see what's available. I have a few brews that were aged in barrels and a few others as well right now. You can try some samples in the tap room and take whichever kegs you want."

Jessica nodded and finished her beer. "Sounds great. I'll probably need three kegs, but I have a very limited budget, so two might have to work."

Dev just waved her off. "We'll talk about it down there." He led the way through a labyrinth of hallways and down an elevator to the warehouse. "Careful," he told Jessica with a wink as he held a door open for her. "Usually I don't let anyone in here with high heels, but I don't think I could tell you no to anything you wanted to do."

Jessica looked down at her jeans and heels and then back up at him. "I'll be extra careful."

"Let me know if you need to hold my hand," he said with that same grin before leading the way toward rows and rows of kegs where a handful of employees were working. "Point out the three you want unless you want to taste them first."

"I've tried all of them," Bradley told Jessica. "There's no such thing as a bad beer made at Beta. They are all good."

She didn't want to cause any extra work for anyone. She just wanted the event to be successful which meant staying under budget. "Can I just take three of your least expensive ones?"

"Is that really your deciding factor?" Dev asked, waving someone with a cart on wheels over.

"Yeah," she replied with a wince. "I'm sure they're all great! The Greek Week was amazing! But I need this fundraiser to be as successful as possible, and the finances are tight."

Jessica wondered if she could come back up with Jake and his truck one day to pick them up, but Dev asked, "Can you fit three of them in your Bronco, Bradshaw?"

"Yep," Bradley replied, his arm draped casually around his wife's shoulders.

"Okay then," Dev said to the man with the cart. "Load one keg of Gamma Rays, one of East Coast Girls, and one of Nerd Core into the fancy blue thing parked outside."

Jessica's math brain was swirling. "How much do I owe you?"

Dev shrugged. "They retail for three hundred apiece, but you can have them at cost."

"Well, how much is that?" She was starting to panic now.

Dev was laughing again. "I'm not going to charge you a penny for the kegs. It's on me."

Bradley laughed, too. "That's just bad business, man. Didn't you study accounting?"

"Nah, I studied girls," Dev replied, smirking at Jessica as she blushed. "Come on, I'll send you home with some bottles."

Once they were in the tap room, Jessica insisted on paying for two six packs of beer while Bradley and his wife picked some out of the coolers as well. "I can't thank you enough," Jessica told Dev as he ran her credit card. "This whole thing is just really important to me getting tenure at my school, and... just, thank you."

"Don't mention it," he said as he handed the card back to her. "Bradshaw can make up for it in manual labor when I do my next brewery expansion."

Jessica looked to her left to where Bradley was setting down the beers he wanted to buy. "N-No," she stammered. "I wouldn't want anyone to have to do that!"

"I'm kidding," Dev promised as he took Bradley's credit card.

"You could come to the fraternity event!" Jessica blurted out. "And I could definitely promote your brand, too."

Dev tossed the card back to Bradley and shooed him away with his hand. Jessica thought she heard Bradley laughing behind her as Dev leaned a little closer, his perfect smile back on his face. "Just to clarify, are you asking me on a date?"

Her jaw dropped open. Would it have been that easy for her to get a date with him? She was shocked. He owned a brewery worth millions of dollars. "Oh. No. I have a boyfriend."

Dev shook his head. "Not surprising in the least. Email me the details for your event. I'd love to come, even if it's just an excuse to see you smile again."

"Okay," she said softly, taking both six packs in her hands. "And thanks again."

Jessica stumbled outside into the sunlight where Bradley and his wife were practically making out next to the Bronco which was filled with three kegs of beer. Even when she approached them, he didn't bother to remove his hands from her butt, but Jessica supposed that was a good sign that they considered her a friend as well.

"So? You ditching Jake for Dev?" Bradley asked, laughter in his voice.

"No!" Jessica replied. "But I can't believe he gave me the kegs for free. Really, it's thanks to you."

"Don't worry about it," Bradley replied, opening the door for her before walking around to the passenger side for his wife. "Dev's loaded, and he's nice anyway. So if you ever do decide to ditch Jake, you have options."

--------------------------

The Longhorns game was on, dinner was ready to go into the oven, and Jessica just texted that she was on her way. Jake was lounging on the couch, ready to spend the rest of the day and all night convincing her that she should show him her pretty green underwear and let him take it off of her.

He bought a new box of condoms, just in case. He felt a little weird digging into an open box for her, so he just tossed the last few he had, deciding to start fresh. In a lot of ways, that's what he was doing. Starting fresh.

Everything around him was spotlessly clean. There were new sheets on his bed. He had Sam Adams seasonal beers in the fridge. He had his couch ready for snuggling. He just needed her.

When she knocked, he rocketed off the couch, fixing his hair on the way to his door. "Hi-" The words died in his throat and he grimaced as he was met with Bradley Bradshaw, but at least he was holding some beers. "Rooster."

"Hangman," came the response with a smirk. When he pushed his way inside, Jake saw his wife was behind him, and then he finally saw Jessica.

"Jake," she sighed breathlessly, and he collected her up in his arms. He kicked the door closed as she kissed him, but he was wondering why there were four people in his condo instead of two when all he really wanted to do was take Jessica to bed.

"Hey, Baby. How was the brewery?"

Bradshaw was laughing as he made his way to the kitchen. "You can kiss your girlfriend goodbye. Dev Borah wants her. He just texted me asking how serious Jessica is with her boyfriend."

"Who?" Jake asked, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Jessica.

"The beer guy. His fraternity brother," she replied, kissing him softly. "Bradley's just kidding."

"He's not kidding," Bradshaw's wife said as she picked up one of the journals on the coffee table. "Dev really texted him."

Jake didn't think he actually had any cause for concern as Jessica wiggled her bag down her arm and let it drop to the floor so she could snuggle against his chest. "Why don't you text him back and tell him to fuck off," Jake told Bradley who was now rooting around in his refrigerator.

"What are you making for dinner?" he mumbled. "Bruschetta chicken? Sugar loves it when I make that for her."

"Bruschetta chicken?" his wife replied, also hustling into Jake's kitchen.

"Fuck," Jake whispered, "they're never gonna leave."

"Sorry," Jessica mumbled. "Bradley insisted on carrying the beers I bought up here for me. I got you a bottle of this one called Greek Week which Dev told me is a limited release, and I think you'll really like it."

Jake kissed her lips softly and asked, "What's it going to take for you to forget this Dev guy all together?"

She blushed for him and glanced toward the kitchen before she said, "I didn't wear my pretty green things for Dev. I wore them for you."

A smirk instantly appeared on Jake's face. Images of Jessica's bare pussy rubbing on his khaki uniform pants while she whined for him filled his mind. He would just have to make sure he was very good for her every single time, because there was no way he was giving her up now.

"Can we stay for dinner?" Rooster asked from the kitchen. "I want to compare recipes."

"No," Jake drawled as Jessica's lips found his neck in the briefest of kisses. "I'm going to say this as nicely as I can: Get the fuck out. Please."

"So rude," Bradshaw's wife replied, but she was smiling. Jake watched her lean in and whisper something to her husband.

His eyes went wide immediately, and he was nodding as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. "Yeah, I can do that for you, Sugar," he said softly, but Jake still heard him. Then Bradshaw cleared his throat and said, "See you on Monday, Hangman. Bye, Jess." He dragged his wife behind him as he made a beeline for the door, and she waved as she laughed.

And then they were gone, and Jake was just thankful it wasn't awkward at all when Jessica whispered, "I was afraid they weren't going to leave," as she ran her fingers up underneath his Longhorns shirt.

"He would have stayed, but she's a good wingwoman," Jake replied, kissing her temple, his lips meeting the cool plastic of her glasses. "And I just want to spend time alone with you. You want to sit on the couch? Have a few beers?"

The Longhorns game was on mute, but he'd lost interest in it anyway as Jessica carefully stepped out of her high heels. Now she really had to look up at him as she started to unbutton her blouse, and Jake's hands were on her denim covered hips immediately as he felt his cock twitch in delight. He was shocked and about to suggest taking things to his bedroom when he lost the ability to speak. She shrugged out of her blouse and draped it on the arm of the couch leaving her in a sheer, white camisole and her green bra.

"Sure," Jessica replied casually like she wasn't nearly stripped bare from the waist up for him. "I'd love a beer. Want to try that one called Greek Week?"

"Yep," he grunted in response as she pushed against his abs until he was sitting on the couch.

"We can share it," she whispered as she walked into his kitchen like she belonged there. Even from behind, Jake was entranced. The white fabric looked soft and stretchy, and he wanted to know for sure. He also wanted to see her without that silly little shirt on at all. "Fuck."

He watched her open the bottle and take a sip before heading back his way. When he patted the spot on the couch next to him, she settled in with her legs folded up and her knee resting on his thigh. He was plainly hard in his briefs and gray sweatpants as she leaned on him. He had a great view of her tits down her nearly nonexistent top as they were pressed together now.

"You want some?" she asked, looking up at him and adjusting her glasses. He wanted everything. It was actually fucking crazy how he reacted to this woman.

He leaned in and kissed her. "I want some of you, but I guess I'll try the beer as well." Then he took a sip, and it was good, which kind of pissed him off. He didn't know anything about this Dev guy, other than the fact that he was in Bradshaw's fraternity back in college in Virginia, but now he was imagining him flirting with his girlfriend.

When he handed the bottle back to her, she took another sip before setting it on the coffee table. Then she settled back against him, her hand grazing his cock through his sweatpants. She gasped. "Are you comfortable?" she whispered as he ran his fingers up her bare arm.

"Not really," he murmured, watching her head tip to the side in pleasure. He ran his lips along her soft shoulder. "You're teasing me right now."

"I'm not doing anything," she moaned. "Jake."

But he was too busy sucking gently on her pulse point below her ear while he worked his fingers underneath that pretty, green bra strap. She was half sitting on his lap now, reaching back with her hand to brush his cock again, this time intentionally.

Her breath was a soft whimper as she asked, "Don't you want to watch the Longhorns?"

Jake pulled his lips away from her and paused with his right hand on her hip and his left fingers dipping down inside the front of her bra. He watched her trace the head of his cock through too many layers of fabric with the tips of her pink painted nails.

"If you want to play games here, Jessica, I'm afraid you might lose, Baby."

That one sentence was enough to have her spinning around to face him, straddling him and sitting back on his thighs. "You didn't answer my question," she whispered, looking at him like she meant business in her decadent little outfit. She ran her hands down the front of her body to the button of her jeans and asked, "Do you want to watch the Longhorns?"

His fingers flexed on her hips, and he leaned back against the couch, eyes fixed on her as she unzipped her jeans and let him see some of that green lace thong. She wiggled herself against him and reached for his left hand, guiding it inside her jeans. And if he thought her shoulder was soft, then the skin above her panties was heavenly. He was aching as he stroked her, watching her chew on her lip as her glasses slid down her nose a bit.

Then she reached for the bottom of that white camisole and pulled his clean off over her head, tossing it toward her previously discarded blouse. Jake groaned at the sight of her pink nipples pressing against green lace. And there was a tiny green, satin bow right there between her tits on her bra. He couldn't decide if he wanted to chew it off or rub his nose on it, so instead he leaned forward and kissed it before pressing his lips to the swell of her right breast.

She smelled like expensive perfume and she tasted like a dream. Her fingers were soft in his hair as he continued to toy with her panties, but he brought his other hand up along her ribcage to join his lips on her tits.

"Jake," she said firmly in what he could only imagine was her stern teaching voice. "Do you want to watch the Longhorns?"

He pulled his mouth away from her tits and reached up along her back to her bra clasp. He suddenly pulled her closer, making her gasp as she sat with her jeans pressed to his hardness and her hands on his shoulders. Then he looked her in the eye. "Jessica, the only thing I want to watch right now is your pretty pussy taking my cock."

Jake smirked as her mouth fell open, and she stared at him. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as he licked her lips and undid one of the hooks of her bra. "And maybe the way your gorgeous tits bounce for me," he added with a smirk.

A moaning, whimpering mess. That's what was sitting on his lap right now. He watched her reach back and guide his hands so he was undoing the second hook closure on her bra. Then she pulled her hair to the side and let him guide the green lace away from her body. The way the straps slid down her arms was making him throb, and he kissed the soft skin in their wake. Then her breasts were free of the fabric, and she was looking at him expectantly as she chewed on her lip and stifled a moan.

"Baby," he gasped, throat suddenly dry as he let her bra fall to her lap and took her in his hands. She rolled her hips forward as he moulded his hands to the perfection of her tits and buried his face between them. Two flawless handfuls. And they were real. He could hardly remember the last time he'd been treated to something this exciting.

He had his mouth everywhere on her, sucking one nipple and then the other between his lips. Licking long stripes from beneath each breast up to her collarbone and back down again. He squeezed and caressed and nuzzled until she started to shake, his name starting to sound desperate on her lips. "Jake," she moaned like a wounded animal, shoving his hands inside her open jeans and grinding.

But he reminded himself that a horny quickie was not right for the first time. Second, third and fourth? Yeah, absolutely. But not right now. "Will you let me take you to bed?"

"Yes!" she practically shouted, fingers digging into his shoulders. He stood up, Jessica clinging to the front of him, and carried her to his bedroom with his hands on her ass. Her lips were on his neck, and he could hear the needy sounds she made as her nose pressed to his ear.

There was soft afternoon sunlight filtering in through Jake's bedroom windows, and everything looked dreamy as he set Jessica down on the floor at the foot of his bed. A bashful smile ghosted across her lips as she reached for the bottom of his Longhorns shirt and guided it up his torso and over his head. "Oh," she gasped, and Jake nearly purred as she ran her fingers through his chest hair. "Ohh." Then her hands trailed down to his sweatpants, and it was over.

"Jessica," he growled when she reached inside and yanked them down his hips. He was so hard in his black briefs, he had to beg her to be gentle as she pulled them down as well. Then she was stroking him with her small hands, giving him a few experimental pumps.

He had to squeeze his eyes shut and take a deep breath when she whispered, "That's enough teasing, don't you think?"

"Get on the bed."

With a soft squeak, she did as she was told, scrambling onto her back so her tits shook invitingly. But he needed to focus here. He needed to be good. Great. Spectacular. This was his girl, not just some girl. His cock was bouncing as he watched her pull her jeans down over her soft hips and thighs, leaving her in just that sinful green thong.

He crawled on top of her, propping himself up on his elbows, and he let his cock rest on her thigh as he kissed her lips. "You're so fucking beautiful, Jessica."

Her fingers were back in his chest hair before she looped them around his neck. "So are you."

He hummed against her lips. "I bought condoms this morning. Give me a minute to get them?"

But she shook her head. "I don't want to use a condom with you."

The noise he made was actually perverted, and he thought his eyes were going to roll into the back of his head when she pressed her pussy up against him. "You want me to skip the condom?" he ground out, his hand cupping her breast. He stroked her nipple as she whined the word yes over and over again.

"Please," she gasped. "I'm clean. I got tested last year. I haven't had sex in a year."

"Oh my god." She hadn't had sex in a year. How was that even fucking possible? Pretty face, perfect body, smart as hell, and she wasn't even getting fucked? "Jessica, are you on birth control?"

"Yes. Are you clean?" she asked, and Jake just kind of froze there. He had never skipped a condom before. Even at his drunkest. Even in the bathroom at the bar. Even in the bed of his truck on the Fourth of July. He had used a condom every single time he'd ever had sex since he was sixteen years old and lost his virginity. And right now he was afraid he was going to cum after two seconds inside her without one on. And if this perfect woman went a year without sex, she deserved to have him last an hour.

"I'm clean," he confirmed, and she pulled him down for a kiss.

"Then what are you waiting for?" she whispered before swiping her tongue into his mouth.

---------------------------

Jessica was so turned on, it felt like her skin was on fire. She was making this pitiful noise at the back of her throat, and she couldn't seem to stop no matter what she did. She was already thrusting up, rubbing herself on Jake like a needy cat, back arching off his bed. If he didn't fuck her soon, she was afraid she might start crying.

But right now he was just kissing her forehead and cheeks and looking at her while his golden chest hair teased her breasts. His cock was heavy on her thigh, and she needed it inside her. It was an absolute necessity right now. The fact that she could go from completely normal all morning at Beta Brewing to a filthy mess for him right now was startling.

"Baby," he whispered, shaking his head. "Jessica."

Then he let one hand trail down her body and slip inside her underwear, and as soon as he touched her clit she sighed in relief. His fingers were sure and steady as she stroked the back of his neck with both hands, scraping along through his hair with her nails.

"Jake," she gasped, and he kissed her lips as he fucked her with one long finger. But even when he added a second, she already knew it wouldn't compare to his thick cock. She was aching for it. He was going to make her beg for it, she needed it that badly. It had been a year since she had sex with Brian in his office, and he was nowhere near as big as Jake. This anticipation was almost too much now.

The swirl of his thumb on her clit was delicious though, and Jake trailed his kisses down her neck to her chest. He pulled her nipple gently between his teeth before sucking. Her back arched off the bed again as she rode his fingers. "Oh god," she moaned. "Jake."

Okay, okay. He seemed to know just what to do with his mouth and hands to make her wild. Just the right amount of pressure. Just the right speed on her clit, too. All she needed was for him to fuck her.

"Please?" she asked softly. Then she reached for her glasses. Maybe that was the problem. They always seemed to be in the way for activities like this, so she took them off.

That seemed to draw him out of his daze as he released her breast and gasped, "What are you doing, Baby?" His face was blurry to her now, but he still looked handsome.

She ran her foot along his bare leg up to his hip and brushed his cock. "I want you," she whispered, hips jerking as he continued to work her clit. "Thought maybe you'd want me to lose the glasses?"

"Back on," he instructed sternly, so she slid them back on her face. Then he kissed her lips again as he drew his soaking fingers out of her pussy and used them on her clit in place of his thumb.

When she ran her fingers along his face, he moaned into her mouth. "Jake, please," she whispered, breaking the kiss and shaking her head from side to side. "I need it."

He groaned and laughed softly, and she was searching his face. "I want to make you feel so good, but you do a number on me Reedy. I'm a little concerned I'm gonna come immediately."

"You are?" she whimpered.

He nodded and kissed her softly. "Yeah." She watched him pull away from her to gently ease her thong away from her pussy and down her legs. He held the green fabric to his nose and grunted, keeping it in his right hand as he took his time to press kisses along her thigh before kissing her pussy. She bucked against his face, already clenching as he kissed her again and again. Then he brought his hand down to his cock and pumped a few times before lining himself up with her and pressing the tip inside.

Then his face was hovering over hers again as he planted his hands near her head. His kisses were a little desperate, but so was she. Then he started to move, and it was everything she needed. "Jessica," he hissed, his face contorting in pleasure as he filled her all the way, stretching her out.

And if he was the one who was afraid of coming right away, he had nothing to worry about. She was whimpering, she felt so full. He was thick, and the stretch was so good, it was almost painful when he started to thrust. She laced her fingers through his silky hair, pulling him closer so he could feel her lips quivering.

"You're so big," she moaned, and he absolutely devoured her mouth just the way she wanted him to. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he rocked into her, and when he brought his fingers back to her clit, she was already fluttering.

She slowed him down just a little bit with the roll of her hips, and then it was perfect. He actually felt perfect to her. Whispering her name against her neck and moving his fingers just right as he kept her full. When he gasped, "Baby," she clenched around him, and it brought on a tidal wave.

"Oh," she moaned, digging her fingers into his neck as she rolled her hips and started to come. She was whining for him as he sucked on her collarbone, and she just kept getting louder. Her voice was strained to her own ears. There was a crescendo of her gasping his name, and then she was just panting softly and shivering beneath him, her hands limp by her sides on the bed as her pussy continued to clench.

Jake met her gaze, still fucking her as he combed his fingers back through her hair. Then he smiled, as she bit her lip and whimpered his name. "You feel good?" he asked.

"So good," she whispered. Jake adjusted her glasses and kissed her before tucking his hands underneath her and lifting her up. He flipped them so he was on his back and she was straddling him, and she had to brace her hands on his chest.

She combed her fingers through his chest hair again, and now she was the one leaning down to kiss him. She felt powerful now that she got her pleasure and felt sated. She was ready to give him what he wanted. "Do you feel good?" she asked, turning his question back around on him.

Jake responded by propping himself up with one hand and wrapping his other arm around her waist. "Incredible."

As she leaned back a little bit, she kept her hands braced on his shoulders, and sure enough, his gaze drifted down to watch as she slowly slid herself up and down along his cock. God, he was thick, and she could tell she was really gripping him. "You wanted to watch me take your cock, didn't you?"

Sweat was breaking out on his forehead, and he swallowed hard. "Jesus Christ, you're gonna be a fucking handful." Then he thrust his hips up, ramming himself deeper, and she shrieked in delight at the stretch.

"Do it again!"

So he did. And again after that. And again. His head was tipped back now as the tempo increased, and she pressed him flat on his back again as she rode him. He seemed so much more confident now too as he brought his hands and mouth up to her breasts. His white teeth looked so pretty as he ran them against her peaked nipples, and she fucked him a little faster. But his trimmed pubic hair was rubbing her clit at this angle, and the faster she went, she realized she was getting close. Again.

"Fucking gorgeous," Jake muttered, switching from her left nipple to her right and sucking. And then she bucked her hips, and he looked up at her as she parted her lips and tried to speak. But she just made another embarrassing noise, and her hair fell in front of her glasses as she sank all the way down around him.

But this time she took him with her, his fingers tangled up in her hair as he grunted, "Jessica." Pleasure rippled through her, not as intense as the first time, but it was still incredible, and she eased herself down to rest against his chest as his hips slowed as well.

Jake carefully ran his fingers through her hair until she could see his face again. "There you are," he whispered, coaxing her a little closer for a kiss. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked like he was as affected by everything as much as she was. His movements were languid and unhurried, and the smile on his face was dreamy and genuine. Had she ever been with a man who looked at her like this after he unloaded inside her? He wasn't even making any move to get up yet.

"I really like you," she blurted out, immediately embarrassed.

"Yeah, well, I just made you come, so..." he said with a little shrug as he ran his thumb along her lips.

"It's not that," she said, letting him trace her lips before she continued. She looked down at his neck as she whispered, "You seem excited by me."

"I am," he confirmed as she started to sit up. "Where you going?"

She wiggled her hips and let his softening cock slide out of her. "Just going to get cleaned up."

Jake's left hand shot out to hold her in place as she straddled him. He was propped up on one elbow, staring at her pussy as she felt his cum dripping along her thighs. "Oh my god," he growled. When she looked down, she watched his cum drop onto his abs, and she could feel herself blushing.

"You're looking at me like you've never enjoyed a creampie before."

He sat up so she was straddling his thighs and making an even bigger mess. "I haven't. I've always worn protection in the past."

She was shocked as she let her arms slide around his neck. "Always?"

Jake kissed her as her forehead came to rest against his. "Yeah," he whispered sheepishly. Maybe that's why he seemed to get a little nervous for a minute there. But Jessica was so incredibly turned on right now by this information, she was about to ask him if he could go again yet. But he was holding her so sweetly now, just cradling her against his bigger body and kissing her like there was nowhere he'd rather be. "Okay, Smart Girl. Let's clean up, and then I have something I want to show you."

"What is it?" she asked as he stood with her in his arms.

He ran his nose along her jaw and kissed her. "Oh, you'll love it, Baby. It's a spec sheet on the new Super Hornet outfitting."

She gasped. "Jake. Really?" This had to be the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her.

He chuckled softly as he took her into his bathroom. "It's an archive copy, so a few things have been redacted, but I have it all memorized so you can work out the math as many times as you want."

"You're a dream," she whispered against his lips.

--------------------------

Nice to see Dev again! It's been a while! Nervous Jake, I love you. He almost fumbled things for a minute there with his woman. Are we taking bets on round two later in the weekend? Think he can keep it together? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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beloved-nyx · 5 days

Note

part two for "the b in babe stands for blood" please. Ill give my soul for another fan fic of him-

𝐓𝐇𝐄 “𝐎” 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 !

ᝰ.ᐟ Being kidnapped was not on your bucket list…at least there’s snacks?

જ⁀➴ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 (𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍) 𝐗 𝐆𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

જ⁀➴ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: Yandere, slight infantilization, kidnapping, non-consensual touching, kissing (w/ tongue) not proofread (we die like king) non-consensual filming, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

જ⁀➴ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓: 700 words

જ⁀➴ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: Everyone really liked the first fic which is super surprising !! Ahhh anyway thank you for enjoying the first fic but you don’t have to read that fic to understand what’s going on with this one 😉 Also, tagging @kitto-lover cuz they wanted to read this fic. Anyway enjoy <3

When you were first kidnapped, you had woken up in a queen-sized bed with a chain around your ankle.

It had taken you a minute to really understand the gravity of the situation. Your eyes were clouded with sleep, your head throbbing with what you had thought to be the result of a nasty hangover. It hadn’t fully hit you that you weren’t in your bed but in a strangers, until you had seen the scariest–no, more like the ugliest–stuffed animal laying down next to you.

The floodgates opened, and the memories came to you like a tsunami, violent and merciless.

Your boyfriend-no, no, your stalker, had done this. It was almost scary at how calm he was when you confronted him about it, the eerie little grin that he wore as his hands traveled towards yours and plucked his phone from your shaken hands, the picture of you half-undressed still displayed on the bright screen.

His lips had quirked up as he whispered those sweet and sugary words, “I guess we’ll finally get to do this my way, then.”

The last thing you felt was his hands snaking up to your neck.

Your hand gently grazes your neck, a whispered, “fuck” escaping your lips as you press on a bruise.

You rip off your blanket, and cringe when you see you’re wearing a flowy white shirt ten times your size, and only clad in your underwear. The shirt must have been Caelan’s, you had seen him wear it once when you were on a date. The very thought makes your mouth sour.

The sound of a faint click awakens you from your thoughts, and you hurriedly cover yourself with the blanket as the door opens and a well-dressed figure enters the room. It’s quite the contrast, the man looking out of place in the cutesy room.

You dig your nails into the blanket as you spit out, “What did you do to me, Caelan?”

Caelan smiles softly, his steps light as he makes his way towards you and sits next to you. You can’t help but feel threatened, he could easily overpower you right now and you weren’t quite past the fact that he had choked you to unconsciousness with the same smile on his face.

“You're fiiiinally up.” He pats your cheek with his hand, dragging the ‘i’ in finally with lilt to his voice and making you scowl in the process. “I would have brought you something to eat, but I…uh, kinda burned it. But no biggie! I’ll just get takeout.”

His black eyes are bright, excitement palpable in his voice as he continues, “Do you like your new room?” he picks up the stuffed animal next to you, a childish grin slathered on his face. “I even stitched your favorite animal as a stuffy!”

No wonder it looks like the devil’s shit.

“I’m not a toddler.” Your voice is hard, but embarrassment couldn't help but find its way to you. What did he think you were? A goddamn child?

He conveniently ignores you as he pinches your cheeks. “You look so cute in my shirt!” He coos, hand traveling down from your face to your neck, and his eyes glance over at your neck with faint interest, before his hands travel down to your chest.

You jerk away from him, indigence in your voice as you yelp, “What are you doing?”

“You’ve always been so shy,” Caelan muses as he glances at you with a lovestruck look. “It always made me so worried whenever you went out. What would happen if some perverse man came and took my darling away from me?” Pale hands travel down to your navel, settling there as he leans forward–

–and captures your lips in his.

His kiss is messy, a hand departing from your stomach and instead cradling the back of your head as he deepens his kiss. His tongue shoves into your mouth as you struggle against him, a moan escaping your lips as you try to push Caelan away.

“You're so cute and perfect for me,” He mutters before kissing you again, this time more gently.

Even as he kisses you, your eyes are open. And as your eyes travel to that of the stuffed animal, your heart tightens.

A camera.

There was a camera in the stuffed toy’s right eye, a red light blinking faintly and capturing the absolute horror of this very moment.

©beloved-nyx. do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

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turtlecleric · 3 months

Text

I Know Now

late as usual ~ nsfw, rise!donnie x reader (cw: altered state of mind)

---

“Dearest?”

“Yes, Donnie.”

"Tell me again."

You blow out a slow breath, closing your eyes and pushing down the hint of exasperation that's starting to bloom in your chest. He's worried, you remind yourself. Unsure. Hesitant in a way that you simply aren't. You can be patient, for him.

"It will be disorienting and confusing," you say once more. "I may feel overwhelmed or scared. I may not be able to control my thoughts or actions. I may hate it."

Donnie searches your face, brows furrowed. "And you still want t-"

"Yes."

The movement of his free hand tapping rapidly against his thigh catches your eye. It makes you soften further, seeing how worried he is about this. About you. You step forward to wrap your arms around him, and his own slide around you immediately, making the bottle of pills in his hand rattle as he does. His cheek rests on the top of your head, and you bask in the comfort of his hold for a long moment before leaning back to catch his gaze. Somber, anxious eyes look back at you.

"I trust you,” you murmur. “I understand the risks. And I still really want to do this. Okay?"

His mouth opens, but he closes it without saying anything. When he opens it again, it's with a firmer, more resolute expression.

"Okay," he says, nodding and pulling away fully from your hug. "Let's get you set up then."

He leads you to the bed nestled in the back corner of the workshop - one that he put together specifically for this. Sturdy, with a mattress that has just the right amount of give, an absurd number of pillows, and the softest blankets and sheets you've ever had the pleasure of running your hands over. The memory of when he'd first shown you the finished product makes you smile.

It's perfect, Donnie!

Of course it is! I made it to your exact preferences based on the data I've collected over the past few weeks, and - oh, let me show you how the heating function works!

God. You love him so fucking much.

Settled amongst the pillows now, with him kneeling on the bed beside you, your heart sings thinking about how much work he's put into this. The pills, obviously. The bed. The lectures and pamphlets and reminders that you don't have to do this - despite the fact that you were the one who requested it in the first place. Wanting to experience a taste of what it's like for him, so you can understand better but… also because you're a little selfish. He's told you countless times how much better his season is now that he has you. Alone, it had been miserable. With you… it's something incredible. And he always seems so content during his season - relaxed and satisfied and so goddamn happy. Giddy with it, even. You want to see what that feels like.

"The effects should last approximately one hour," Donnie says, pulling you from your thoughts. The bottle rattles again when he gingerly shakes a single pill into his hand. "Don't forget that your heart rate will increase, and you'll start to feel really warm. That's normal. Oh, and don’t forget that-”

"Donnie," you call softly, cutting him off. You take the pill from him with one hand and use the other to weave your fingers around his and squeeze. "As long as I'm with you, I'll be fine."

His eyes soften, and the tiny smile on his face bolsters you. Before he has a chance to make you repeat the warnings (again), you reach over to one of the cup holders jutting out from the side of the bed and pick up a water bottle.

(It's important to stay hydrated, dearest. Ooh! Watch this, there's a hidden cupboard for snacks that raises up when you press-)

The pill goes down easily, and Donnie immediately starts to ramble again. Reminding you of what to expect, of the contingency plans in place should you decide this really isn't for you and you need to stop. You half-listen, smirking when he falters for just a moment as you start to strip.

You'd thought you might get a bit chilly since he keeps it relatively cold in here, but you're feeling okay even without your clothes. You get comfortable on the bed, lying down and… about to ask how long it will take for… hm.

Hm.

He's still talking, but you're a little distracted by the way his throat moves as he speaks. The way his tendons stretch and pull when he shifts, when he turns his head, or... the glimpses of his tongue, his teeth, as he talks.

Wait. Focus.

"-feeling?"

You blink up at him. "...Huh?"

He looks like he can't decide between worry or amusement. It's not an unusual expression to see on his face - you evoke that in him pretty often - but something about it mesmerizes you.

"How are you feeling?" He says again.

Feeling. How are you. Feeling.

It's hard to focus when you're staring at him. Looking away feels impossible, but you manage to close your eyes and think.

You feel... warm. That's right. He said that would happen. You feel… hazy. Like your thoughts have to drag themselves through molasses to make it to the surface. Hungry? No, hungry isn't quite right, but it's... similar. Like a craving. You want. You want. You feel your pulse in your throat, hear the blood rushing in your ears. You miss him. He’s right here, but you miss him.

When you open your eyes and see him there, you feel yourself relax. His gaze is intense. Heavy. It makes you shiver, goosebumps rising along your arms and legs, and you try to focus. Focus. Try to…

Why aren’t you touching him? It seems stupid to not be touching him. More than stupid, it feels wrong. You reach out, resting a hand against his plastron, feeling the vibrations there as he speaks.

Wait, what is he saying? You see the movement of his mouth, and you hear the words, but… the meanings slip away like smoke in your hands. Your name is the only thing you recognize, and oh, the way he says your name has you shivering again. Shivering - but you're so warm. The thought makes you smile, but it falls when you suddenly become aware of every inch that separates you from him. You place your other hand on his arm, curling around his bicep, pulling him closer, because he’s so far away. Even when he moves where you pull him, letting you wrap around him and press your face into the crook of his neck, he’s still too far away.

He says your name again. Quiet and gentle, and you love the sound of it. It echoes in your mind, a layered whisper that soothes something you can’t put a name to. You breathe him in, nuzzling into his neck as the both of you lie down together. Arms around each other, your legs entwined, he’s right here but you need him closer. You need… something. You need…

Hands massage your back. Your shoulders. Someone is moaning and you think it might be you. You want to say something, but you can’t, can’t, can’t - there’s an ache in your chest, a burning in your stomach. Your thighs are sticky. You need- you can feel your cunt throbbing.

A brief moment of clarity. Suddenly you can understand his steady murmuring, can fully remember what's happening and how you got here.

“-okay, I’m here. I’ll take care of you, okay? You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

You need him. You need him, you need him right now, and you have to tell him. You don’t even care, don’t have the capacity to even be embarrassed by how whiny your voice is when you finally manage to speak. “Donnie. Donnie, please. Please, I need you. Please fuck me, please, Donnie, please, I need-”

The moment he kisses you, all of your thoughts slip away. There is only him and you and him and you and him but then he pulls away, and it hurts. You miss him. You try to tell him, ask him to come back, but someone is whimpering, and you miss him, and it hurts, and you can’t think.

You miss him.

His hands find you again, his lips pressing against your own, and the relief is overwhelming. Your entire body shudders, shaking apart beneath him. You can't differentiate between the touches, his hands and mouth here and there and everywhere, everywhere, everywhere at once. Someone whines again.

Donnie lies on top of you then, arms pressed between you and the mattress, holding you close against him, and oh. The weight of him, the smell of him, the taste of him - it’s enough to make you go boneless. Something, something - his knee, you think - slides between your legs, pressing against you. You can't help but grind against it as his tongue just barely glides against yours. It’s so warm. Everywhere, everything, warm and good and safe.

You’re trembling, chills running up your spine, lighting sparking along your skin. You’re flying, you think. Weightless, somehow, with only friction and pressure and Donnie Donnie Donnie. He adjusts, his knee moving away, but before you can protest something slips inside of you. His finger, you realize after a few pumps, and it's better, so much better, but it's not enough and you need more more more-

Donnie is whispering something that you don’t understand, but his voice alone is like a balm. Soothing your impatience. Your desperation. You focus on the rumble of it, then on the rub of his jaw against yours, then on the slick circles of his thumb against your clit, then his fingers - two, now - pumping easily in and out of you. Your hips are in constant motion, your arms clawing at his arms, and you can't stop seeking him in every way that you can. Time warps - there is no time, only feeling as you fight to somehow have him closer.

He lifts himself up, and you miss having his weight press you into the mattress, but then you feel him start to press something bigger inside of you, and fuck yes this is it. His cock - this is what you were craving, what you need more than oxygen itself, and it feels so fucking good. The feeling of him inside you, filling you up, full, so full of him. And then he starts to move and - no, this is what you need. This delicious, wet friction, the feeling of him spearing you open again and again as you pull apart at the seams. There is only him and here and now, and it’s all you've ever wanted and it's yours.

Are you coming? You can't tell if you are or if it just feels that good to have him pumping into you. You can't seem to think past each thrust, your mind going blank after every... Fuck, are you coming? Or does it just feel that good-

One of his words slips through the mist that's replaced your mind. Mine. It makes your skin spark. You've never felt more safe, more content, more full. It's almost too much. Just the brush of his scales against your skin is enough to overwhelm you, and fuck, fuck, are you coming or does he just feel that good inside of you?

You want to tell him… something. Something. You don't know, couldn't put it into words even if you could manage to control your mouth enough to speak. You might already be speaking. You’re not sure. His voice, though, you are sure about. It's a constant echo in your mind, and you can’t understand the words but at the same time you do. You understand. Safe, pretty, good, mate, mine. Yes, yes, yes. You’re his. Forever.

Your heart is beating so fast. Your entire body is one big heartbeat, pulsing with every movement he makes. It’s almost scary - would be scary if you didn’t feel so fucking good and so completely, utterly safe. You're an imploding star, a burning, writhing, blissed-out thing that used to be a person and that may not ever be one again. You think you might be okay with that.

God, are you coming or does it-

That thought is abruptly disintegrated when you do come. Your eyes roll back into your head, waves and waves of shimmering pleasure lighting up every nerve. On and on and on, it doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop, and you’re sure now. This is you coming, and it isn’t fucking stopping. Someone is crying, and this shouldn’t actually be possible. It shouldn't be possible for a person to feel this way, and it isn’t fucking stopping, holy fuck. The wave swells in a way it never has before, cresting and cresting and cresting, and- oh. You’re crying. That's you.

breathe, darling. got you, beautiful, mine, doing so good. breathe. that’s it, pretty girl

He’s comforting you, you think. What is there to comfort? There has never been anything that feels as good as this. You’re still coming and he’s still fucking you through it, and thank god, because if he stopped you might actually die. You reach for him, but he's already there.

mine, mine, mine

You think you might be starting to come down from that insane high. The trembling seems permanent, but you can think a little, can take in more of what he's saying now even though it's a little slurred in your ears.

“- got you. All mine, so pretty and perfect. Smell so fucking good, taking my cock like you were made for me, like the perfect mate. So good, pretty girl, you're doing so good. I love you so-”

He's happy with you. You're being good. You're good. You're good and safe and warm, and he's here, and this is where he belongs, always. Deep inside of you, fucking you, always, always, with his fingers in your mouth and his teeth in your shoulder. You can't separate pain from pleasure. It's all one swirling, overwhelming cacophony of sensation until you feel him release inside of you, coating your insides with his come, marking you as his in every way - and it does something to your brain. You think you really are talking now, thanking him, maybe, or just- fuck, you can't concentrate, you're so full.

Part of you mourns, even through the thick haze of your mind, knowing that he will pull out of you soon. But you're surprised to find that he doesn't, that he only needs a few moments before he's hard and pumping into you again. More sweet, incomprehensible words fall on your ears like so many shooting stars, and time continues to warp, and oh, fuck, the wave is cresting again-

---

When you wake, the first thing you become aware of is the fact that you feel so unbelievably relaxed. The second thing is that Donnie is holding you, stroking your hair and speaking to you softly.

You take a slow, deep breath, and his words stop, then start again. This time you push through the haze enough to actually listen.

“You haven't stopped smiling,” he says, his own smile audible in his voice.

His hand continues to brush through your hair, while the fingers of his other hand tap absent-mindedly against your thigh. It's nice. You bask in the feeling for a moment before you respond.

“It was like… like you said. The way you feel now, during your season. I just felt really… connected to you. Safe. And happy.” You sigh, snuggling in closer. “And really, really good. I don't know why you were so worried I would hate it.”

His hands stop. Then start again. When he answers, you can't hear the smile anymore. “It's only like that when- when you're with the person you…”

He trails off, and you wait for him to elaborate. He doesn't. The silence grows heavy. You pull back to look up at him, but he avoids your eyes, his lips thinning and his brows pinching together. You finish his sentence for him.

“The person you love?”

His throat bobs when he swallows, and his tiny nod makes your chest ache. To think that - even after everything you've been through - he was still unsure. Worried that the pill would not only make you miserable, but also that it would confirm your true feelings.

Or lack thereof.

“Donnie,” you start, but he cuts you off with a kiss. Slow, gentle, and intimate. He kisses you until you forget how to breathe, and when he finally pulls away you have to take a few moments to remind yourself of what you were going to say. “You thought I wouldn't-”

“I was wrong to worry,” he says simply, cutting you off once more. “I know that now.”

You consider pushing further, but the pleasant fog that still clings to your mind makes it hard to think. You close your eyes and breathe, trying to focus past the memory of his lips on yours. It’s hard when his hands still trail through your hair. When you open them again, he’s still avoiding your gaze.

“You know I love you. Right?”

His eyes finally meet your own, and you see something there. Something that’s too big to put a name to but that relaxes your concern nonetheless. He leans toward you to press a quick kiss to your forehead, and when he pulls back his lips have settled back into a soft smile.

“I know, dearest. I know.”

---

tag list: @yorshie @khayalli @thejudiciousneurotic @luckycharms1701 @mxalmighty @thelaundrybitch @justalotoffanfiction

#tmntspringshellebration #turtlecleric scrolls #rise!donnie #thank you again for proofing yorshie dear <3

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mowu-moment · 3 months

Text

ranking food tokens by how much personally i want to eat them

- Throne of Eldraine -

i have reason to distrust this meat pie thing, not only because of its wails of anguish but it also seems to have burst a bit in the oven. still not honestly opposed, at least the dishes are clean. 5/10.

how does one unpeel a curly banana? why are there sliced-open fruits on what appears to be a stone in the woods? where is the light coming from? i'm going to be taken by the fae and it's not even gonna taste too good while i'm at it, these things look dirty. but idk i don't mind someone else taking the wheel of my life rn. 2/10.

again, concerns about the floor food, but at least it looks more like some deliverygirl got eaten by a wolf and dropped her basket than a trap. someone already took a bite, though, maybe i should leave it be. 4/10

i have been invited to the Goblin King's Feast and while i don't fully agree with his choices i will certainly partake. boar looks wonderful apart from the hair. 7/10

- Commander 2020 / Strixhaven Commander -

i'm pretty sure cattails are poisonous to humans (not to mention the actual poisons in there) so i unfortunately can't oblige gyome's swamp soup. that crusty bread looks pretty nice though. i'll pick this thing apart like high school cafeteria lunch. 3/10.

- Modern Horizons 2 -

i at least know who cooked this one, and i trust asmor a decent bit, but this is still food for demons, so maybe it's not too good for me. goddamn do i wanna know what it tastes like though. 4/10.

- Unfinity -

i'm considering these two together. as a filthy american, i am allured by these fat-filled foods, but as a lad with a tiny stomach, i doubt i could eat enough to feel good about not wasting it. astrotorium's about excess, goddamn. the only funfair burger i've had was the best thing i had eaten in months, but it also made me ill the rest of the day. i really do want some infinity fries though, those look like the golden mean between a steak fry and a curly fry. 6/10.

- March of the Machine Commander -

meanwhile this looks like a texture nightmare. like i respect it, i imagine it's filling and fulfilling, but i don't think i ever could eat more than a bite or two. bread looks a little worse than gyome's but only a little. 5/10.

- Lord of the Rings: Tales of Middle-Earth -

my white ass loves a charcuterie board. and i'm not going to be intimidated out of it by not eating enough, since it's all in snack-sized bits already. definitely gonna overindulge this sucker. i'm nervous about some of those spreads though. 9/10.

this looks like i'm in a dream, is it actively cooking? or still hot? i can't identify what's in that pan anyway. i'm leaving it alone out of respect. wouldn't mind a drink though. 2/10.

this is not food. for humans. 0/10.

- Wilds of Eldraine -

this is a king's feast i am properly intimidated by. i'm more into it than the Goblin King's, particularly that triple-layer blueberry pie or whatever that is, but i'm going to have to be as polite as possible lest i get a face full of flaming beer. 8/10

i'll probably be eaten before this can eat me, and it barely looks like food, but at least i go down with sugar in the mouth. 1/10.

ogh. that egg looks divine. the bread looks amazing, there's a full glass, i've got like beans or mermaid tears everywhere. we've even got seasonings back there. the best damn breakfast i'll ever have. 10/10.

i would still probably eat this over nothing. there's onion, at least. i will either be hexed or violently ill, but like i could at least get it down. and maybe the witchmother is testing my strength and she'll reward me after slurping an eyeball. a convenient lie to tell myself. 2/10.

- Doctor Who Commander -

y'know, four, i think i would like a copyrighted candy. they look sad and british, which is on point. but like it's not actively killing me like half of these. i think anyway. i don't know doctor who. 6/10.

what is this? i have no idea. custard? raw batter? giant dunkaroo? is he dipping fishsticks? it doesn't look like it's done cooking, like do we need to put it in a fryer again? i'd say it's inedible but it's not poison stew so i have to be nice. 4/10.

get AWAY from me. this is a PERSONAL vendetta. i would rather try to eat spiderwebs. plus he's already eaten half of it. -10/10.

- Fallout Commander -

i can't be too mean since this is literally apocalypse food. i think i prefer this over poison stew? like i recognize it at least, even if it's foul and moldy. man has to eat something. 3/10

i'm not convinced there's actual soda in here. is this just a perspective shot or is this a giant prop soda? i don't like cola anyway. again, worth it in an apocalypse i suppose. 4/10

this soda i trust even less. it glows? does this give me magic powers in the fallout world or does it just kill me slowly? i think it'll kill me slowly anyway. i need fluid to survive in apocalypseland but damn i hate for it to come to this. 2/10.

#mtg #i haven't had breakfast yet today so this is driving me a little looney

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sinsinsininning · 4 months

Note

Can i request a luffy x fem reader who's his childhood best friend and they're both as dumb and hyperactive as each other (she followed and stayed him when he started his pirate journey) and they also like each other but arent together and theyre just two puppies in love

I love dumb idiot x dumb idiot, with a smidgen of oblivious mutual pining. I’m keeping this to pre time skip and kinda vague timeline wise. Keeping this as SFW since you didn’t specify just to be safe.

Hope you like it ✨

—————

You’d grown up attached to his hip, returning with him to Dandan’s house after saving him from drowning. He’d fallen off a bridge he’d made and into the fast river, his elder brothers, Sabo and Ace, rushed to help him. But you’d been faster, watching the trio from the shore and being a great swimmer/fisherman.

His brothers had been so grateful they’d offered you protection and dinner at their home, your own family was broken up by war and violence just like theirs so you accepted. And while Dandan hadn’t been happy about another mouth to feed, she’d thought having a young girl around would help the three wild boys settle down and act better.

It didn’t.

Everyone was dismayed to learn you were just as crazy as Luffy and equally stupid. Though you both had your brilliant moments and emotional intelligence, time and time again proved that though wisdom was chasing you, you were faster.

That’s how it’s been as kids, your adventures so intertwined Luffy couldn’t remember a time you weren’t by his side. Even Garp mistakenly called you his grandkid half the time and never held back his training or punishment on you either.

As you got older, your ambition remained unchange. You wanted to see Luffy become King of the Pirates, which is why you were the first to join his crew. Over time as your crew gained more members, you were a steady pillar of loyalty.

Loyal to your crew, your captain, and your captain’s stupid ass.

Some examples of your daily hourly conversations:

“If you could only eat one food for forever what woul-“

“Meat.” Luffy cut you off.

“Too broad be more specific.” You smack his chest lightly, it’s late at night and you’re both stargazing on the main deck.

“Cooked meat.” Luffy said after thinking a moment. “You?”

“Hmmm Ice cream. Or potatoes.”

“Mmmm now I’m hungry. Lets ask Sanji for a snack.” Puffy starts to stand but you yank him back down.

“Can’t remember, he’s still mad at us for putting a regular carrot in the bin with the baby carrots so they’d have adult supervision.” You laugh together as he lays still, the only time he can be still is if it’s with you.

Or.

“Nothing to see here,” You whistle lowly, trying to keep Nami’s attention on you as you whiddle. “Love being normal. Peak ordinary! That’s me, heh no problems here. No one’s ever been this average.”

“Are you sick or so- GODDAMN IT LUFFY!” She cuts herself off to try and whack your captain on the head, but it was too late, he’d already grabbed her slice of cake and ran off. The red head throws her book at you as you follow after him.

He saved you a forkful, the rest was gone the second he started running, but for you. For you he saved a bit.

Or.

“We didn’t come here to make friends.” Zoro says as he holds his blade to an enemy captain after a short skirmish.

“We came here to make Best Friends.” You interjected.

“Yeah!” Luffy gave you a thumbs up.

“Shut up you idiots or I’ll slice you!” Poor Zoro’s blood pressure was insane with the two of you.

Or.

“I’m not surprised you’ve gotten a bounty.” Garp sighs, tired eyes locked on Luffy. “But I expected better from you!” He rounds on you, shoving his finger in your face accusingly.

“Shishishi! Well that’s your own fault, nothing to do with me.” You and Luffy laugh as Garp chases after you. The old man doesn’t miss the way, Luffy looks back to ensure you’re still stride for stride with him or the way he takes the heated blows aimed for you.

But.

Overtime, your feelings are softer and softer for him, but you have no clue what this means. You notice the little things he does for you, the things he’s always done for you only. You watch him listen intently to Sanji’s flirting advice -that no one really asked for- and try not to feel weird about it. It’s only when Nami finally just announces that you’re both in love that you finally understand. A little.

“Duh.” Luffy says when she tells the crew.

“Yeah of course we love each other.” You agree wholeheartedly, but a small part of you wonders if that’s what she meant. Your suspicions are confirmed when she groans exhaustedly.

“No, you guys are IN love with each other.” Ussop says, trying to help her out.

“Huh.” Luffy says contemplating it, you don’t say anything for once. You don’t feel embarrassed, you never do really, but you do feel curious and warm. “Like married people?”

“Jumping the gun a little there, but yeah.” Nami says, feeling a little accomplished now.

“I don’t know about that.” You answer honestly, cocking your head as you literally roll the idea around in your mind. Luffy isn’t glaring at you, he couldn’t glare, but he’s certainly making a face.

“It makes sense.” Luffy announces, staring hard at you. “I mean I don’t wanna marry Hancock.”

“But you know that doesn’t mean you wanna marry each other.” Ussop interjects.

“Yeah it does, she just needs to ask.” Luffy says like it’s obvious, which frustrates his crew, except you and Robin of course. You aren’t even shocked by his answer, it did make sense, you didn’t want to date Sanji despite him asking multiple times. But if Luffy asked you wouldn’t say no.

“Luffy you know it’s traditional for the man to ask the woman, right?” Robin asks gently, though she knows the answer.

“Huh? Then why is Hancock always asking me?” Luffy looks to you for an answer, you shrug just as confused as him.

“No clue, i don’t think I’ve ever met a married person now that I think about it.”

“Huh me either, I’ve never noticed. Shishishi.” You and him laugh again, but this time his hand entwines with yours.

“God you’re impossible.” Nami shouts, stomping off.

“Those two are made for each other.” Ussop rolls his eyes as you and Luffy start talking about wether it would be better to be a bird or a fish.

“Yes, isn’t it lovely.” Robin sighs as she watches you.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader

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alchemistc · 2 years

Text

Wayne teaching a pleading Eddie about baseball in the heat of the summer because Steve has spent months investing in all of Eddie's special interests and Eddie has come to the terrible realization that he's mostly shit on Steve's music and hobbies for most of their friendship so he buys tickets to a baseball game on a whim as a "surprise sorry I'm a shitty friend" gift except like, he doesn't have a fucking clue about sports in general and he doesn't want to look STUPID.

Wayne, with a put upon sigh, sitting in his recliner and declining to comment on the tiny green shorts Eddie is wearing because the last time he brought up Steve's propensity for leaving his goddamn clothes in Eddie's room all the time Eddie had iced him out for three whole days. The trailer doesn't have AC and it's hot as hell so whatever, if Eddie wants to continue to deny that Harrington is clearly leaving bits of himself behind to test out the waters then Wayne isn't going to push it.

Wayne, trying to explain infield and outfield and pitchers and catchers ("Okay I know that one," Eddie says with a wiggle of his eyebrows and Wayne scowls.) and runners and scoring and innings.

Harrington's Beemer pulling up on a Friday afternoon and Wayne greeting him at the door while Steve asks Wayne if he knows what Eddie has planned and Wayne shrugs because he still doesn't understand why they need a day and a half to make it to the game, and Eddie's excited for this surprise.

Wayne waking up on Sunday afternoon to the sound of the trailer door slamming open, laying in bed listening to hushed voices and the sounds of bacon frying on the stove, rolling out of bed to find his nephew still wearing his damn sunglasses inside, so clearly they'd had themselves a good time, and then Wayne blinks and his eyes focus and -

"What the hell are you wearing, kid?" he asks and Eddie yelps, bangs his head on the open cabinet door, hisses when the movement knocks the glasses off his nose and the light hits his eyes and Wayne very carefully does not mention the way Harrington presses in close to examine Eddie's head, fingers pressing into Eddie's hair and it's a familiar closeness but there's definitely still something more there than there was two days ago.

His nephew is wearing a goddamned Cubs jersey in his goddamn house and Steve's eyes flit to the Cardinals hat hung on the wall with growing comprehension and possibly a little terror.

"Everyone knows the merch is half the experience, Wayne," Eddie tells him and Wayne contemplates snacking him upside the head because his goddamn nephew has had the audacity to fall in love with a goddamn Cubbie fan. Right under his roof.

Over breakfast Steve explains the rivalry and has to stop himself from talking shit about the Cards more than once. Wayne admires his restraint but nearly shoves his own head right in the oven when it turns out Steve had likened everything Eddie didn't understand about the game to DnD scenarios and managed to make a fan out of Eddie.

Wayne doesn't have the heart to threaten to burn the jersey. Not when Eddie is making connections between the Curse and one of his old campaigns and Steve is staring at his nephew with such a helplessly fond look that Wayne feels like he's interrupting something.

Not when they suddenly have a standing appointment to sit around their small TV, Eddie in his Cubs jersey and Wayne with his Cards hat firmly pulled over his head and Steve in between them quietly drinking his beer while Eddie yells at the ump through the TV about a called strike that is "Clearly off the plate, man, are you BLIND?"

Not when Eddie comes in late one morning and leans against the door with two fingers absentmindedly pressed to his lips and suddenly Steve's over most nights, hooking his ankle over Eddie's and curling his fingers into Eddie's and stumbling over sudden sirs again even though Wayne thought he'd curbed that months ago.

He does, however, draw the line when Eddie tries to give him a Cubs hat for his birthday.

#waynes from missouri because i say so and its fucking hilarious to think of him finally finding something to bond with eddie over #only for him to be a goddamn cubs fan #when the cubbies finally win the ws eddie calls to crow about it and threatens to buy him a replica ring #steddie headcanon #wayne munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #30+40 yr old eddie munson collecting bobble heads of cubs players and dropping by waynes to leave them around like a taunt

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illiana-mystery · 1 year

Text

He's not praying for you anymore.

#i love that pay off #from earlier in the movie #when he pulled out the bible #instead of a gun #too bad he got shot right after #he probably should have been faster #oh well #still he's looking fine as hell #like goddamn #he's looking like a snack and a half #didi chill lol #girl stop #reverend leland drury #leland drury #white fang 2 #my sweet alfredo #my heart #❤️❤️❤️❤️#alfred molina

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hearttjason · 10 months

Note

Please please please AKJason x reader where he's usually a big grump, but when his s/o starts to feel abdominal pain and can't keep food down, he gets all protective and caring. They spend the week together being all lovey dovey (reader even wears his clothes..) this can lead to smut or more fluff, writers choice!!

(also I've been having these bad stomach aches so that is why I ask.. thank you!! 😭)

AN: this is adorable😭 i hope your stomach feels better soon!! :( this is pretty much my first fic..feedback is greatly appreciated!!

I’ve got you.

pairing: jason todd x (gn) reader

warnings: none, pure fluff :)

you were lying in you and jason's shared bed in your tiny apartment. the stomach aches you'd been feeling for a few days haven't ceased and you had no idea what to do about them. pain medicine didn't seem to work so you resorted to lying in bed for most of the day. groaning, you buried yourself more underneath the covers, the blanket swallowing you whole.

the front door had opened and you already knew it was your grumpy boyfriend. his heavy foot steps were heard around the apartment as he groaned and muttered curses under his breath. he must've had a bad day, you can tell because he didn't shout an "i'm home!" like he usually does on a good day. stumbling into the room with half of his armor off, his eyes settle on you- or rather, the you shaped lump.

"babe" he grumbled, trying to get your attention. you only let out a "hnn" in response, trying to bury yourself impossibly more into the mattress. he sat down on the other side of the bed after he rid himself of the rest of his armor. 'hey, what's wrong? talk to me" he whispered. you loved this side of him that only you got to see the soft jason that would move mountains for you or go get your favorite snacks at 3 am. everyone else got the grumpy closed off militia leader jason, but you had a special place in his heart.

a whine was the only thing that left your mouth, it felt impossible to even speak with this goddamn stomach ache. he scooted closer to you, rubbing your back through the blankets you buried yourself in. "talk to me sweetheart, what's got you like this, hm?" your head peeked out from the covers and jason found himself smiling a little at the sight of you. "tummy aches. they've been hurting really bad, can't eat" you mumbled out.

"why didn't you tell me, baby? i could've gotten you medicine or something. how long has this been happening?" "didn't want to bother you, jay. medicine doesn't work and it's been going on for a few days". he hummed for a second, trying to think of what to do. "i have something that'll help. can you turn around for me?" he asks sweetly. you groaned and turned your body so that you were facing him. your eyes were dull, dark circles more prominent and hair messy.

even though you looked like this, he still thought you were absolutely perfect. he smiled and then laid down next to you, cuddling you as you put your face in his chest. "i think this might help, don't you?" he asked with a small giggle. you nodded and miraculously, your stomach was feeling better. "feels a little better, jay. thank you" you sighed out, placing a kiss to his shirt covered chest. he only hummed in response and you both drifted off to sleep peacefully.

the next morning, you stirred awake with a yawn and jason was already staring at you with a small smile. "sleep good?" he asked. you nodded with a smile and kissed his cheek. "you really know how to make me feel better. are you magical?" you teased with a small giggle. "hmm maybe i am..let's get you in the shower and then you can eat, yeah?"

jason would always take care of you, that's what you loved most about him.

divider by @cafekitsune

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #dc x reader #dc fluff #jason todd fluff #hearttjason

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ebongawk · 27 days

Text

The party had dialed past a ten on the insanity scale, like, two, maybe two-and-a-half hours ago.

Eddie probably should've dipped out well before then. Shit, he was normally gone with the wind once he sold out, but something about this party had him sticking around a few extra minutes that had, in the blink of an eye, transformed into a few extra hours.

Maybe it was the feeling of the last hurrah. The final graduation party of the season at Andy Doucheface's house before everyone fucked off to campus tours and early move-ins or whatever-the-fuck university freshman did.

Or maybe it was because, as soon as no one was paying attention, Eddie'd started siphoning spare beer and snacks and digging through the belongings of The Parents Doucheface.

(Maybe he'd pocketed a couple of super nice tools to ninja slip into Wayne's toolbox at a later time and also a framed picture day photo of Andy from elementary school that he was gonna toss in the lake in an effort to devastate the people who'd raised such a Doucheface. Who could say?)

He'd already loaded his provisions into the van. Literally only came back to make a final circuit for any spare, unopened handles of liquor – he didn't want jock cooties, ew – when he found it.

The Holy Grail of a party of this caliber.

Spray paint.

Eddie looked around, but he was definitely alone in the garage. And the jockstraps inside were raging, music gradually getting louder and still hard to hear over the shouting of drunk voices. With a gleeful, maybe slightly maniacal giggle, Eddie grabbed the paint - red, his lucky day - and got to work creating a masterpiece on the interior walls of the garage.

Lost in the artistic haze of poorly rendered dick and balls jizzing onto Andy's face, Eddie didn't hear the uptick in commotion outside the garage. He was finishing up the first "s" in "ass" (as in, "Jason Carver loves eating hairy ass") when the garage door suddenly burst open.

Now, listen. Eddie's fight-or-flight is pretty fucking reactive, and he tends to automatically lean toward fight. He has, of course, relied on flight to get out of many a pickle, but generally his fists were out before his feet were moving.

So, when that door hit the wall with a loud bang!, Eddie had his lighter in hand and the spray paint up in a half-second, just about ready to burn the hair off whatever drunk asshole was coming to start shit.

But the drunk asshole squeaked, ducking down beneath where a fireball would've been if Eddie hadn't caught himself.

Because it wasn't, in fact, a drunk asshole.

It was Chrissy Goddamn Cunningham.

And she really did not look drunk at all.

Oh, be still, his cynical, stupid fucking heart. Why the hell did it skip a beat?

He'd heard, through the endlessly riveting rumor mill churned out by the ridiculous Hawkins grapevine, that she'd finally kicked ol' Carver to the curb once they'd walked the stage. But he hadn't actually run into her at one of these stupid ass parties all fucking summer. He'd been hoping for, like, one chance encounter before he took off for Chicago, but alas.

The stars were not shining on Eddie Munson the past couple months.

But maybe now.

"Well, shit," Eddie said as the door she'd come through swung shut. "You stumbled upon my lair, Cunningham. Sorry for, uh, almost flame-throwing you."

Her eyes, which had been wide with fear when she walked through the door - valid, considering the circumstances of her entrance - blinked as she took in Eddie's handiwork.

"Oh," she breathed, reading Eddie's crass statements he'd semi-permanently stamped onto the walls. Her eyes going from Andy's Dick Sundae to Carver's Ass-Eating Preferences as her cheeks split with a smile. "Oh, gosh, Eddie, what--? Gosh, that's so funny."

No fucking way she was building up his ego while he publicly ragged on her ex.

"Yeah?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at his twin masterpieces. Relishing in her grin with a shit-eating one of his own. Taking the opportunity to finish spelling out 'ass' on the drywall "I, uh, take commissions, you know. Something pretty to hang in your dorm room."

"Not something about Jason eating ass?"

"Only if you ask nicely."

God damn it. That made her giggle. Eddie was going insane.

"I wish I had my camera," Chrissy sighed, stormy eyes bright as she reread Eddie's dig at Carver. "Andy's parents are just going to make him paint over this. It won't be memorialized."

"Should I make a pit stop at the 7-11 billboard on my way home? Let the town know what Jockstrap McGee and his Pearl Necklace Sidekick plan on getting up to in college?"

Chrissy blinked at him, tilting her head to one side.

"Pearl necklace?"

Suddenly, back in the house, the sound of glass shattering resounded down the hallway just before someone yelled, "Scatter!" and Chrissy's eyes widened again.

"Oh, shoot! We gotta go!"

"Wha--?"

But she was already grabbing his hand and hitting the door to open the garage. But, instead of waiting for the door to come up, she yanked open the side door and pushed him through. Fingers firmly clasped, Chrissy took off, dragging a very confused Eddie behind her as she sprinted around the side of the house and bypassed the gate to run into the neighbor's yard.

"Cops!" she whisper-yelled at him as they ducked through a grove of trees. Eddie chanced a glance back, barking out a laugh that was maybe a little too loud when he saw the flashing red and blue lights.

"Fuckin' knew that was gonna happen," he whispered back, pulling her to a stop where they were hidden behind some bushes. A metric fuckload of kids were spilling out of the house, many too drunk to run properly. Chance fucking rammed into McKinney, who fell to the ground and immediately started barfing all that alcohol out of his system.

A couple of piggies suddenly rushed through the open garage door, looking left and right for the culprits that had used to escape. Eddie could barely see them, tucked away as they were and from a less than stellar vantage point, but suddenly Chrissy's opening it made sense when the two cops took off running in the opposite direction.

"Excellent method of distraction, Cunningham," Eddie murmured, barely discernible over the shouting. "You run from cops a lot?"

Beside him, Chrissy shrugged.

"I watch a lot of horror movies," she responded, shuffling a little so they were crouched closer together. So he could hear her, he assumed, but holy shit she was close enough that he was gonna spontaneously combust. "Whenever the heroine has an opportunity to distract and doesn't, I always get so mad!"

"Are you the heroine in this story?"

"Saved you, didn't I?"

Oh. Oh damn. She had jokes. And that sly look in her eye, tongue tucked between her teeth as she bit back a giggle.

She was gonna kill him, and he'd thank her.

"You know, I held onto this," Eddie said, holding up the can of paint he hadn't thought to pitch. "We could, uh. We could make a trip to the 7-11 billboard together, if you want."

She fucking sparkled in the moonlight when she looked at him. Some airy disbelief written across her features that Eddie could not possibly comprehend. Shouldn't he be the skeptical one here?

"I may or may not have snuck some shit off Andy's property, though." Eddie grinned. "You ain't gonna tattle on me, are you, sweetness?"

"Not if you got the good stuff," Chrissy answered with a shrug just as Hopper and Callahan burst through the front door, various drunk kids in tow. "Where are you parked?"

Eddie nodded around the corner before taking the chance of a goddamn lifetime. Reaching down, he took her hand with his again, holding his breath to see what she'd do.

If she'd drop it.

He should've inhaled, because the moment she laced their fingers together, he forgot he needed air altogether.

"Alright," he said, fucking breathless. Squeezing her fingers, he looked at her for a long moment. A moment where she met his gaze head on, some awed determination set there that he wanted to know fucking everything about. Looking back at the house, he watched the cops as they paraded drunk teenagers onto the porch. "Ready?"

Chrissy, beside him, in the weirdest goddamn event of his life, nodded resolutely.

"Let's run, baby."

#hellcheer #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson #stranger things #chrissy x eddie #my writing #hellcheer blurb #Chrissy Cunningham #vandalism #alcohol mention #cw alcohol

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wxnheart · 1 year

Note

hi! can I request each of the task 141 boys and what they would be like dancing with the reader in the kitchen at like 1 in the morning? thank you in advance if you do this, it’s been in my brain all day :)

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳 - 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝟏𝟒𝟏 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

scenario - It's the middle of the night and you can't sleep. The music plays softly in the background ("Fly Me To The Moon"), you're munching on a late-night snack, and goodness, the house feels lively and the atmosphere is just... right. Your handsome soldier is roused from his sleep and comes looking for you and your midnight waltz is born.

𝐂𝐩𝐭. 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞

His bedhead is adorable and rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes makes him look so... boyish.

Of course, he inquires as to why you're up at this ungodly hour. There's beauty sleep to be had.

You'll acquiesce on one condition. He has to slow dance with you.

Once he realizes what song is playing, there's a cheeky twinkle in his eye.

He pulls you close. You wrap your arms around each other and just slow dance in the kitchen, Frank Sinatra crooning in the background.

Your rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat and his chin rests comfortably on top of your head, and all is well.

And no, he didn't doze off mid-waltz. What are you talking about, darling?

𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 '𝐆𝐚𝐳' 𝐆𝐚��𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤

Gaz was worried something had happened to you and was surprised to find you relaxing in the kitchen.

When all is deemed well, he takes the opportunity to adjust to the light and just... let the tension ease its way out of his body.

In the meantime, you take the opportunity to pull him into your arms and slow dance.

Gaz stiffens up a little before getting comfortable in your embrace. This is rather new to him and he's never had to do something like... dance before. At least, not like this. Okay then...

This turns into an opportunity to teach Gaz the basics of slow dancing.

And at least you guys can say you had a reason for sleeping in later that day. Win-win.

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲

Simon was so damn anxious that he did an entire sweep of the house thinking something was wrong. You just watched him. It was a second before he turned and saw you chewing silently.

He gives you his signature "What the fuck?" look. ("Couldn't sleep and I was hungry. Want some?" ".....")

Ghost'll rub his face tiredly and it hits you how worried he was. Of course, the bastard would never express it in words but you practically see it in his body language.

You quickly rush to comfort him. You apologize profusely and hug him, which turns into a slow dance of comfort.

Simon will bury his head in the crook of your neck and commit your scent to memory like always.

And you will take this opportunity to cop a feel of that perfect ass and hear him groan in longsuffering Ghost as always, voice gravelly (when isn't it?) with sleep.

"Didn't know my waist was back there." "Me neither. ❤️"

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 '𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐩' 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡

Soap was also thirsty and came down to grab some water so win-win there.

You two shared a late-night snack and when what was playing, he was surprised you liked this song. Never took you for an Oldie lover. You're so full of surprises and he can't get enough of it, it seems.

You hold your hand out in invitation and with a cheeky ass grin, he takes it. You pull him close and voilà!

Quite romantic this dance is. You're serenading him as you dance and yeah, Soap's loving it. Stop, he's not blushing. Yeah, he is.

It was all well and good until you tried to dip him and, uh... you two fall on the kitchen floor. Somehow. It was goddamn funny.

You two spent the better part of a minute and a half just laughing your asses off.

And afterward, the song is done, and having shut everything off, Johnny takes your hand and leads you back upstairs for a midnight waltz of his own.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #task force 141 #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price x reader #gaz x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #call of duty x reader #just 141 things.#hope you enjoy anon!

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prolix-yuy · 1 year

Text

On the Right Flight

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

Summary: A long flight with a gorgeous neighbor takes a hard turn when you get on his favorite subject - Nicholas Cage.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, allusions to sex, PiV sex, brief hint of voyeurism, lots of fantasizing, we are Looking Disrespectfully, plenty of sweetness dumped on top.

Notes: I had the worst writers block for this, but then went on a plane and remembered all the fun/not fun things about flying. Plus traveling for the holidays would be greatly improved with a dose of Javi.

I apologize for one moment and one moment only in this story. You'll know what I mean when you get there.

Cross-posted on AO3

For once, you pray to the gods of airline transportation, let there be no one in the window seat.

It’s futile, you know. It’s LA to Boston and you’ve never seen an empty seat, but you’re hoping that this one time you’ll get a little respite. You’re already fed up with having to pay extra for an emergency row seat, no other options left on the only flight that gets you to your parents in time. Then the dread of endless questions about your work (fine), love life (dismal) and future plans (???) just adds to your crankiness. It’s the holidays, you’re going home, and you could use a holiday miracle.

At least the expansive legroom is a plus.

You like LA, but no snow in December is weird. Growing up in places where snowfall is a guarantee makes you miss it all the more when towering evergreens are carted into the Grove and fake snow looks strangely post-apocalyptic against a 75 degree sunny day. It doesn’t feel right without the tip of your nose being perpetually cold and a scarf devouring you from shoulder to chin.

Plus you still have a handful of presents to get, and the anticipation of a long flight is making you antsy about your procrastination. There are still a couple days, but one present has eluded you this year and you’re getting desperate.

“Excuse me.”

A polite voice, Spanish accented, lifts over the murmurs and rumbles of the plane. Your heart sinks briefly.

“Sorry, is this your seat?” you ask, sliding your shoulder bag out of the way before getting a good look at the man waiting in the aisle.

And you do get a good look.

A long one.

Probably uncomfortably long.

But holy hell he’s gorgeous.

He definitely doesn’t belong in coach, and if the cogs in your brain could turn at all you might have asked him if he was in the right aisle, but instead you numbly stare as he steps around your knees. He nods with a tight smile, tucking his elbows and broad shoulders as he squashes into the small window seat. Against the dull beige and navy of the walls and seats he’s a cream and maroon dream, a lightweight striped jacket barely zipped over a white shirt. Tan chinos hug his thick thighs as he twists to find the seat belt, a tiny slip of his tan stomach peeking out. You look up desperately at the flight attendant, whose expression is almost as shocked as yours, before settling back into your seat.

Six and a half hours next to this golden god might actually be a Christmas miracle, but not one you’d ever dream to wish for.

You follow basic plane etiquette, pretending he isn’t there as you arrange your belongings just how you like them. Without a seat directly in front of you most of your supplies remain stuffed in your bag - a bottle of water, your iPad loaded with movies and tv shows, snacks easily in reach, headphones at the ready. You do sneak a peek at your seatmate’s luscious caramel curls, the intriguing curve of his nose, the perfect dip above his chin where pursed lips tempt.

Stop it, you scold yourself, you’re not in a goddamn Hallmark movie.

“Sorry,” comes that rich voice again, heavily apologetic as he waves to get your attention. Pretending you just noticed him - very smooth, you praise yourself - you turn and nod with your best people-pleaser smile. “I am not sure how to make all this work,” he sighs, mouth downturned and brow knitted. A wild gesture to the lack of a tray table, or entertainment display, makes you bite back a smile.

Hot and hopeless? Oh no.

“The tray is in the armrest, you have to flip it out. Same for the TV screen. The headphone jack is here,” you indicate quietly, though your elderly aisle neighbor is not paying much attention, “and you can plug in your phone here,” you add, tapping at the ports in the armrest. His face lights up, then falls when he fails to have the correct cable. You’re not normally this forward with someone you just met, but there’s something about the fish out of water routine that’s making you bold.

“Here, you can share mine, I won’t need it much for the flight,” you offer, fishing the other end of your cord out of your bag. The man’s face breaks into relief - you’ve never seen so many expressions in such a short time - before he thanks you over and over. It makes heat tingle at the tips of your ears and the back of your neck.

“You must think I am quite foolish,” he murmurs when he finally settles into his seat, wincing at the stiffness.

“Don’t fly coach much?” you ask, fighting your smirk when he throws up his hands, the gesture too big for the tiny space he’s occupying.

“Can you believe every plane was booked for two weeks? My assistant barely got me on this one!” he groans, and the tiniest part of you loves the plight of an obvious mucky-muck living like the plebeians. His face turning to you, capturing you in an intensely focused gaze, dries out your mouth.

“You are laughing,” he states, more incredulity heaped on. You can’t help the smile and snort that eke out of your unwilling mouth.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…you gotta know how silly that sounds,” you say, flight attendants beginning safety demonstrations in the aisle. You lower your voice further. “My assistant had to book me in coach because it’s three days before Christmas, oh the humanity!”

For a moment you’re nervous you’ve offended him, the blank expression he pins you with making you fiddle with your fingers. Then he covers his face, a thick gold pinky ring only adding to the ridiculousness of the situation.

“You are right, I sound like the worst sort of person. My apologies, I will try to be a better seat-mate.” You shake your head, waving your hand at his apology before settling back into the seat. “I’m Javi, by the way,” he says, and you give him your name in return. He repeats it back to you, along with another few apologies, before leaning over to finish settling himself for the flight. The plane begins taxing, and the telltale rumble of the jets lulls you into closing your eyes.

Your right arm is warm, pressed against something amazingly comfortable. Considering snuggling into it, you’re shocked awake remembering you’re on a plane and you’ve accidentally slumped against the golden man - Javi’s - arm.

“Sorry,” you whisper, straightening, but he only smiles (holy shit can he get more attractive?) and shrugs.

“We are all on this plane together, what is a little touch?” he whispers back before returning to scrolling through an iPad. His is bigger, the nice pro version that’s almost the size of an actual computer. You begin to settle back into your plane nap when a hefty list of titles flash by.

“That’s a lot of Nic Cage,” you comment sotto voce, the rumble and white noise of the plane keeping your conversation relatively private. Javi looks at you blankly, one eyebrow quirked.

“He is my favorite actor,” he says, and the seriousness of this statement bleats a little laugh from your lips. This furrows his brow further, though his eyes do dart to your mouth briefly.

“Sorry, it’s not funny, it’s just…serendipity,” you say, adding more confusion to Javi’s face. You wave your hands, centering yourself.

“You celebrate Christmas?” you ask, and he nods, confused. “Okay, so every Christmas I’ve got this tradition with my sister. It all started one year when she said she didn’t like Nic Cage movies.”

“How could she dislike one of the greatest actors in film history?” Javi interrupts, now half perched in his seat and animated, hands flying. It makes you lose your train of thought, those soft brown eyes now shockingly sharp. You swallow once before continuing.

“I don’t think she hates him or anything, she just thinks he’s silly, and plays a lot of goofy roles.” At this Javi flops back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. The dramatics are making you giddy, a frenetic energy barely contained in your body as you try not to disturb the quiet travelers surrounding you.

“Has she never seen Raising Arizona? Con Air?” he interrogates, counting several more movies you didn’t even know he was in. Shrugging, you watch his face fall.

“She got through Ghost Rider and Face/Off before she called it quits,” you say, shoulders shaking at the exasperation rolling off his broad ones.

“Please don’t tell me you feel the same,” Javi pleads. You shake your head.

“He’s made some…questionable choices, but I unironically love Lord of War, and National Treasure is just fun to watch,” you say, the flight attendants starting beverage service.

“Thank goodness,” he grumbles, folding up his iPad to have enough space. The flight attendant moves to take drink orders, a professional smile following, “Something for you?”

“Champagne,” Javi says, almost off-hand, which shoots the flight attendant’s eyebrows up to his hairline. Warmed by conversation, you test a tease.

“You’re not in first class anymore, Toto, try a vodka.” Javi’s cheeks pink, but he does order a vodka soda instead. You begin to order a ginger ale when Javi interrupts.

“No no, it’s a long flight, you should have a drink too,” he says, the confused flight attendant’s eyes darting between your conversation.

“Oh no, that’s all right…”

“You drink, yes?”

“I do.”

“Then you should have a drink.”

“I, uh…”

Javi addresses the flight attendant directly, and where embarrassment radiated off him before is now confidence.

“She’ll have a drink on me,” he says definitively, and when he catches your eye there’s a sweet smile that makes your heart pound. “You should have a drink with me.”

Moments later you’re sipping on your own vodka soda and the flight attendant is giving you an approving nod as he moves on to the next row.

“So your sister does not like Nic…” Javi prompts, your story brought back to the forefront sharply.

“Yes, right! So after she told me this, I was looking for her Christmas present and found this ridiculous pillow on Amazon that I had to get her. It’s sequins, and when you brush them a certain way…”

“...you can see a photo of Nic,” Javi finishes, to your surprise. “I have the same one.”

“Get out, you do not!” you reprimand, the vodka starting to warm your blood and loosen your tongue.

“I do! It’s part of my collection.”

“You have a collection?!”

The next half hour is spent slowly sipping your drink and enjoying the hell out of Javi’s extensive Nic Cage collection, complete with photos. The wax statue is a little much, but the golden guns are pretty badass. You’re half distracted with Javi’s proximity, leaned in to flip through his photos, shoulder to shoulder. Tart orange peel and the clean musk of some expensive cologne engulfs your senses. Add the relaxing effects of the booze and you’re actively trying not to cuddle up to this stranger with an insane amount of movie memorabilia.

“But you have not told me what your sister and Nic have to do with Christmas?” Javi finally says, leaning back in his seat and finishing his drink.

“Okay, okay, so after that first Christmas it’s a tradition every year. I get her some silly Nic Cage thing, she pretends to get mad about it, and we all have a good laugh. So far it’s been the pillow, a shirt, a mug, and a really awful coloring book.” Javi shakes his head and laughs, catching the flight attendant’s eye to bring another round of drinks. You’re pretty sure that’s not how it works in coach, but Javi’s charisma gets him two nips and two glasses of ice palmed to him surreptitiously. If only you had that charm.

“So what is the gift this year? Pants? Shoelaces?” he teases, pouring your drinks.

“That’s the problem! I haven’t found it yet! I’ve looked everywhere for the perfect gift and I am coming up empty!” You slump back in your seat, accepting the second drink with a wry smile. “I’m gonna break my streak.”

“I may be able to help you with that,” Javi says with a sly little smile, looking at you over the top of his cup.

“Something out of your collection? I’m sure you’ve got some fun things in there you’re not showing me,” you say, altitude and alcohol making that come out flirtier than you expected.

“Even better. I know Nic,” he says, beginning a standoff between your incredulous face and his smug one.

“You’re joking.”

“I wrote a screenplay, he was the lead. We’re good friends.”

You have to bury your mouth in your elbow to keep from screeching like a pterodactyl.

“You’re fucking with me, really?”

“He came and stayed at my home. He’s an incredible man - talented, kind, humble, funny. I could call him up the second we land and have him record something for your sister. It would be the ultimate gift.”

You have to admit, that would be incredible. A personalized message from Nic Cage himself? Your sister would shit a brick. You would win Christmas for sure.

“And what would you want in return for being my Christmas miracle?” you ask, but Javi only shakes his head good-naturedly.

“Only the pleasure of your company,” he says breezily. You scoff at that.

“I don’t think my company is quite worth that.”

“I do.”

The air thickens around you, not daring to look up and see what expression Javi is wearing. Instead you let your finger run the circuit of your cup rim, hot flashes bursting along your collar. Your heartbeat thuds with twin thoughts - yes yes yes and not worthy.

Some air would probably do you good. You excuse yourself to the restroom and lock the door firmly behind you.

The tiny plastic sink is grounding under your hands, the hum of alcohol in your blood receding. A glance at yourself in the mirror makes you grimace - disheveled, tired eyes, rumpled loungewear that suits plane travel but not handsome strangers chatting you up. You splash a little water on your face, fortifying yourself for the return to your seat. Anyways, Javi’s out of your league, fun only because you’re trapped in a plane together. He clearly has money or comes from money, and once outside this pressurized tube you’d never be able to hold a candle to the life he has.

So stop fucking fantasizing about what you would do if he opened that door right now and joined you in this tiny bathroom. If he’d be soft and sweet, plying you with passionate kisses as he lifted you to balance on the edge of the sink. Or maybe those flashes of focus you kept glimpsing were signs of a man who would fuck you hard and fast, time a factor but attentive to your pleasure. Would he urge you to bite down on his shoulder to muffle your cries before he spills his seed on your inner thighs?

Are you fucking rhyming now?

Sighing, you open the door and run almost directly into the man himself, a sheepish smile on his face. Your face is on fire, nodding and smiling as you pass in the tiny space outside the bathroom. Returning to your seat you try to center yourself, but a tap on your arm directs you to your forgotten aisle neighbor. She smiles conspiratorially.

“He’s single,” she says simply, eyes sparkling, and you share a secret giggle at her wingmanning your chance encounter. “And he’s clearly interested, trust me. If you don’t get his number you’ll be kicking yourself later,” she adds before going back to her show. Javi returns soon after, a few wet trails in his hair and a fresh face.

“It is not so bad in coach,” he muses, pulling out his iPad and opening up his library.

“Even without the champagne?” you toss back, getting your own entertainment set up. The distance beginning to grow between you dampens your mood, fingers uncertain as they fiddle with the tech.

“Even without the champagne,” Javi sighs back with a wink. He scrolls through and settles on something before looking up at you, lips parted around a question. You wait with baited breath.

“Do you…want to watch a movie with me?” he asks tentatively. “I was going to watch a favorite of mine, if you want me to AirDrop it to you?”

Heart fluttering but trying to keep your cool, you nod. “What movie?”

“Paddington 2.”

After all the Nic Cage talk, this takes you by surprise.

“I’ve never seen it.”

Javi’s face breaks out in joy.

“Then we have to watch it.”

How could you say no to that smile?

Syncing pressing play, you both settle in to watch the children’s movie. It’s honestly really good, Javi occasionally leaning over to whisper commentary in your ear. The tickle of his breath against the baby hairs along your nape is a delicious shudder you savor.

After Paddington 2, it’s airline lunch, which Javi pokes at with an mistrusting face. You share some snacks between you as he queues up National Treasure, “the perfect movie for flying,” which leads you to debate whether that title should belong to Con Air.

It’s halfway through the movie (which still stands up after all these years) when your eyelids begin to pull, settling deeper into your uncomfortable seat. Javi peeks through his lashes, sliding a little closer.

“If you would like to close your eyes, you can lean on me,” he says with gentle hesitancy.

“Don’t want to be a bother,” you protest, a yawn interrupting further thoughts. Javi gives you that soft smile you don’t feel worthy of receiving.

“What is a little touch between friends?” he says, an echo of his previous sentiment.

Everything, you think to yourself before resting your head against his warm shoulder.

You dream of Javi between your legs in the plane bathroom, holding you tight to his chest as he fills you with his cock. He is whispering movie trivia to you, punctuating his thrusts with facts your mind can’t grip. Legs spread wide, head bumping against the mirror behind you, he pushes you higher and higher, hips snapping into your core. The door opens - Nic Cage pokes his head in, asking Javi about changes to a script. Javi pulls back to talk to him as he keeps fucking you senseless, swapping ideas as your orgasm hovers on the precipice. He turns back to your pleading face before absentmindedly licking his thumb and pressing it on your clit.

“Want to watch her cum, Nic?” he asks, your eyes rolling back in your head.

A jolt of turbulence shocks you awake, your body in unbalanced arousal from that confusing dream. A wide palm strokes along your forearm, Javi’s rumbling hum right next to your ear.

“It is okay, conejita,” he murmurs, your mind blearily taking in how far you’ve leaned on him, his hand on your arm, his mouth moving against the crown of your head. “Only a few bumps, you can sleep.”

“What’s conny…” you mumble, but close your eyes at his urging. He breathes a puff of air into your scalp.

“You twitch your nose when you’re sleeping, like a bunny,” he says, hand slowing to only his thumb caressing your skin. Humming in response, you slip back under, thankfully into a dreamless sleep.

You’re not sure how long it’s been when you finally rise, neck stiff and fingers tingling. Javi’s watching something in black and white, a man and a woman having an animated conversation. Straightening up, you wipe the corner of your mouth and pray you didn’t drool.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Javi teases, “they said we should be landing in an hour.” The rapidly approaching deadline makes you wish you hadn’t passed out, even if it was the most comfortable you’ve ever been on a plane. You want to ask Javi more about himself, the life he leads, the movies he loves. But the flight attendants are making the rounds, stilling your tongue. This is only a chance meeting, nothing more.

The landing is smooth and uneventful, both of you watching the Boston skyline come into view. You ask Javi if he’s ever been before and when he responds in the negative you point out popular landmarks, the Leonard Zakim Bridge the easiest to spot.

De-boarding is always a mess, but with the extra legroom it’s easy to get your carry-on out quickly. Javi helps you get it down, pulling his own out as well. You stand and stretch your legs, admiring how Javi's shirt pulls across his back while he packs his belongings.

With nods and smiles and “thank yous” said on the way out, you’re free from the tight confines and in the open air of Logan. It’s nothing fancy, but it feels like homecoming whenever you enter the familiar airport.

“Walk you to baggage claim?” you ask, Javi’s expression blooming from uncertainty to agreement. You savor the last dregs of conversation, Javi telling you he’s visiting family friends on the Cape for a few weeks. The time to part is nearing, but you don’t know what you want to ask. For his email? His number? Could you really ask for anything?

Bags in hand and a man in a suit with a printed “Gutierrez” sign looking pointedly at Javi, you finally square up to your unlikely friend.

“Thanks for a fun flight, I can’t say I’ve had a better one,” you start, Javi waving his hands in protest.

“A pleasure for me as well.” The awkwardness mounts as Javi’s driver fidgets impatiently. Girding yourself, you speak.

“I should probably…”

“I need your number.”

Javi’s blurted out request stops your goodbye, eyes widening. His do too as he stumbles to explain, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“For the video! From Nic. For your sister. I promised, didn’t I? And you were very good company, I must keep up my side of the deal,” he rushes out, flushing high in his cheeks. You couldn’t stop beaming if you tried.

“Yeah, you’re right, you’re gonna help me win Christmas for sure,” you say, typing your number into his phone. Relief dances in his eyes as you hand the phone back, sending a quick “It’s Javi” text to you. “You only have three days to get it, though, you’re on the clock.”

“Nic will come through, I know it,” he says, hands wrapping around your upper arms. He hesitates, then pulls you into a hug that blocks out the sweat and grime and frustration of the world around you. Orange peel and warmth fill your nostrils, and you hug him back, face tucking under the light scruff of his jaw. He holds you for longer than you expect but just long enough to know you’ll miss being hugged like this.

“Take care, conejita,” he says, watching you over his shoulder as he leaves. You wait for him to be out of sight before heading on your way.

Christmas morning, after all the presents are opened, coffee is drunk and cheer is spread, you pair your phone to your parent’s TV and play a video message.

“Hi Clara, this is Nic Cage. My friend Javi told me you were one of my biggest fans. Now I don’t know if you can compete with him, but if he says so I have to think it’s at least a little bit true. So to my biggest fan, Merry Christmas, happy holidays, happy new year, and if you’re ever nearby I owe you a photo, a handshake, and some thanks for all your support. Take care.”

Your sister is in stitches, laughing on the floor and interrogating you about how you pulled it off. For now, your lips are sealed.

The other video message, sent right after, you keep as your own Christmas present.

“I told you he would come through, conejita! Merry Christmas, I hope you are spending it with the ones you love. Maybe we will be on the same flight back to LA and I will get to see you again? Or...ah, I have no plans for New Years…and you know, it’s bad luck to start the new year without a kiss. If you…would like to be mine, this year, maybe I can take you out. Yes. I would like to take you out. Please. If you want. Okay, let me…let me know. Okay, bye.”

You would very much like that.

END

Part 2: A Bearable Weight

#javi g x f!reader #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi g x you #javi g x female reader #javi gutierrez x you #prolix fics

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