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samthestrangerthingsfan · 5 months

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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.

AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3

“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”

Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”

You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”

You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.

“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”

He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.

So fucking beautiful.

“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”

Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"

It's all I want. You think.

"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.

You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."

That's all I want. He thinks.

Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"

He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.

and it'll crush him.

The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."

"So?" He asks.

"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."

It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’

The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.

So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.

Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.

"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.

Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.

You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."

“Stop that.” He seethed.

It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.

Never with you.

Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.

"What--"

He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”

“Eddie…”

“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”

You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.

It’s overwhelming.

You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?

His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.

Fuck it.

“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.

You exhale his name, “Eddie,”

“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?

Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”

He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”

Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.

“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”

With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.

“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”

Warm warm warm.

It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.

Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.

There’s no one but you.

You’re everything.

I love you, please, let me love you.

Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.

“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.

Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”

“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”

He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”

Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"

He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.

"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."

You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.

"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.

Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"

A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.

You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."

You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"

You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."

Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."

"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."

He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.

"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."

"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.

You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.

"God, yes."

He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.

"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."

Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"

He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.

Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.

"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”

The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.

“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.

He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”

You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”

Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.

“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.

“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.

The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.

Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.

Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”

You’re both breathing heavy.

Now it’s his turn.

Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.

When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.

God damn...he's fucking huge.

"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"

Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.

"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."

"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.

You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.

"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.

His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"

You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.

"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.

Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.

Such a good girl.

Taking me so well.

My pretty girl.

Mine.

Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.

"Eddie, fuck, I--"

"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."

His words are like a spell.

You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.

"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"

You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."

"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.

He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.

"Hi." He says quietly.

You giggle softly, "Hi."

"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."

You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"

"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.

Nothing.

You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."

Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"

You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."

He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.

Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."

Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst

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yzzyhee · 11 days

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HEARTBREAK GIRL - sjy

PAIRING: bff!sim jaeyun x yn

WARNING: pet name (angel, baby) lmk if i missed anything, slight angst..? a lot of feelings involved, kinda mean heeseung??

WC: ~5k more or less

SYNOPSIS: jake has always been there for you through thick and thin — he was always there to take away your hurt, as he was your cure, but when were you going to realise?

PLAYLIST: 5sos - heartbreak girl

A.N: hi everyone i just wanted to say quickly that it’s my first written fic, i have no idea what im doing tbf but i just really really liked the idea for a while and decided to give it a shot .. i truly accept any constructive criticism you might have idm this will probably be the first and last time i post something but ! do let me know what you guys think, it would mean a lot !!

ps. this one is dedicated to my wife @ja3yun seriously couldn’t have done it without ur advices so seriously tysm bb!!

I. “YOU CALL ME UP // IT’S LIKE A BROKEN RECORD // SAYING THAT YOUR HEART HURTS”

Jake sighs as his phone buzzes. Picking it up he sees your caller ID and for a split of a second he doesn’t want to pick up the call. As he glances at the phone he lets himself wonder what a different life would be like; if somehow in another life he could stop caring and ignore you.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath — that could never be a possibility. He’s sure that if that another life actually exists, the universe would somehow bring him together with you and all of this would eventually happen.

“Y/N?” he answers, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Jake…” you manag to say even though your friend can barely hear your voice. “He broke up with me.” you said as a sob escaped from you.

Jake feels like his own heart is shattering. Not for your and Heeseung’s relationship that was over for now but mostly for himself. He’d seen you go through this too many times, always falling for the wrong boys and always ending up heartbroken.

“It just hurts so bad, Jake..” you cry, your voice breaking.

As you continued crying and uttering words that made Jake’s heart drop at how you seem to hate yourself now, he feels like he could punch Heeseung if he were to see him now. Even though he has been there for you through many of your previous heartbreaks and also fights with Heeseung he never heard you cry so bad.

“Hey, Y/N.. Listen to me. Take deep breaths, stop crying, angel, please.” Jake says softly and it makes you stop crying over the phone for a bit.

“You’re more than just a pretty face, okay? Don’t listen to him. You’re smart, you’re kind and you’re wicked funny.. And I guarantee there’s a guy out there who will see what I see, okay?”

You take a sharp breath and nodd but quickly mutter a “Yes” as you realize he can’t see you through the phone.

“I just.. Why does this keep happening, Jake? Why are all the guys I end up with always such assholes?”

“It’s not you, angel. You’re really amazing, you know? Sometimes people like him… just don’t realize what they have right in front of them until it’s too late. He will definitely come crawling back to you in no time.” Jake says in a playful tone but his words held some truth — even through your fights Heeseung always came back.

You chuckle and it makes Jake smile. He hates seeing or hearing you cry, especially when it’s about your relationships and how you always deem yourself unworthy of love from anyone when it’s your boyfriends who just can’t appreciate you.

“Thank you, Jake. Thank you for being a friend. It’s so late right now..I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Jake chuckles as well. “You never bother me, angel.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow at 10.”

Then the phone call abruptly comes to an end and Jake sighs for the second time that night. He knows you won’t call, especially if Heeseung puts his ego aside and comes back to you tonight.

He takes the pillow from under his head and places it on top, muffling a scream as his own mind and especially you liked to play him in circles again and again.

II. HE TREATS YOU SO BAD AND I’M SO GOOD TO YOU, IT’S NOT FAIR

“Okay, enough.” Jake says as he looks away from you and Heeseung’s display of affection. “I’m seriously happy you got back together but I am still third-wheeling here…” he lies gritting his teeth.

To you it looks like he is actually happy for you and just annoyed by your public display of love with Heeseung but in reality? No, in reality he simply can’t stand seeing you act so in love with the boy when just three days ago he insulted you, called you mean words and broke it off. Just for him to come back to you, act all sad, say sorry and you forgive him just like that.

You push Heeseung slightly off you and lean closer to Jake to take his hand in yours, giving it a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, Heeseung just really wanted to come to the drive-in movie and I couldn’t say no..”

Heeseung drags you back into him and puts a hand over your shoulder while the other is sneaking between your thighs. You giggle and slap his hand away while muttering that “Jake is right here”. Jake quickly adverts his eyes, finding the movie on the playing suddenly interesting.

“Oh, it’s getting rather chilly…” you say after a few minutes and look longingly at your boyfriend, hoping for him to get the message and give you his jacket.

“I told you to bring a jacket, dummy.” Heeseung says, rolling his eyes but making no move of giving his jacket to his girlfriend. “How about you go get us some drinks, baby? Maybe if you move a bit you can get warm.”

Jake shakes his head at his words and scoffs. He takes off his jacket and puts it on your shoulders. “Here, Y/N.”

You smile gratefully at Jake, your eyes softening. “ Thank you, Jake. You’re the best.”

“Anytime,” Jake replies, his voice gentle. He glances at Heeseung, his expression hardening. “You should take better care of her, man.”

Heeseung shrugged, not even bothering to spare Jake a look. “She’s fine. She can handle herself.”

Jake clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to say something more. He hates how Heeseung keeps treating you, how he takes you for granted and never caring. He treats you so bad and he’s so good to you — it just wasn’t fair.

During the movie that Jake paid no attention to , he couldn’t help but compare himself to Heeseung. What does Heeseung have that he doesn’t? Is it the hair, the stupid leather jacket he always wears, the bambi eyes, the way he carries himself with such confidence or the way he seems to effortlessly attract attention wherever he goes?

Or maybe you just happen to like the way Heeseung makes you feel after all. The excitement of the chase, the push and pull, the high and low that came with every fight and every word in it, making it hurt but also giving you a rush feeling.

But he knows you. In the long run you don’t actually want all of that. As he steals a glance at the two of you, he feels like he could scream out right now that you could be with him now. He could offer you love, stability. He decides to push off that idea out of his mind as fast as it came. You are happy with Heeseung for now and that’s all that matters.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, a gentle touch that brings him back to the present. He looks up to see you, seeing your soft smile but when he looks into your eyes he sees sadness lingering behind them.

“Hey, we’re going to head out… Heeseung needs to meet up with some friends.” you say quietly to Jake, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake frowns, feeling frustrated. “You can stay, can’t you? You love this movie!” he exclaims, his voice louder than he intends, hoping that Heeseung can hear the disappointment in his voice.

You purse your lips and shake your head. With a low voice you mutter an apology and start to take his jacket off to return it to him but he stops you.

“Keep it.” Jake tells you offering a smile that doesn’t quite reaches his eyes.

You nod, getting up quickly and follow Heeseung to leave the drive-in movie location. You take one look back to wave goodbye at Jake, seeing him standing there, his eyes locked on you.

Jake watches you leave, the weight of unspoken words heavy on his heart. He waves back, his smile fading as soon as you turn away.

He closes his eyes and looks up at the sky, the cool night air brushing against his skin. The stars twinkle above, indifferent to his inner turmoil. He takes a deep breath, the chilly air filling his lungs, and lets it out slowly, his breath visible in the night air.

In the silence of the drive-in, the sound of distant car engines and the murmur of people leaving fill the background, but Jake is lost in his thoughts. He thinks about all the moments he’s shared with you, the laughter, the tears, and the quiet times where just being near you was enough. He thinks about the way Heeseung treats you, and it makes his chest tighten with frustration and longing.

Jake opens his eyes, the stars still sparkling above, offering no answers, no solace. He knows he can’t keep this to himself much longer. The longer he waits, the more he sees you getting hurt, the more it eats away at him. But he can’t do it. He knows you need to know that someone out there loves you deeply but what if it his feelings would ruin everything for good? For now, all he can do is be there for you, as he always has been. He turns away from the screen, walking slowly to his car. As he gets in and starts the engine, he glances back at the empty space where you had been sitting, the memory of your sad smile etched in his mind.

III. SOMETIMES I’M SO CLOSE TO CONFESSION

Jake sits in his room, the soft glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows across the walls. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. For weeks now, he’s been wrestling with the idea of confessing his feelings to you, his best friend and the person he cares about most in the world. But every time he tries to gather the courage to tell you how he feels, his fears and insecurities hold him back, trapping him in a cycle of doubt and self-pity.

“Hey, Jake, are you listening?” your voice takes him out of his thoughts. You get up from the bed and go sit on the desk chair next to him.

“No, sorry.” Jake smile sheepishly. “You were saying?” he attempts to play it off.

You roll your eyes. “I was talking about this new book coming up…” you trail off, talking about the upcoming release of your favourite author.

Jake can’t help but let himself watch you. He thinks about the way you smile, the way your soft giggle fills the room and makes his heart skip a beat and the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you’re passionate about just like now.

And as he listens to you talk, he can’t help but feel a sense of longing wash over him, a longing to tell you how he feels, to lay his heart bare and risk it all for the chance at something more.

“Y/N I-“ Jake suddenly interrupts you but his bravery doesn’t last long.

As the moment passes, the words stick in his throat, suffocating him with their weight. He wants to tell you, he really does, but the fear of rejection holds him back, paralyzing him with its grip.

“Yes? Did you want to say something?” you ask him and look up to him just to see him shake his head and motioning for you to continue talking about the book.

And so he sits there, silent and still, watching you with a mixture of adoration and regret, wishing he could find the courage to take the leap and tell you how he feels.

As you continue to talk, oblivious to the turmoil raging within him, Jake can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to hold you in his arms, to kiss you under the stars, to whisper words of love into your ear. But for now, all he can do is watch and wait, hoping that one day, he’ll find the strength to confess his feelings and take a chance on love.

“You will come with me, right?” you say to him suddenly. “To the book release? Heeseung doesn’t want to come, he thinks it’s silly..”

Jake's heart skips a beat at your words, his mind racing with a mixture of excitement and nervousness but also anger towards Heeseung — how could he think your passion, your hobby is something silly and telling you that to your face nonetheless? Jake keeps those thoughts of your boyfriend to himself. However the thought of spending time alone with you again, of being by your side as you indulge in something you love and hanging out just like old times, fills him with a sense of warmth and anticipation.

“Of course, Y/N,” he says, his voice soft.“I’d love to come with you.”

A smile spreads across your face, and Jake feels his heart swell with happiness at the sight. For a moment, everything else fades away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the moment together.

And as you talk excitedly about the upcoming event, Jake can't help but feel a sense of hope stir within him. Maybe this is his chance, his opportunity to finally confess his feelings and take a chance on love. And as he looks into your eyes, he knows that no matter what happens, he'll always be there for you, ready to support you and cherish every moment you share together.

IV. I’M RIGHT HERE, WHEN YOU GONNA REALISE // THAT I’M YOUR CURE?

“Heeseung, what’s gotten into you?” you ask, frustration clear in your tone as you watch him pace around your living room.

Heeseung stops and scoffs. “Are you serious?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Ever since he tagged along to the the drive-in movie hang out between you and Jake and then found out you went with Jake to your book release event he started to act out. He rejects your ideas to go out on a date, he rejects initiating any kind of intimacy to you — even refusing to hold your hand, something he’s never done in your 6 months relationship.

You can’t help but feel confused and hurt by his sudden change in behaviour. He used to be so affectionate even if you had a fight and was always eager to show you off on dates and such but now he seems like a completely different person.

“Seriously, Heeseung. Talk to me, what’s going on?” you press, your voice tinged with worry.

Heeseung looks at you and steps closer. “You’re in love, baby.” he says while putting a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling softly. “But not with me.”

“What?” you say, your mind racing as you try to process what he just said.

“I think you should give Jake a call.” Heeseung continues, his expression earnest though you can’t help but feel puzzled by his sudden insight. Heeseung chuckles. “C’mon, baby. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? How your eyes always light up when he’s around or how you always talk about him when he’s not and bring him up whenever there’s an opportunity? Or how you always compare what I do with what he does?”

You part your lips slightly, caught off guard by his observations. His words hit you like a bolt of lightning, sparking a flurry of emotions within you.

“But… I…” you stammer, struggling to find the words to express the tumultuous thoughts swirling in your mind.

Heeseung reaches out, gently cupping your face in his hands. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says softly. “I understand. Hell, I’d fall in love with the guy too if he were to always drop everything and be at my beck and call. How did you not realise everything sooner? I swear, he has been so obvious the past weeks.” he chuckles. “Actually, did you know he had a presentation on the day you went with him to the book release? He talked with his professor to present it earlier so he could come with you.”

Heeseung’s words hit you like a sudden gust of winter wind, cutting through the air with their sharpness and leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. His observations about Jake’s actions leave you reeling, the realization sinking in like a heavy weight on your chest.

“I… I didn’t know,” you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggle to process the information. “I didn’t realize he was going out of his way for me…”

Heeseung’s hands drop from your face, his expression softening with understanding. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says gently, his voice a comforting presence in the midst of the storm raging inside you. “Sometimes, it’s hard to see things clearly when you’re too close to them.”

You nod slowly, feeling a sense of guilt wash over you at the thought of all the times you may have overlooked Jake’s gestures of affection. How could you have been so blind to his feelings, so oblivious to the depth of his love for you?

Heeseung leans in closer and kisses your forehead. It’s a tender, lingering kiss, filled with a mixture of sadness and acceptance. He pulls back, looking into your eyes one last time with a strained smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. The weight of the moment hangs heavy between you, and you can feel the finality in his actions. He turns and walks towards the door.

You watch him leave, your heart aching as he steps out of your apartment. The door closes behind him with a soft click, and you stand there, feeling a profound sense of loss. Part of you wants to run after him, to call him back and somehow make everything right. But you know that some things can’t be fixed with a few words.

You move to the window and peer out, hoping to catch a glimpse of Heeseung, hoping he would turn back and give you one last look. But the street below is empty, and the cold night air feels like a reflection of the unresting feeling inside you.

For the first time after a break-up, you don’t call Jake. You take the night to yourself, the silence of your apartment enveloping you like a cold winter's night. Your mind is a whirlwind of confusion and heartache, the echoes of Heeseung's words lingering like a biting chill.

As you sit alone, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, your thoughts turn to Jake. The realisation that he might have deeper feelings for you sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve always seen him as your rock, your dependable best friend, but now, faced with the possibility that his feelings might run deeper, you feel an icy grip of uncertainty and fear tighten around your heart.

You think about all the moments you’ve shared with Jake, the late-night conversations, the inside jokes, the way he’s always been there for you. How could you have been so blind to his feelings? The thought of potentially hurting him, of disrupting the comfortable dynamic you’ve always shared, fills you with a sense of dread. It’s like stepping out into the harsh winter wind, unsure if you’ll be able to find your way back to the warmth and safety you’ve known.

You wrap the blanket tighter around yourself, seeking comfort in its embrace, but your mind continues to spiral. What if you don’t feel the same way? What if your feelings for Jake are merely a reflection of your gratitude and dependence on his unwavering support? The thought of leading him on, of giving him false hope, sends a pang of guilt through you. The guilt eats at you for not noticing sooner, for being so wrapped up in your own relationships and dramas that you missed the quiet, steady love that Jake might have been offering all along. It’s a chilling thought, realizing how much you might have overlooked in your pursuit of fleeting romances with others.

Your heart and mind feel like a frozen landscape, barren and cold, with no clear path forward. You can’t deny the flutter of something more when you think of Jake, but it’s buried under layers of confusion and fear. You’ve been through so much heartache, and the idea of risking your most cherished friendship for a chance at something more feels like walking on thin ice, fragile and treacherous.

The night wears on, and the cold, empty silence of your apartment presses down on you. You long for the warmth of Jake’s presence, his soothing voice and reassuring words, but you know you can’t run to him this time. You need to sort through your feelings, to understand what’s real and what’s born out of loneliness and a desire for comfort.

As the hours pass, you come to a bittersweet realization. You need to protect Jake from potential heartbreak, to shield him from the uncertainty that’s freezing your heart. You care for him too much to risk his happiness on your unresolved feelings. And so, for the first time, you decide to face this winter storm on your own, hoping that in the process, you’ll find clarity and the strength to either embrace or gently let go of what could be.

Tomorrow, you’ll see him, and maybe the warmth of his smile will melt some of the ice around your heart. But tonight, you wrap yourself tighter in your blanket and let the winter winds of your emotions rage on, knowing that some answers can only be found in the stillness of the cold.

You don’t see him tomorrow. Instead, you chose to run from him, from his feelings and your own. The weight of your confusion and fear makes you retreat further into yourself, wrapping the cold, comforting solitude around you like a protective cloak. You bury yourself in college work, books and anything that can keep your mind occupied. Yet, in the quiet moments — those still, silent spaces between the busyness — your thoughts inevitably drift back to Jake.

The look in Jake’s eyes when he’s with you haunts you. It’s a look filled with warmth and unspoken words. A look that now seems so painfully clear in hindsight. It’s as if he’s always been there, offering you a love as constant and reassuring as the summer sun, yet you were too caught up in the fleeting, cold winter winds of other relationships to notice.

Jake’s feelings for you feel like a warm summer day. They’re gentle and persistent, bringing light and comfort into your life without demanding anything in return. His love is the kind that warms you from the inside out, melting away the icy barriers you’ve built around your heart. But now, the fear of stepping into that warmth, of risking the friendship you hold so dear, keeps you trapped in a winter of your own making.

Meanwhile, Jake is left adrift, confused and hurt by your sudden withdrawal. He tries to seek you out, to understand why you’re avoiding him, but every attempt is met with distance. He feels like he’s chasing shadows, reaching out for something that slips further away with each passing day. He even tried to talk with Heeseung, hoping that the man knows something of why you’re acting this way towards him but much like you, Heeseung avoided him.

As the days turn into a week, the winter storm within you begins to show signs of weakening. The relentless busyness that you’ve thrown yourself into can’t keep the feelings at bay forever. In those quiet moments, when you’re alone with your thoughts, you start to feel the warmth of Jake’s love seeping through the cracks in your icy defenses.

You remember the way he looked at you, the gentle, unspoken promises in his eyes. The realization that you’ve been running from something so genuine, so pure, starts to thaw the fear and confusion that have held you captive. The warmth of Jake’s love begins to melt the ice around your heart, and you start to see things more clearly.

You know you can’t avoid him forever. The thought of hurting Jake, of causing him pain with your indecision, is unbearable. You decide that it’s time to face your feelings, to confront the truth that you’ve been so afraid of. You owe it to Jake, and to yourself, to be honest about what’s in your heart.

With a deep breath, you pick up your phone and send him a message, asking to meet. The anticipation of seeing him again fills you with a mix of dread and hope. You know the conversation ahead will be difficult, but it’s the only way to move forward.

As you wait for his response, you feel a sense of clarity. The journey ahead might be uncertain, but you’re ready to step into the light, to embrace the summer warmth that Jake’s love promises. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find that the path you’re most afraid of is the one that leads you to the happiness you’ve been searching for.

“Ofcourse. When and where?”

His response is immediate, no hesitation, no hint of the confusion and hurt you know he must be feeling. The simplicity of his words, the readiness to meet despite everything, brings a small, bittersweet smile to your face. You suggest a quiet café near campus, a place you both know well, and set a time for the next afternoon.

The next day, as you make your way to the café, your mind is a whirlwind of emotions. The warmth of the spring sun on your face feels like a promise, a gentle reassurance that everything might just be okay. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and step inside.

Jake is already there, sitting at a corner table. The sight of him sends a rush of emotions through you — relief, nervousness and a profound sense of familiarity. He looks up as you approach, and his puppy like smile is like a beacon of warmth cutting through your lingering uncertainty.

“Hey,” he says softly, standing up to greet you.

“Hey,” you reply, your voice a little shaky. You both sit down, and for a moment, there’s an awkward silence. Jake’s eyes search your face, and you can see the questions and concern in them.

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just needed some time to think.”

Jake nods, his expression understanding but guarded. “I’ve been worried about you,” he admits. “I didn’t know what was going on, and I… I missed you.”

His words hit you like a gentle breeze, warm and reassuring, but also filled with a depth of emotion that makes your heart ache. “I missed you too,” you confess. “I needed to figure out some things… about us, about my feelings.”

Jake’s eyes widen slightly, a flicker of hope and fear crossing his face. “Us?Your feelings?” he echoes, his voice tense with anticipation.

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Jake, you’ve always been there for me. You’ve been my rock, my best friend, and… I’ve realized that maybe, I’ve been blind to something that’s been right in front of me all along.”

His eyes are locked onto yours, and you can see the hope growing, the warmth in his gaze like the sun breaking through the clouds after a cold cold winter day. “What do you mean?” he asks softly.

“I mean…” you struggle to find the right words, the right way to express the tumult of emotions inside you. “I think I’ve been so caught up in my own fears and insecurities that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. You’ve always been there, and I’ve come to realize that… that I care about you, Jake. More than just as a friend.”

There, it’s out. You think as you let the words out of your mouth. The words hang in the air between you, a confession that feels both terrifying and liberating. Jake’s expression softens, a mixture of relief and overwhelming emotion flooding his face.

“I’ve cared about you for a long time.. I’m surprised you didn’t notice sooner,” he admits, his voice shaking slightly. “I didn’t know how to tell you without risking what we have. But hearing you say that… it means everything to me.”

You reach across the table, taking his hand in yours. The simple touch feels like a lifeline, grounding you in this moment of vulnerability and honesty. “I’m scared, Jake,” you confess. “I’m scared of losing what we have, but I’m more scared of never knowing what we could be.”

Jake squeezes your hand, his grip warm and reassuring. “We’ll figure it out together,” he promises. “We’ve always been there for each other, and that won’t change. I want to be with you, Y/N. Not just as your friend, but as someone who loves you.”

His words are like the first true warmth of summer, melting away the last of your fears. You smile, a genuine, hopeful smile, and nod. “I want that too, Jake. I want to see where this goes, with you.”

As you sit there, hand in hand, you feel the ice around your heart finally melt away, replaced by the warmth and promise of a new beginning. The journey ahead might be uncertain, but with Jake by your side, you know you’ll face it together, one step at a time.

#— 💭 mars ; written work #i had no idea what i was doing its 2am #enhypen jake fic #jake x reader #jake sim x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #enha x reader #enha angst #enha fluff #enha imagines #enhypen imagines #jake imagines

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years

Note

hey kay bb!! hope you're doing well 💖

mando has been on the brain lately so i'm requesting fluffy smut with him pls 🥺😫 (the yearning is *extra* today)

niiiiiiiiik my darling my dear hope you are also well 💗

ok…this got away from me. I blinked and suddenly a plot! exposition! SMUT! (multiple scenes at that) all the things. I’m a slut for Din Djarin and it really jumped out on this one.

(smut below the cut, a full plot, the helmet comes off, a bit of inexperienced!din, reader is kind of a bad ass, descriptions of bodies, unprotected p-in-v sex - wrap ur shit even if ur in space ok)

sleepover saturday

uncharted territory

(word count 9.1k - it REALLY got away from me okay)

gif by @aceofwhump

Then you are a Mandalorian no more.

Din Djarin aches in a way he has never felt before, much more powerful than any injury he could ever sustain. His Creed, demolished. His son, gone. His life, upended. As he staggers out of the Covert, trying to think of where to go next, he cannot shake the feeling of lost that settles around his shoulders like a cloak.

Maybe coming to Glavis was a mistake; maybe he should have stayed back on Nevarro, kept taking jobs from Karga until he finally had enough credits to take the old man’s advice, get himself a camtono full of spice and disappear into the Twi’lek healing baths until he forgot the whole thing.

The truth of it? He knew he could never forget. There wasn’t enough spice in the galaxy to help him forget it all. It wasn’t possible. And the larger part was that Din didn’t want to forget.

His leg aches as he walks. The bacta Paz had sprayed him down with had helped some, but the ache runs deep, and the drills the Armourer had forced him to run with the Darksaber had only made matters worse. He should find a place to lie down, to hide for the night before he decides what he plans to do next, where he plans to go.

Where will he go?

You are a Mandalorian no more.

The echo of the words make his head split, and for a moment, he has half a mind to wrench the helmet off, to launch it off the ring, let space swallow the beskar whole. But he stops himself; it feels as though his armour is all he has left.

His armour, and the Darksaber. The right to the throne of Mandalore.

Maker, he can’t think straight. The ache only worsens, his limp more prominent, and it gets to the point where he can take no more. He falls onto the nearest crate, his injured leg stuck straight out in front of him. His body feels twice as heavy, his head even more so, and he tips it back against the wall to lighten the load. He’ll rest just a moment, he’ll just shut his eyes for one—

“Mando?”

Din pulls his blaster from his holster as his eyes shoot open. There’s the sound of shuffled steps, something metallic hitting the floor, a murmured dank farrik! He hits a button on his vambrace, turns off the thermal setting on his visor.

“Sweets?”

You look exactly the same as he remembers. It’s been ages, but he could never forget your face. He knows what’s underneath your clothes, too, and the memory speeds to the surface of his mind faster than a pod-racer.

Before he had an in with Peli on Tatooine, the Razor Crest routinely parked and tuned up in Hangar 3-5, he had you. You were well-known within the Guild, had more than a few contracts with different gangs and hunters in the galaxy. If something on a ship broke, you were the one to fix it, and you had enough heavily-armed thugs on your side to make anyone think twice about trying to mess with you.

Some called you the Mechanic, simple and descriptive. Others, those you let a little closer, knew you as Sweets, a moniker earned by your penchant for candies and treats. You’d let your favoured clients off easy if they were short a few credits, but had something sweet from the far reaches of the galaxy to offer in lieu of the missing cash.

Din knew he was one of your favoured clients, perhaps your favourite. Or, had been. You’d crowed endlessly about the Crest, desperate to get your hands on it any time he hauled it in for service, whether it actually needed it or not. Sometimes he genuinely needed something fixed, some times he’d found some candy or sweet in a far off corner of the galaxy that he’d brought back just for you.

Other times, he just wanted to see you.

You were sweet in other ways, too. He knew first-hand. And he knew he was the only client you let into your bed. He’d been drawn to you the first time you’d been introduced — a common contact between you and Din sent him your way when the Crest was in serious need of a tune-up, and you were the closest mechanic he could get to without doing more damage to the ship.

Your knowledge astounded him, to start. You were barely into a diagnostic and you knew exactly what needed to be fixed, what parts you had and didn’t, how many credits it was going to cost him. And you hadn’t even set foot on the ship yet. Your competency drove him wild, only spurred on when he brought you aboard the Crest to give the interior a once-over, eager to see if he’d kept everything original, or if you had any modifications to offer that he might be interested in. Din followed you around the ship silently, answering whatever questions you had, mostly just watching you work. It was intriguing beyond belief.

“That’s not much of a bed,” you’d commented, cocking your head to the side when you hit the button that opened the bunk. “When’s the last time you had a new mattress?”

He just shrugged.

“One thing you should know,” you said over your shoulder, descending the Crest’s ramp, heading back towards the entrance to your shop. “I don’t use droids.”

Din nearly fell over. “That’s not a problem.”

“Good,” you replied, tapping at your data pad, your brow scrunching. “It’ll take longer than your usual hangar; I do everything myself.”

“I’m happy to wait,” he said, dipping his helmet, thankful it was hiding the way he was raking his eyes over you. I don’t use droids. Had someone made you in a lab somewhere, on some backwater planet, just for him? “I know she’s in good hands.”

The grin you’d offered him was sweeter than anything he’d ever seen, and you shooed him out a moment later, muttering something about getting back to work.

When he returned three days later to retrieve his ship, he almost didn’t recognize it. You’d repainted most of the outside panels, replaced all the ones that were missing, and the engines were so shiny Din could see his helmet reflected in them. Inside the Crest was another story; you’d outfitted him with a carbonite cell system, top of the line and primed for use. That meant no more mouthy bounties, no more wasting durasteel cuffs and gags when he could just hit a button and have a quiet ride back to the Guild.

And in the bunk, a new mattress, complete with a pillow, and bolted on the wall, a mount for his helmet.

“You don’t sleep with that thing on, do you?”

“The carbonite system,” he nearly sputtered, rubbing a gloved hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t have the credits, I didn’t—”

You poked the toe of his boot with your own. “Call it a gift, Mando. Let’s just say I shouldn’t have had the thing hanging around to begin with.”

“Is that gonna cause me any problems?”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the p. “Wiped all the identification numbers from the system. No one will know where it came from. Except you.”

He stared at you a long moment. “Except me.”

He was sure to pay you in full, plus the candied flowers he’d found at one of the vendors in the markets. You’d smiled again at that, and while Din committed the sight to memory, he also promised himself that he wouldn’t let it be long before he saw your smile again.

And he kept that promise. The next time he landed the Crest in your hangar, it wasn’t because he needed a tune-up or new parts. He’d struck gold at a black market on Coruscant; his bounty had lead him into the belly of a sweet shop, and after the Gungan had been dealt with, Din did some hunting of his own. He took as many boxes as he could carry, trying to take one of each flavour, a few extra of the ones he’d seen on the shelf in your shop.

“What in Maker’s name are you doing here?” you’d called as soon as he landed, stepping out of the shop and into the hangar, your hands on your hips, cocked to one side. “You ruin my handiwork that fast?”

“Not exactly,” he’d replied, walking down the ramp, his arms laden with goodies. Your eyes had gone huge. “I come bearing gifts.”

“For me?” you cried, gasping as you took the boxes from him, tongue poking between your teeth. “Mandalorian, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

He’d never been so grateful for his helmet at that exact moment. He might have crumbled to dust if you’d seen how red his cheeks were. “I-I owed you,” he stuttered out, “for the carbonite.”

“You didn’t owe me anything,” you quipped, swaying from side to side on your feet, staring down at your treats. “I told you, it was a gift.” You gave him one of those smiles again, and Din felt his stomach twist at the glitter in your eyes. “Why don’t you stay a while? I’ll feed you and everything.”

You disappeared into the shop, and Din paused a moment before following.

He saw you disappear behind a dark curtain that had definitely seen better days, and Din followed your further to discover there was an apartment of sorts attached to the shop. Apartment was perhaps too kind a word; it was one large room, a kitchen to one side, a large futon spread in the middle. Trunks and boxes and crates stacked along the far wall, a few grease-stained jumpsuits littering the floor. You stumbled over your feet trying to pick them up, tossing the offending fabric into a nearby crate, before you turned back to him. “What are you hungry for?”

You served him first. Noodles with dark sauce and some kind of shredded meat you thought was bantha but weren’t quite sure. But, as you stated with a shrug, “it’s good, and it hasn’t killed me yet.” After you slid the bowl across the table to him, you turned back to the stove and stayed that way. After a moment, Din wasn’t sure what to do, but then your head turned slightly, your eyes trained directly to the left, not wandering towards him over your shoulder. “I won’t look. Swear.”

He lifted the helmet just enough to shovel the food into his mouth. You were right, the mystery meat was good, and the sauce you’d made to go with it was even better. He nearly inhaled the food, not wanting to keep you too long, and when the helmet slid back down, the mechanism hissing back into place, your head turned again, still not looking at him.

“You’re safe,” he said, sliding his empty bowl back across the table.

You turned fully, serving yourself, and he expected you to sit across from him, keeping a bit of distance between you, but instead, you rounded the table and plunked yourself down on the stool right beside him. You ate much slower than he had, and Din let his eyes graze over you. The streak of engine grease on your cheek, the scar that split your lower lip, the intricately messy way you wore your hair. A silver chain sat around your throat, strung with a tiny silver ring. It disappeared down the front of your shirt most of the time, but right then it sat awkwardly, the chain caught on your collar, the ring sitting in the hollow of your throat. He resisted the urge to reach out and fix it.

The jumpsuit you wore was nearly identical to the ones you’d hurriedly swiped off the floor. Torn on one knee, zipper unfurling beneath your chest, a symbol he didn’t recognize patched onto your thigh. You’d tied the sleeves around your waist like a belt, a dirty rag tucked in at your hip. The Mechanic, herself. Sweets.

He thought you were beautiful. He had a feeling you’d look beautiful in anything.

Or nothing.

Din was distracted by your thumb at your lips, swiping a drop of sauce from your chin and sucking your finger into your mouth. His flight-suit was tight beneath his beskar to begin with, and you weren’t helping matters. “So,” you said simply, reaching for your food again. “Tell me a story, Mando. A good one. Best bounty you ever caught.”

The conversation filtered between you two easily. You were a good listener, easy to talk to, and Din felt like he couldn’t stop talking to you, telling you about his first kill, his first bounty. His first ship, before the Crest. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you about the before, before the Guild, before he was just the Mandalorian, when he was just Din Djarin. A foundling. Part of him wondered what you think, what your reaction might be to his past, but a larger part forced his mouth shut.

At some point, he turned himself towards you on his stool, one arm braced on the table, the other resting on his thigh. After you finished your food, you leaned heavily on the table, your head pushed into your palm, legs crossed at your ankles, swinging slowly, the toe of your boot tapping his shin every once in a while.

He could see you were tired, the way you started covering your yawns and rubbing at your eyes. “I should go,” he said, starting to get to his feet. “You’re tired, and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Your hand flashed out quick — not quick enough to startle him, though — and wrapped around his wrist. You’d managed to wedge your fingers right into the space where his glove met his vambrace, and he felt you against his pulse, against his bare skin. “You don’t have to leave, Mando.”

Din. He wanted to tell you. My name is Din.

Slowly, his own hand reached out, hovering in the air, shaking more than a vibroblade. He saw your eyes trace its path, watching until it lowered, dropped until the flat of his palm met the curve of your thigh. His gloved fingers wrapped around the meat of your leg, his thumb pressing towards the inside.

He heard you gasp.

He moved forward an inch, and his hand moved higher, thumb riding the seam of your jumpsuit. You hummed, fingered squeezing around his wrist, and Din moved closer, until he had one leg between yours. He let his hand wander higher, listening carefully to the changes in your breathing, the hitch in your throat. The heat between your legs was almost stifling, and something feral in the back of his brain screamed for more.

Whatever snapped in him, it seemed to break in you at exactly the same time. You both shot to your feet together, and Din’s hands moved to your waist, to where your sleeves were knotted at your waist. Yours roamed his chest plate, fingers tapping along beskar until you hooked them in his cloak. He halted his own hands, ready to help you remove the fabric, but you handled it just fine on your own, finding the hidden snaps with ease.

His blood turned to flame when he felt your fingers along his throat, seeking his pulse in another spot. “You should stay,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a murmur. “Please, Mando, I want you to stay.”

He forced himself to nod, his mind now preoccupied with ripping his gloves from his hands. He needed to feel you, no barriers in between.

He needed to see you, something in him screamed, no barriers in between.

He silenced that voice before it could spur him further. Busied himself with diving his hand beneath the waist of the jumpsuit, the broken zipper catching on his wrist. You were even hotter beneath, and he sucked down a breath when he found you wet, slick coating his fingers.

Your body leaned into him, chasing his touches, and he hooked his other hand around your thigh, lifting you up and backwards onto the table. He could feel you watching, your eyes moving from his helmet down his front, to where his hand was jammed beneath the jumpsuit. He crooked one finger, testing, pressing it into you, and grinned beneath his helmet when you moaned.

Din hooked his arm under your waist, lifting you just enough that he could maneuver the jumpsuit over your hips, down your legs. His cock jolted between his legs at the sight of you bare, leaned back on the table, your chest heaving. Even though the visor, he could see how slick you were, the evidence shining on the insides of your thighs.

He wanted to taste you.

He pushed the thought away again. Another time, when he wasn’t smearing the inside of his flight-suit with precum, when you weren’t keening into his touch as he dragged his fingers against the sensitive skin between your legs, when he could turn the lights off and shed his armour, bare himself to you the same way.

You moaned again when his fingers found your clit, drawing a sloppy circle that had your muscles tensing against his hand, knees closing against his hips. “F-fuck, Mando,” you ground out, tipping your head back on your shoulders. “You’re good with those hands.” Another stuttered breath as he twisted his wrist, curling two fingers just inside your entrance, thumb stretching up to swipe over your clit. “Really good.”

He was grinning beneath the helmet again, eyes glued to your face as he pressed further, fingers threading deeper into you. He could feel everything, the twitch of your thighs, the clench of your cunt. You reached out with one hand, using the other to balance yourself, and closed it around his elbow, your fingers digging into the thick fabric so hard he was shocked your nails didn’t bite right through.

“How do you like it, Sweets?” he asked, leaning forward until he was nearly hovering over you. Your hand moved from his elbow to chest, fingers hooked in his armour. “Tell me what you need.”

Your hand moved again, this time moving straight down his front, past his waist, right between his legs. His cock throbbed as you palmed him, a cat-like grin on your lips as you tilted your head level with the visor. You leaned up slightly, pressed your lips to the beskar edge that mirrored his jaw. Another squeeze, and the slow pace of his fingers faltered, his head nearly smacking into yours. “I need this.”

Din couldn’t hold back anymore. Something in the way you stared up at him, eyes tracing over the helmet, told him you didn’t want him to.

“I like it rough.”

It all happened in one fluid motion. He pulled you closer, right off the edge of the table, and you spun in his grip, leaning forward over the table, planting your hands flat. The jumpsuit slid further towards your ankles and you arched your back, your ass grinding against his hardness, and Din groaned audibly, tilting his head towards the ceiling. Your legs spread as much as the jumpsuit would allow, and Din worked his own zipper down, freeing himself from the flight-suit. You made the most delicious noise as the tip of his cock smacked against your ass, the tip dripping with precum.

Your head turned as he took himself in hand, tapping your ass with his cock again. “Maker,” you breathed out, your eyes widening. “I knew you’d be big.”

Beneath the helmet, Din turned crimson.

He planted his other hand between your shoulders, tipping you forward. You went willingly, eyes rolling back as he pushed his hips against your ass. He could see how wet you were as you bent, slick still dripping down your thighs.

There was nothing stopping him from dropping to his knees right then and there, lifting the helmet just enough to drag his tongue through your cunt. The thought alone made his cock pulse.

But then your hand reached back, twisting in the fabric covering his hip, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He bent his knees slightly, notching himself at your entrance, and pushed inside.

The noise you let out was nearly enough to make him cum right then and there. He knew he wasn’t gonna last, and judging by the sounds you continued to make and the way you were bearing down on him, hands clenched into fists on the tabletop, he didn’t think you were either. He set a fast pace, the space filling with the slick sound of him driving in and out of you, your moans echoing each move. Din’s gaze dropped, trained on the sight of his cock disappearing to you. Your hand flapped at his hip, scrabbling for purchase, and he wrapped his fingers around your forearm, groaning when you did the same.

He was right; you didn’t last long, and neither did he. Your entire body clenched as you came, one hand slamming against the table, nails digging deep into his wrist. It spurred his own orgasm, that coil at the base of his spine snapping, and he pulled out, cumming hard across the curve of your ass.

Silence settled over the both of you as you caught your breath. Din couldn’t help himself, rubbing his bare fingers over the expanse of your back, tracing over your spine. You arched a bit into his touch, making a satisfied noise before you lifted yourself off the table. You turned to him, leaned up to press a hot kiss to his bare throat. It made him shiver.

“Think we could do that again?” you murmured, lifting a finger and dragging it along the edge of his helmet. “Maybe you take all the metal off.”

Din cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched, already wanting a second round. “Helmet stays on.”

You stared at him a long moment, smile on your lips. “Helmet stays on.”

He kept close to you after that night. He rarely took bounties that took him to further reaches of the galaxy, loathe to admit that he was always within a few parsecs of your hangar. He brought you a long-distance commlink so he could tell you when he was coming back, so you could contact him if you ever needed him. He didn’t worry about you, per se; you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, and he knew for a fact you knew how to shoot the blaster you kept holstered on your thigh when he wasn’t around.

But then the comm went quiet. He called, you didn’t answer. A lead weight formed in his stomach, and he pushed the Crest’s engines are fast as they’d go. Carefully, though — he wouldn’t dare ruin any of your handiwork.

When he landed in the hangar, the lights were all off. It didn’t help his worry, and it only grew worse as he sprinted off the Crest, heading straight for the shop door.

It was locked, but the lock was no match for his vibroblade and a bit of brute force. Inside, the space was empty. no trace of you left inside. There was no sign of a struggle, no blood smeared on the floor or the wall, but it didn’t ease his mind any. What if someone had come for you, spirited you away in the dead of night to some backwater planet? Dank farrik, what if someone had put out a bounty on you? His mind reeled, raced, chewed him up and spit him out.

He never meant to get so attached to you.

Din switched the settings on his visor, finally determining that all the footprints he could make out on the floor were your own. Then he saw it, sitting on the edge of one of the shelves in the kitchen. The commlink, perched precariously, just enough out of sight that no one else would think twice, but not Din.

He thumbed through the screen, saw the icon flashing with a recorded message. Your face lit up the screen instantly, and he stifled the way his stomach clenched. You looked…scared. Not hurt, not injured, but scared.

“Someone sold me out,” you said, your voice distorted and warped. “I can’t give you details. I can’t really tell you anything. Just know I’m going somewhere safe, and I’ll miss you, Mandalorian. Take care of yourself.”

Your eye were shiny as you reached out to cut the recording, and Din’s heart sank into his toes.

He put the commlink in his pocket, and returned to his ship.

He’d watched the message so many times the words were engraved into his brain. The change in your voice, the way you’d blinked harder the more you spoke. The way you paused in the middle, glanced over your shoulder with a shock of fear in your eyes.

And now here you are, standing in front of him, a pile of metal spilling out of a crate tucked beneath your arm, that same streak of fear in those big eyes. Eyes that have haunted him all these years. You nearly drop the crate as you crouch, your gaze zeroing in on the wound on his leg. “Maker, Mando, what the hell did you do?”

“Long story,” he groans out, wincing as you adjust his leg slightly, leaning to the side so you can get a better look. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” you reply, getting back to your feet, retrieving your crate of parts. “C’mon, let me clean you up. You look like hell.”

Din goes willingly, not sure what else to do, his mind racing from the combination of the Covert and you appearing out of nowhere. He lets you pull him slowly to his feet, tuck yourself under his arm. “Sweets,” he starts to protest, but you drag his arm around your shoulders.

“Shush,” you whisper, glancing around as you start to lead him in the opposite direction he’d been going. “Lean your weight on me.” He does as you say, nearly crumbling with relief. “There you go.”

The ache only worsens as you go, Din resisting the urge to lean his head against yours. When you finally turn him towards the door, he thinks he may topple over completely, but you’re quicker, producing a remote from your pocket. The door slides open, revealing the inside of a hangar, and you all but carry him through, discarding the crate of parts the moment you’re through, hitting the button again once you’re inside. The door slides shut, and Din lifts his head enough to look around. It looks nearly identical to your old hangar.

Then he hears a curious little beep, and looks down to see a tiny droid scurrying towards you. A BD-1 unit; he recognizes it from Peli’s, though yours is a little more rusty around the edges, the cleaner bits of metal painted grey and yellow. “Not now, Shrimp,” you grit, waving at the droid. It beeps loudly back at you, like an arguing child, and Din stifles his laugh.

“I thought you didn’t use droids,” he mumbles.

“He came with the hangar,” you reply, moving him across the hangar. Shrimp follows a few more steps before darting off, disappearing into a pile of crates. “Couldn’t bring myself to scrap him. Besides, not like he’s much help; tiny thing can’t even lift a socket wrench.”

He laughs out loud this time, and when you pull him into the shop, he laughs again, despite himself.

There’s a shelf of sweets above the workbench.

There’s no curtain between the shop and the apartment, instead another sliding door, another remote. Din lets out a low hum when he sees the apartment beyond. More than one room, furnished with actual furniture. It’s…nice. It’s really nice.

You deposit him on the couch, propping his leg up on the table in front of it. “Wait here,” you mumble, pointing a finger at him before disappearing into another room.

He doesn’t move, but hooks his fingers into the edge of his helmet and yanks it off, depositing it on the couch beside him. He sucks down a breath of unfiltered air.

You gasp as you walk back into the room, nearly dropping the silver case in your hand. “Mando, you—”

“Din,” he says instantly, reaching down, tugging his gloves off, tossing them onto the helmet. “My name is Din Djarin.”

“Din,” you repeat, slowly, like you’re tasting his name on your tongue. The corner of your mouth quirks. “Din…Djarin.”

He just nods. You approach him carefully, like you’re walking towards an injured animal instead of a man, the silver case clutched against your chest.

“Your helmet,” you start, gesturing vaguely. A memory sparks. He told you before — not in so many words — about his Creed, his upbringing. You’d asked, and he’d answered. It wasn’t information he gave willingly. The second time he had you, when you were sprawled out completely naked on that old futon, writhing and moaning beneath him, when he’d shed almost all his beskar, felt the warmth of your body pressed up against all of him. Afterward, when you’d both been sated for the time being, you’d peered up at him from your place on his chest. “Do you ever take it off?” you asked, your voice laced with sleep.

And he’d answered.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says now, eyes darting towards the curve of silver. “I’m not a Mandalorian anymore.”

“What?” you ask, your brow furrowing. He wants to reach out, let his thumb ride the space between your eyebrows, feel it smooth over as he kisses the spot. “What does that mean?”

“It means…” He trails off. Loaded question. What does it mean? Truly? “My name is Din Djarin.”

There’s still confusion etched into your features, but you don’t question him further. Your brow doesn’t loosen, and you perch on the table.

“What’s in the case?” he asks, jutting his chin towards the silver case still in your hands.

You look at him for a long moment, eyes sweeping over his face, over his features. Like you’re committing him to memory. He’s doing the same, almost scrutinizing your face, trying to remember what it looks like without the filter of his visor, what you truly look like, with no barriers in between.

He could taste you easily now.

The thought catches him off guard, the throb between his legs a welcome change to the pulsing of the wound on his thigh. The bacta the Covert had given him has worn off almost completely, and the pain is climbing.

“B-bacta shot,” you stutter out, shaking your head slightly as you flipped open the case. Your eyes moved to the wound on his leg, peering at the plates of beskar, the flight-suit, the discarded helmet on the couch. “That needs to be cleaned.”

Din just nods.

“Think you can walk to the bedroom?” you ask, shoving the silver case into the chest pocket of your jumpsuit. He recognizes it — the tear in the knee, the patch on your thigh. You fixed the zipper. “It’ll be easier.”

It’s slow-going, getting him back to his feet, shuffling carefully to the bedroom. You ask him if he wants to bring the helmet; he just shakes his head.

What does that mean?

Your bed is unmade, but Din barely notices. The scent of you is amplified in here, and he’s sucking down breaths like he’s been deprived of oxygen. You help him lower to the edge of the bed, and he starts on the armour. You sink to your knees in front of him, setting the bacta shot on the mattress beside him. He removes a pauldron with shaking fingers, and you’re right there to take it from him, your movements sure, setting the metal carefully onto the floor, waiting for the next piece.

“You disappeared,” he says, after more pieces of beskar have been removed, when you’ve moved onto his boots, setting them both carefully at your side.

Your brow had just smoothed out, and it pinches again. “I had to. I left you a message.”

Din pulls the zipper on his flight-suit, reaches into the pocket sewn into the lining, and produces the commlink. “I know.”

Your lips part as you look at the piece of metal, dwarfed by his hand. “You found it.”

“I did.”

Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you look back up at him through your lashes. “It wasn’t safe.”

“You’re safe now,” he says, and you reach for the bacta shot. “Tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you reply, your voice bordering on stern. “Somebody sold me out.”

“I knew that much,” Din mumbles, and you shoot him a glare.

You sigh. “Let’s just say, there were some parts in the hangar that shouldn’t have been there, someone wasn’t happy with some work I did, and then next thing I knew, there were Imps on my tail. So I disappeared.”

“You could have told me where you were going.”

You shake your head. “They were listening. Tracking every message I sent out. I couldn’t let you get roped into it too.”

“You could have gone to the Guild,” he says. He’s too distracted to notice you pull the syringe out of the case. He doesn’t see the needle until you’re pushing it into his muscle above the wound. He grits his teeth audibly, hands curling hard around the edge of the mattress. “Dank farrik.”

“Sorry.”

“I would have come for you,” he says, breath hitching in his throat as you push the plunger down. It feels like his body has been flooded with ice water, his teeth chattering for a moment before the cold turns to a woozy sort of warmth that spreads through his chest like Corellian fire whiskey. He blinks hard, slow, one eye than the other.

“Can you stand?” He nods. Or thinks he does. “The bacta will help, but I need to put a bandage on that wound, at least.” More nodding. He’s vaguely aware of you draping his arms around your neck, your arms sliding around his waist to haul him up. He plants his feet beneath him, forces his weight over his ankles. His movements are slow, languid, like he’s moving through water. You manoeuvre one arm out of his flight-suit, pushing the fabric down his shoulders, until it settles around his hips. The metallic sound of the zipper seems to echo through his brain, and he knows you’re touching his waist, moving the fabric slowly over his injured thigh. But it doesn’t hurt.

All he can feel is you.

You sit him down again, work on pulling the suit off completely. Your hands are warm, soft, gentle against his bare legs, and he nearly buries his nose in the crown of your head when you bend down. Once the flight-suit has been removed, leaving him in his boxers and undershirt, you disappear again, and Din’s not sure if it’s thirty seconds or thirty minutes.

Something cold presses against his thigh, and he flinches. “Does it hurt?” you ask instantly, and your voice is clear, then muffled, then clear again. “It shouldn’t.”

“Nuh-uh,” he slurs out. He hears you laugh, and the sound is like tinkling bells. He wants to hear it again. “Sweets.”

“Yes, Din?” Clear, muffled. His name is a song on your lips.

“You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“Mesh’la,” he mumbles, and then his eyes fall shut, his body slumps back, and he thinks you laugh again. He’s not quite sure; sleep is too busy yanking him under.

Din wakes to the sound of running water.

He’s disoriented, confused, not sure where he is until he pushes up on his elbows, looks around, drinks in the sight of your bedroom. The memory floods back; the Covert, then the hangar, taking the helmet off, the bacta shot that knocked him out.

But more importantly: you.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes. How long was he out? He can’t be sure; there’s a window on the far side of the room, but time on Glavis is different, artificial nighttime and starlight instead of sun. His armour has been moved from the floor, neatly piled on a dresser against the wall, his boots on the floor underneath. His flight-suit is spread out on a worktable in the middle of the room, and he can see from his spot that you’ve tried to mend it, patching the spot the Darksaber had cut open with a square of fabric. It’s looks to be the same kind of material, but the colour is darker. Beneath the sheets, his leg is wrapped in cotton bandages, and there’s no sign of blood seeping to the surface.

His head turns in the direction of the noise of the water, and he pauses, waits for some kind of pain to prick through his body, but it never comes. He feels…good. Well-rested. His eyes follow the sound, and then he sees it.

The door to your bathroom is wide open, and from his spot on your bed, he can see directly into the shower. You’re inside, steam pouring over the top of the glass wall, and Din’s whole body jerks. He never forgot what you looked like naked, and it’s been a long time, but somehow it still feels like the first time. He can feel the blood rushing south, and his hands clench in the bedsheets.

He just stares, watching the water move over you, cascading down your spine, rolling in rivulets over your curves, following the lines of your body. He wants to follow them too, wants to read you like a map only he knows the key to.

Dank farrik, he’s missed you. He hadn’t realized how much.

The water shuts off, and he sees you reach for a towel, wiping your face first. He sinks back down on the bed, wondering if he should feign sleep, feeling like a kid caught doing something he’s not supposed to. But before he can— “You’re awake,” he hears you call, and looks back just as you wrap the towel around your middle. “I thought you’d be out for the night.”

Din coughs, shifting the blankets, trying to hide the tent that’s formed in his boxers. “You don’t close the door?” He doesn’t know what else to say.

You laugh. “I live alone,” you say, stepping out of the bathroom, walking towards the dresser his armour sits upon. “Force of habit.”

He clears his throat. Loudly. Pauses. “…it’s a nice view.”

Your tongue peeks between your lips as you walk over to him, still in just the towel. Your hair is still dripping, water droplets dotting your shoulders. You sink slowly onto the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“G-good,” he spits out, adjusting himself, making more room for you. “Really good.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “I’m glad. You scared me, Man—” You catch yourself. “Din.”

A drop of water splashes down from your hair, starts a path down your upper arm, and Din reaches out, catching it on his finger. You watch his hand, lips softly parted, and he continues the path, drawing his hand up and down your skin, the backs of his knuckles against your bicep.

“I wondered where you were, all these years,” you whisper. There’s longing in your voice, he notices; the same feeling sits like a weight on his chest. “I never stopped wondering.”

“I’ll tell you sometime,” he whispers back. There’s something forming in the air between you, thick like the steam that still foams from the open bathroom. Din can almost taste it, and the thought he’d had in your living room resurfaces, making him twitch beneath the sheets. He could taste you so easily now. “It’s a long story.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “I got nothing but time.”

So does he, he realizes. He’s without a ship, without his son, without anything anchoring him to one planet or another, to any sort of path. He’d been wandering already, trying to find the Covert, and now he is unmoored once more, yet somehow managed to find his way back to your hangar.

To your bed.

His hand stops chasing water droplets, and he sees your teeth sink into your lower lip. He lowers his palm until it rests on your bare thigh, and he can feel how your skin is still hot from the shower. “I never kissed you,” he rasps. “Before.”

Your head shakes slowly, and you turn towards him more fully. The towel is loose around your chest, your hand holding it in place, and he reaches for it, slowly uncurling your fingers from the fabric, until your grip falls slack, and the towel goes with it. “You should fix that,” you murmur.

“I’m out of practice.”

Your lips twitch again. “How bad?”

“Few decades,” he says softly. “Since before I swore the Creed.”

“You were a child.”

“It was a childish kiss.” He pauses, moves his hand again, brushes dripping locks of hair from your face. “I don’t want to kiss you like that.”

“Just…” Din leans in slightly, tilts his head to the side. “Do what feels natural.” You mirror his movement, and his eyes are glued to your mouth, to the way your lips stay parted even when you’re done speaking, the way your collar lifts with shuddered breaths. He sees your hands move the towel out of the corner of his eye, pulling the fabric away from your body completely until you’re bared to him, head to toe.

You’re just as beautiful as he remembers. If not more.

The tip of his nose drags along the slope of yours, and his hand slides from your thigh to your hip. “I need you closer, Sweets,” he murmurs, and you nod against him, your foreheads tapping together. There’s a bit of shuffling, the blankets moved back, his tented boxers exposed but barely acknowledged as you climb into his lap. He revels in the way you look above him, your knees pressed either side of his hips. You’re hesitant to lower your weight onto his leg, and he guides you slow, giving you a quiet it’s okay as you settle onto him.

He doesn’t feel any pain; he just feels you.

Once you’re comfortable, your hands clutching at his shoulders, he adjusts his grip on you, palms skimming up your spine, mapping out your ribs and the curve of your ass. You make a quiet noise when he squeezes one cheek, the movement propelling you forward, making your hips roll into his, your core pushed against his hard cock. It makes him hiss with pleasure, and he slides one hand up to your hair, knotting his fingers in it and dragging your mouth down to his.

It’s not artful; he’s sure it doesn’t look pretty from the outside. There’s a lot of teeth and tongue, the fumble of hands as he tries to get you even closer. He’s sure you’ve been kissed better than this, and it makes his cheeks heat, makes him pull away, tucking his chin towards his chest. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Hey,” you say softly, your hands moving to cup his cheeks, tilting his face back up towards you. “It’s okay. Just…follow my lead?” You say it like a question, your thumbs swiping over his face, through the smatter of facial hair along his jaw. “I got you.”

Din nods, lets his lips part as you cock your head to the side, leaning in slow. You kiss his top lip and then his bottom one, giving him just enough teeth that he wants more, wants it harder. He grips your hips as you move, but your kiss stays tender, slow, your tongue a wet heat against his own. He’d dreamed of this, of kissing you, and this one — albeit the second attempt — is everything he ever imagined.

Finally, your mouth grows more insistent. He’s hard as steel between his legs, and he can feel how hot you are, your wetness spreading across his boxers with every roll of your hips. Your mouth is sweet, almost sugary, and he finds himself chuckling against your lips, still trying to get you closer. Your stomach presses to his as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him harder, your tongue licking into his mouth.

“Sweets,” he grinds out when you start pulling at his undershirt, insistent to get it over his head. He lets you, and when you lower your head again, your mouth moves to his throat instead, and it makes him moan. “Mesh’la, wait, please, I need—”

You pull back instantly, your eyes bright with worry. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I want…” His eyes drop, tracing a path down your body, his throat growing dry when they land on the apex of your thighs, the glistening wetness he knows he’s caused. He lets one hand follow the path his eyes made, rubs his thumb over your clit. Your whole body shivers. “I want to taste you.”

Your eyes go big, pupils blown with lust, and Din uses your momentary shock to his advantage. He’s stronger than you, perks of the bounty hunting lifestyle, and he flips you easily with one arm around your waist, his other hand hitching your thigh over his hip. You squeak as your head hits the pillows, clinging to him until you’re laid out beneath him.

It’s his turn to kiss his way down your throat, and he does, laving his tongue against your pulse as he makes his way down your body. He pauses at your chest, moves to the side to close his lips around your nipple. It makes your back arch, a high-pitched noise falling from your mouth, and he grins against you, giving you just the edge of his teeth before he’s wandering across your chest to give the other the same attention.

You’re a writhing mess by the time he’s settled between your thighs. He can’t keep his eyes still, raking over every inch of you, trying to remember every part. He can see the muscles in your legs jump as he traces his fingers over them, the more sensitive parts of your skin making you keen.

With your legs spread, he can see everything, and his mouth waters at the sight of your wet cunt, walls fluttering around nothing as he teases you with his fingers, collecting your wetness on the tips before drawing them to his mouth.

He moans at the taste. Of course, you’re sweet. Deliciously so.

“Din,” you groan out, propping yourself up on your elbows. He can feel you watching, and his gaze flicks up to yours as he drops his jaw, lowers his mouth to you. Your eyes roll back for a moment, one hand moving to knot in his hair, and Din moans into you. His tongue explodes with the taste of you, sending shocks down his spine, making his hips rolls into the mattress, seeking relief.

Just do what feels natural, your words echo in his head. So he does. He licks into you, wide stripes with the flat of his tongue, smaller kitten licks to your clit. He can’t get enough of your taste, hooking his hands around your thighs, pulling himself deeper into you. And you guide him some, your hand in his hair an anchor of sorts, tugging slightly to get him right where you need him, a gasped oh fuck, right there! reaching his ears.

It’s not before long that you’re smacking at his shoulder, muffled moans on your lips with your teeth sunk into your lower one. He detaches from you, gets one more good look and lick in before he’s following your grip, kissing every inch of you he can reach as he makes his way back up your body.

“I need you inside me,” you slur, your hands reaching down, pushing at his boxers. His cock springs up against his stomach and he groans, the sound growing louder when you wrap your fingers around him. “Please, Din, I want to cum on your cock.”

It’s a miracle he doesn’t cum right then and there, hearing your words turn filthy. And filthier still as he hauls himself over you, plants one elbow beside your head, looks between you, reaches down to line himself up and—

Freezes.

He can feel your eyes on his face, features pinched with anticipation. Your hands have found homes along his ribs, fingers tapping out rhythmless patterns. Hips lifting, you must see something in his expression, because you move a hand to his chin, lifting his eyes to yours again. “Din,” you say, and a shiver shoots down his spine again at the way his name sounds on your lips. “It’s okay. We can stop, if you need to.”

“No!” he nearly shouts, and feels himself flush, lowering himself slightly, careful not to drop all his weight on you. “No, that’s not what I…I don’t…”

“Don’t what?” you murmur. Your voice is quiet, understanding. You give a soft laugh. “I know you’re not a virgin, but if you don’t want to, it’s okay, I won’t say any—”

“It’s not that,” he cuts you off, petting his hand over your still-damp hair. “I want to. I want you. It’s just that…” He chews at his lip. “No one’s ever seen my face, while we…when I…”

Realization slides through your features. “Oh.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have to look,” you say quickly, skimming your knuckles along his cheek. “I can turn over, if you like, if that’s easier than—”

“No,” he says, not a shout this time, but firmer. “I want you to see, Sweets.” He drops his chin, emboldened by your softness, your understanding. He kisses you soundly. “I want to kiss you while you cum.” His words pull a silky noise from your throat.

He breaks the kiss as he takes himself in hand, pushes into your dripping cunt. You’re hot, clenching down on him instantly, arms draped around his neck as he lowers himself further, latches his lips to yours. He hitches one of your legs high on his hip, drives into you deep. He had you close on his tongue already, and he rolls his hips hard, catching something deep inside that makes your entire body seize.

“Yes, Din, please, oh gods, please, please, please,” you’re babbling against his lips, one hand pressed flat between his shoulders, the other knotted in the back of his hair. “Yes!”

Just as he said, he kisses you while you cum. He feels it pulse through your body, your limbs taut and then lax, still holding him close. Your hips chase his, cunt clenching tight as a vice, and Din’s not far behind you, pleasure lighting a fuse down his spine.

You pull your lips from his just as he starts to spill in you. Your hand moves to grip his chin, and you force his gaze to yours. He gasps and your mouth mirrors his, lips parted in a soft o, turning to a grin as he grinds into you, painting your insides as deep as he can go. It feels like an implosion, his bones rattled in his body, but then set on the softest bed of silk as he collapses into your chest. You hold him close, petting one hand through his hair, breathing deep and slow until his own evens out, matches yours, until your heartbeat syncs with his.

“Mesh’la?” he calls after a moment, cheek still pressed to your sternum.

“Yes, Din?” you reply, your voice scratchy as your nails start to drag along his scalp. His eyes are heavy.

“I missed you.”

He can hear the smile in your voice. “I missed you too.”

Din wakes alone in your bed again.

He thinks it’s the next morning — the rest of what he assume to be evening was spent in your bed, both of you naked and wrapped in each other. Again and again and again, he pulled pleasure from your body, let you pull it from his, found your bliss together. By the time you were both too tired to move, sprawled on the mattress, your head on his shoulder, you’d whispered, “You’re a good kisser, Din Djarin.” And then you were asleep, Din not too far behind.

He dresses quickly, boxers pulled back on, undershirt in his hand as he pads out of the room. He finds you standing in the kitchen, a steaming cup of caf in your hands. The droid — Shrimp, he dimly recalls — is perched on the table, beeping out a message to you. You’re nodding along, blowing the steam off the top of your caf, and your eyes flick to him as he steps into the kitchen.

“You know Peli Motto?”

Din’s brow crinkles with confusion. “You know Peli?”

You scoff. “That woman taught me everything I know.”

“You’re joking.”

“Swear on my hangar.”

Din just laughs, walking around the table. He slides an arm around your waist once he’s close enough, leans into kiss the side of your head. You lean into him. “Why are we talking about Peli?”

“She sent me a message,” you say, offering him your caf. He takes a sip, only feeling more confused. “Asking if I had any spare ships laying around my hangar. A replacement for her Mandalorian friend.”

Din balks. He hasn’t told you about the Crest. “Sweets…”

You step away from him, pressing a hand to his chest as your eyes go wide with realization. “Din Djarin, what did you do to that ship?”

“I didn’t—”

“Din.”

“It was Imps,” he says, trying to reach for your hip. “It wasn’t—”

“Where is the Razor Crest?”

He sighs heavily, and reaches out to take the cup of caf from you again. “Now it’s nothing but a scorch mark on the planet Tython. It was the Imps. They took my son.” The words are out before he can stop them.

Your eyes go so wide he’s worried they might pop out of your skull. “Your son?”

“It’s a long story.”

You pluck the caf out of his hands, walk around the table, pull out a chair and sink into it. “I got nothing but time.”

#sleepover saturday #my fics #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin headcanon #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian headcanon #the mandalorian fanfiction

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi bb 💕 the premiere of TLOU was so damn good and I’m so excited for the rest of the season! If you’re still writing for Joel and taking requests could we maybe have some domestic fluff with pre-outbreak Joel? Hopefully that’s enough to go off of! ☺️☺️💗

AN | I couldn’t help myself, dinner is served, bone app the teeth. It’s just fluff with a lil foreshadowing! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was an early fall day that found you walking over to the Adler’s house and knocking on the door only to be greeted excitedly by Mercy’s barking. As soon as the door was open, the fluffy dog pushed his way past the screen door and over to you, weaving around your legs, tail wagging wildly as you reached down to pet him.

“Sorry about him, sweetheart,” Mrs. Adler looked at the dog with a raised eyebrow, “he just loves people, but you know that by now.”

“Good thing I love him too. Huh buddy, you’re such a good boy,” you bent down and scratched his ears before kissing his snout, “is Sarah here? I just got to their house and wanted to see if she wanted to come home and help me with some baking.”

“She is,” the screen door opened and you stepped inside, immediately overwhelmed by the smell of cooking and that odor that older homes often had. You spotted the young girl at the kitchen table, but as soon as she heard you, she turned around with a huge smile, “do you girls want to stay for dinner?”

“No,” you and Sarah chorused before looking at each other sheepishly. You gave her a wink before clearing your throat.

“Thank you for the offer,” you smiled sweetly, “Joel’s going to be home soon and we’d promised him some cookies so…we’d better get to baking!”

“Of course,” she seemed unphased by your lame excuse, which to be fair wasn’t a total lie, “well, you know you’re both welcome any time. And Joel.”

“Thank you,” you grabbed Sarah’s backpack as soon as it was packed up and herded the young girl towards the door, “have a good evening.”

As soon as the two of you were outside, after having given Mercy a few more pets, you exchanged a look before both breaking into a fit of giggles.

“You came just in time,” Sarah sighed dramatically, “she was just about to start knitting and insisted on showing me how to knit today.”

“I knew I was getting some distressed vibes for a reason,” you gently nudged her side with your elbow, “don’t worry kiddo, I’ll always be there to save you. Especially from old ladies and their knitting. I can’t imagine a worse fate.”

“Seriously,” she unlocked the door and the two of you stepped into the Millers’ quiet house. You liked it here, it felt so homey and lived in, filled with lots of laughs and love. You cringed when you realized how cheesy that sounded, even in your head, but it was true. In the almost two years you’d been with Joel, it had all but become your home too, “did you mean it when you said we’re doing some baking?”

“Sarah, my sweet Sarah,” you kicked off your shoes as you made your way into the kitchen, laughing internally at the half consumed glass of orange juice and cup of coffee from this morning. They had been running late…again. How very on brand for both of them, “would I ever lie to you?”

“You haven’t yet,” she grinned as you nodded.

“And I expected you to always be truthful with me,” you put the dirty dishes into the sink, “did you get all your homework finished?”

“Yup,” she grinned, “finished it with enough time to even sell some hardcore drugs.”

“I’m impressed,” you snorted in amusement, “you managed to get to Mrs. Adler’s, do your homework, sell some drugs, and make it back before anyone noticed you were gone. That is some skill.”

“Totally,” she laughed as you high fived each other. Truth be told, she’d hadn’t been sure about you when Joel first introduced the two of you. And you couldn’t blame her; she was fiercely protective over her father. It had been just the two of them for basically her entire life - her mother, Joel’s wife, had left the two of them when she was only a few months old. She didn’t even remember her own mother. And the idea that a stranger was going to come and change everything? It was terrifying.

But you never pushed or forced yourself into her business, and let her warm up to you. You wondered at first if it had anything to do with the fact that you were a bit younger than Joel, but quickly learned it was all just because she loved him so much. And he loved her just as much and then some. But over time, she’d come to love you too and you loved her.

These days it was Sarah pushing Joel to just finally have you officially move in. Again, that one was on Joel. You weren’t going to push him either. This was just as new for him; you were the only person he’d dated since his wife. But you loved the Millers and you knew that your future held both of them in it. That was all that mattered.

“How about some chocolate chip cookies?” you suggested and her face eagerly lit up as she nodded, “okay but, tell me how much your dad would hate it, if we tried to make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.”

“He’d love them, but he’d never admit it,” she said and you knew she was right, “how about we make both?”

“A grand plan,” you smiled, “throw on a record and let’s get started. Maybe we can have everything ready before he’s home.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Something smells good,” neither of you had heard Joel come in, but when you turned around you found him leaning against the doorway, a lazy smile on his face. You shook your head in amusement as Sarah ran over to him and hugged, “hey baby girl.”

“You’re home early for once,” she grinned at him, and he playfully rolled his eyes, “that’s what you should be doing, as a man of such advanced age.”

“Thirty-five isn’t advanced, it’s-”

“Ancient,” you finished for him, smiling sweetly as he jokingly flipped you off, “we only tease out of love.”

“Some kind of love,” he huffed, affectionately touching Sarah’s cheek, “go on and set the dining table, okay?”

“Sure,” she smirked, looking between the two of you with a knowing little smile, “you just want to make out. I’m not a child, I know these things!”

“Table,” he groaned, taking her by the shoulders and gently ushered her out of the kitchen. She ran off, giggling under her breath, “and you are a kid!”

“Whatever!”

He turned his attention onto where you were leaning against the counter, setting his arms on either side of your body, affectionately trapping you in his grasp, “the two of you are always ganging up on me. Shoulda known you were going to be trouble.”

“Good trouble?” you reached up and put your hand on his face, swiping your thumb over the apple of his cheek. Joel always was a little rough around the edges, but you loved that about him. You loved how underneath that exterior, he had a kind, gentle heart.

“The best,” he took your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Despite his best efforts, you could still see the faintest blush in his cheeks, “just so you know, I want to make out, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction. We’re saving this for later.”

“Aye aye,” you mock saluted him and he snorted in amusement, “we made cookies. And your favorite for dinner, so I’ll be expecting a lot of thanks later.”

“Baby,” he closed his eyes and groaned softly, “you’re killing me.”

“And you’re letting dinner burn in the oven, so move it,” you put your hands on his hips and shuffled him to the side. You felt him watching your every move closely, “stop staring at my ass and help me, please.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, but it was nothing but fondness…and it didn’t stop him from teasingly slapping your ass as you made a sound of surprise, “now I’ll help.”

“You are the worst, Joel Miller.”

What you really meant was I love you with every fiber of my being, Joel Miller.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you even paying attention to the movie?” you looked up at Joel, and nodded sleepily, pulling yourself off him as if to prove a point. You’d been lying on his chest, his arm around you for the last hour as you tried to focus on whatever silly movie he’d put on, “mhmm.”

“Shh,” you waved him off, “it’s not my fault you have terrible taste in movies.”

“This is a piece of cinema,” he joked, just as someone else on screen was getting their head chopped off, “niche cinema.”

“Sure Joel,” you yawned softly, “it’s getting late. I should-”

“Just stay baby,” he insisted and despite the fact that you knew he would, your stomach flipped happily, “I don’t want you driving late at night when you’re this tired.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist as he tugged you closer to him. You were soft and malleable and let him pull you into his lap, “but you’ve convinced me to stay.”

You leaned in to kiss him, slowly at first, suddenly feeling wide awake. Your body hummed with energy as his hands found purchase on your waist and he kissed you back with just as much eagerness. He really did make good on his makeout promise from earlier. And he kissed you until you were breathless and dizzy, grinning at him shyly.

“You’re so warm and soft,” he mused as his hand dipped under your sweater and spread his fingers along your ribs, “and beautiful.”

“Is that what you say to all the girls?” you teased softly and he let out a bark of laughter.

“Just you,’ he promised, as if you needed some sort of reassurance. You beamed as you leaned into him and peppered kisses along his jaw and down his glorious neck, “you keep this up longer and-”

“We’re not having sex on the couch,” you laughed quietly, a sound that went straight to his heart. He really loved you, he thought at that moment, “where one - Sarah could walk in on us any moment and two - we all sit on here. Bedroom, Miller.”

“Fine,” he pouted and you turned his face up towards yours as you kissed the pout away. A serious look crossed his features when you pulled away, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh oh. That’s never a good idea-”

“Hush,” he pressed a finger to his lips and you pressed a kiss to it, “I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time you actually moved in. Officially.”

“Yeah?” your heart swelled and felt like it was about to burst with pure happiness. He nodded and there was a gentle hopeful look in his big brown eyes that you loved, “okay y-yeah. Yes. I’d really like that too.”

“Yeah?” This time it was his turn to ask for reassurance.

“Yeah,” you promised, cradling his handsome face in your hands. You kissed him a few more times, reverent and saccharine, before you pulled back again, “bedroom?”

“You read my mind.”

“Joel?” you paused for just a moment before either of you could move, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Forever?”

“Forever,” he smiled softly, “and then even longer.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #tlou #tlou hbo

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greg-montgomery · 6 months

Note

hi hi!! can i maybe request a rly cute and fluffy one shot of aaron just comforting and taking care of the reader 🥹

like maybe there was a thunderstorm in the middle of the night and reader subconsciously just runs to hotch’s room and he comforts her udhaidbsjanxb

also maybe a cute lil age gap to feed my daddy issues pls pls pls

ANYWAYS ILYSM NEVER STOP WRITING, I LIVE FOR UR STORIES BB

hiiii!!! <3333 thank you for the cute request and your sweet words!!!!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Nothing would ever beat sleeping in your own bed. Nothing could beat the comfort that the fresh scent of your sheets brought you, or the little light you always left on the entire night since you were a child.

Being away for a case meant you had to learn to sleep without those comforts. And you were really good at it; but the thing you could not get yourself to adjust to, were the unfamiliar sounds of a new place. Sometimes it was the sound of a passing car, and others some annoyingly loud neighbor.

That night it was the sound of a thunderstorm. And the hotel you and the team were staying at was definitely not soundproof enough to let you sleep in peace.

You had been tossing and turning for more than an hour, unable to calm your heart down. It wasn’t just the thunders that scared you; the rain was pouring like crazy and the wind was almost whistling. Suddenly you felt like a little kid again, afraid that the walls weren’t thick enough to protect you from the strength of that storm.

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes and gave trying to fall asleep one last shot. But at the sound of another thunder, the face of a certain man appeared on your mind.

Hotch.

The truth was when you thought of “safe”, you thought of him: your boss who always had all the answers. Maybe it was his older age or his intimidating appearance but he made you feel like no matter what the problem was, he would fix it. Hotch always made it better.

Without thinking about it twice, you got out of bed and ran to his room. Well, you didn’t have to run much anyway, since his room was right across from yours. He’s definitely awake, you thought; always staying up most of the night to work on the case while everyone else rested.

That was why you were surprised to see Hotch wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants answering his knocking door. But the thing that made you the biggest impression was his disheveled appearance. Sleepy Hotch was the cutest thing you had ever laid eyes on.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?”

“Hotch,” you whispered, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d be asleep. I’m gonna go back to my room.”

You made a move to turn around but Aaron was faster and grabbed your elbow, gently pulling you into his room.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said closing the door once you were both inside.

“I was scared,” you admitted. Seeing him raising his eyebrow in question you continued. “Of the storm...”

You were relieved to see a little smirk on his face. You guessed he was relieved too after finding out that the thing that scared you wasn’t something actually dangerous.

“I’m sorry I woke you up. I don’t know why I’m here.”

“It’s okay.” As tough as Hotch looked, he was the most gentle man you had ever got to know. “You can always come to me about anything.”

And you had the audacity to wonder why he was your safe place?

“I know.”

He sat on the edge of his bed and patted at the spot right next to him, signaling you to take a seat; so you did. You were close enough that you could smell his after shave. It made you dizzy.

“Have you slept at all?” he asked.

“No. And I’m tired.” You let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe I should just pull an all nighter.”

“Nonsense.”

“But-”

“What if you sleep in my room? Will you still be scared if I’m right here?”

Your stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies.

“Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” you asked.

“I won’t tell if you don’t” he said, and offered you his pinky finger to cross yours with.

You did it with a huge grin. "Deal."

“Come on now,” he said playfully while getting under the covers. Without any hesitation, you did the same, finding your place at the other side of his bed.

It was almost perfect; almost, because his arms weren’t around you, but instead were resting on his stomach.

“Hotch?”

“Hm?”

“Does the offer come with cuddles too?”

“You wanna cuddle with your boss, honey?” he smirked, and reached out his arm so you could curl up in his embrace.

“Yes, please,” you said, and the two of you ended up in each other’s arms. Being around Aaron had always felt safe, but being in his arms? That was a whole new level of safety and comfort.

“Good night, Hotch.”

And just like that the sound of his beating heart made it hard to focus on the rain hitting on his window.

His lips on your forehead and the words “Good night, sweetheart,” were the things that finally lulled you to sleep.

#WAR IS OVER LMFAO I WROTE SOMETHING AGAIN #i missed you and i missed hotch </3 #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotch 🪐#ask

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covetyou · 8 months

Text

the dark caress of someone else

part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Tess Servopoulos rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con, threesome (mff), oral (f and m receiving), bi reader, unprotected P in V, creampie, praise kink, spit kink, derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap, one singular queef (I'm not sorry), one face slap (with a dick)word count: 6.2k chapter summary: After a little white lie, you go to pick up your dads medication, only to be met by an angry Joel and a (not so) surprise visitor.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love for this silly little series. I appreciate your amazing comments so much, and I don't quite know what to do with myself.

Piggy in the middle is fuckin difficult man. But I guess life imitates art and sometimes there do just be too many holes, hands and other body parts to keep track of. Also pls excuse me but I'm, like, really bi. And Anna Torv's Tess has my whole entire pussy heart.

this part is dedicated to 'The Sweaty Javi' and 'The Hillbilly Duck Hunter' (courtesy of the wonderful @morallyinept). thank you for your services. (pls drink responsibly)

also a shout out to slasher!joel's big ol' balls (spawned by @toxicanonymity) they've been on my mind literally all week and you would not believe the ball content I had to cut from this. only a smidgen of balls remain, but the balls are there in spirit. thanks for the ballspo bb.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

song: someone new by Hozier dividers: @saradika

Your dad shook as he threw back his last pill, swallowing dry before chasing it down with a sip of water. He'd been making weak comments about needing to get more all week and you'd always stopped him. You didn't want him to go. You wanted to go.

You both knew that the pushback was all for show, but now a little white lie meant the show was over, for him at least.

"Joel doesn't want you coming to get your pills yourself anymore," you'd told him. It was a barefaced lie, but felt better than telling him the truth. How, exactly, do you tell your dad you're whoring yourself to his drug dealer?

You were fairly certain your dad knew what kind of man Joel Miller was. A Nice Man to some, maybe, but his reputation preceded him. He was known for helping out people when they got into tricky spots. Not all the time, of course, but when you had something he took a fancying to, he'd be more than willing to come to an agreement. Maybe your dad already knew what you were doing for him, for you. Maybe he noticed you had more ration cards these days, a spring in your step. You wondered if he cared, if he'd ever try to stop you.

You make your way to the nicer part of the QZ again the next day. You have a free shift and, despite your dad's protests that you should go spend it with friends, you find yourself climbing chipped steps to an empty hallway once more.

You had left the last time with the slick of oil between your cheeks, down your legs, between your thighs. It had taken days to wash off completely. You didn't mind one bit - whenever you moved the slick of it reminding you of him buried in you to the hilt, fucking you half to death in a way you'd never imagined. Embarrassment, shame, you shouldn't like this, melding together and melting away as he pummelled into you from behind. You'd practically rubbed yourself raw thinking about it, but it was never quite enough.

Uncontrollable excitement thrums through you as you approach his door. And, well, you should have known.

Each time you turn up to Joel Miller's door thinking you know what to expect, and each time you're wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. It seems this time is no different.

You hear it before you even get to the door. Raised voices - a man shouting, a girl crying. You hear muffled snippets of the argument - "fuckin' daddy" here, "you're an asshole" there. You don't want to leave, but the sound of it makes you nervous. The unexpected usually hit when you were already trapped inside Joel's apartment, not when you were waiting in the corridor for the door to open.

You decide to turn and leave, you can come back later or another day, your dad can wait. You can wait. But then the door is opening and a topless brunette is rushing out into the hallway, nearly knocking into you in the process. Tears are streaming down her face as she shoves her arms into her t-shirt, hurrying away muttering "asshole" under her breath.

You watch as she leaves, turning your head back to the open door only when you see movement out the corner of your eye.

You'd never seen him like this. White fury burned behind his eyes as he came to slam the door in the girl's wake. He sees you and halts, fingers gripping the wood so tight you think it might splinter.

"Where's your daddy," he snarls at you.

"At home, in bed. He needs-"

"I know what he fuckin' needs. Get in."

He stalks away from the door, leaving it wide open for you to enter. You follow him in. You'd been trapped in here with him before, but it never felt like this. The fear you had before was because of the unknown, the new - he was a strange man in a strange place. Now he was a man you somewhat knew and trusted, yet in this moment you feared him. You were suddenly keenly aware that he could hurt you, really actually hurt you, if he wanted to.

A cupboard door clanks shut, making you jump, then his imposing figure is stomping back over to you. Grabbing your hand, he wretches it open, pushes a pill packet into your palm, and closes it into a fist around the plastic.

"You can see yourself out," he growls before walking away from you, leaving you standing there, confused.

You frown as you look between the pills he'd just given you and him. "But -"

"But fuckin' what," he yells, turning on you. "I gave you what you want, now go."

You're a fucking idiot, poking the already angry bear, but you step forward anyway. "That's not what I want."

He scoffs at you, hands on hips, shaking his head in disbelief. You felt small just because of the size of him usually, but now he was making you feel small in other ways.

"Use me."

"Use you? You want me to use you?"

You shrug your shoulders. "That's what this is, right? You give me what I want, and I give you what you want." He'd said it himself last time, and now here you were using his own words against him.

"And you think using you is what I want?"

You look him straight in the eye, balls bigger than the universe and say, "Yes."

Angry feet drag him to you, toes stopping barely an inch away from your own. He stares down at you, challenging you to look away, but you crane your neck and keep your eyes locked with his.

When he brings one massive hand gently to your neck, holding your gaze, you try not to flinch. Joel notices, fiery gaze briefly softening, he doesn't want you to be scared of him, and allows the cradle of his hand to push against your throat. You feel your pulse thunder beneath his palm just before the pressure releases.

"You got one last hole I ain't tried yet," he murmurs, dragging the rough pad of his thumb up your jaw and across the swell of your bottom lip. You fight not to kiss it, to take it into your mouth and show him how useful you can be.

The hand drags down your body, fingertips pulling at the neckline of your shirt, before he reaches its hem. You think he's going to put a hand up it, feel your bare skin underneath. Instead he bunches the fabric taught against your chest in one fist, yanking you even closer to him, his fist keeping you from falling flush against his torso.

"Take this off," his breath whispers across your face.

Grip loosening on your shirt, you try not to stumble back as you pull your shirt over your head, cheeks heating when you briefly get it caught on your chin. You weren't wearing a bra today, but if he notices he doesn't react.

Fingers tug at your belt loops. "And these."

You unbutton your pants, pulling them down your legs and off your body, taking your shoes with them. You try not to think about if the other girl was this dressed when Joel decided to kick her out.

Joel kicks your clothes away from you, you watch them skid across the floor, pill packet clattering along with them, before turning back, the fire in his eyes back and all softness forgotten.

"On your fuckin' knees."

You thud to your knees and look up at him. He takes a step back, as if he suddenly doesn't trust himself to be close to you. The thought of him actually hurting you crosses your mind again - you wonder if that'd turn you on the same as the other things he does, the things he does to hurt but make you feel good too. Maybe it would. Maybe if he really wanted to you'd let him.

His eyes rake down your body, taking in your bare tits, nipples hardened under the chill of the room, down the swell of your stomach, across the meat of your thighs and to the dampness forming on the front of your panties.

"Want me to use you, huh?" he says, nostrils flaring as his hands flex beside him.

Your eyes flick to his crotch. You'd only been this close to him in your fantasies, but you find you're salivating just as much as you do in your dreams, aching to run your hands across him and really, finally, feel him.

As if reading your mind, his hand caresses across the front of his pants. Where there had been nothing but the soft shape of him before was a growing tent as he hardened before you. "You want this?"

You nod.

He threads a hand through your hair, scratching at your scalp and cradling your head in his palm. He forces your head back further, until you're looking directly up at him.

"You're gonna have to ask nicely for it, sweetheart."

"Please can I have it," you beg, sounding as needy as you feel. You've never needed anything more than you need this. You know he can see it in your face, in the way you lick your lips as you take him in.

He yanks his pants down in an instant, cock bouncing from their confines. He grabs it in his fist, large hand stroking gently up his length to tug at his tip as he grows. It looks huge in his hand, but you know it'd look so much bigger in yours.

You look up at him wide eyed as you watch him stroke himself. A few strokes and he's solid already. For all you've done with him, for how you've had him inside you, you've never seen it this close. Never seen how veins ripple under skin, foreskin moves back with the movement of his hand to reveal his flushed tip, slit beckoning you to taste.

"Please can I have your co- "

The hard length of him collides harshly with the side of your face. Your lips part in a gasp. You stop yourself from chasing it and engulfing it with your mouth. He hasn't said you could, and you're not stepping a toe out of line. He needs you to be good.

"You really want it?" he teases.

You nod frantically. You must look dumb, like one of those nodding dog ornaments from years ago - glassy eyed and head bobbing at just about anything.

"Kiss it." You do, hesitantly placing a gentle kiss to one side of his tip, then the other, before placing an even softer kiss to his slit. There's a thrill knowing you'd never kissed any part of him before, knowing that the first time you'd pressed your lips to him it was to his cock. If anyone ever found out maybe you'd be embarrassed, but here, in this room, all you wanted was more.

Swallowing heavily and lifting his shaft, he pulls your head closer to him. "Kiss 'em. They wanna feel good too, sweetheart."

You place more soft kisses across the delicate skin of his balls, pushing down the temptation to taste him. Your eyes never leave his face, and his never leave yours. He looks so horny he could smash you through a fucking wall, and you don't think you'd mind if he did.

You keep kissing until he pulls your head back. He's started gently stroking himself again, getting himself off as he watched you worship his balls.

"You wanna taste?"

"I wanna taste," you swallow, sinking down as you spread your knees wide to stop the temptation of rubbing your thighs together, desperate for relief he hasn't said you can have.

"Show me how much you want it."

You snap your jaw open for him, eager to taste more than the swipe of cum he'd spread over your lips weeks ago, as he fists his cock gently over your face. He's teasing you with it still when a whine catches in your throat.

Another tug to your hair tilts your head back, but your eyes strain down to look at the bead of cum that's about to drip from the tip of him. He leans over you, cock in hand and your head held in the other. You watch as he spits down into your mouth, saliva cooling as it falls from his mouth to yours, landing cold on your waiting tongue.

"Good girl. So desperate for it. Keep it open." He moves his dripping tip to your mouth before you can react, swiping it across your tongue, mixing his precum with your, and his, saliva.

You hear it before he does - the sound of a key jingling and a lock turning. It startles you, fright springing across your face as he frowns down at you. You keep your mouth open as the door swings open behind you, exposing your naked body to the hallway and whoever has just entered.

"You home, old man?" a familiar voice you can't place calls out, before the very same voice lets out a low whistle when it catches sight of you.

The door is kicked shut, and there's a thud on the table. Joel is still brandishing his cock as he stares daggers over your head at the intruder. Your fucking mouth is open.

"You mind? I'm busy," he says, wiping the tip of his cock over your tongue again. You salivate at the salty taste of him and try to swallow.

Light footsteps head toward where you kneel on the floor before Joel, knees spread, head up, eyes darting between his face and his grip on his cock.

"Well then, hello there pretty girl." You remember that voice.

Finally letting your eyes flick to the side, you see her. Tess. She seems to recognize you at the same time as you do, a smile pulling across her face as your mouth falls slack in shock.

She'd been your fathers dealer before you were handed off one day to a new one. Your dad hadn't given details on why, but you had a feeling you knew. She'd helped you once too, when a few too many sick days had meant too few cards to get by. That had been your first time on your knees for someone at the promise of pills, and at the time you thought it would be your last.

Joel watches as she approaches and looks down at you on your knees. His hand hasn't left his cock, and he's tugging on himself as he watches, another bead of precum you desperately want to lick collecting at his head. He moves his hand from its place in your hair and starts stroking his heavy balls with it as he watches you.

"How's your daddy?" she pouts in mock empathy before addressing Joel, laughing.

"Gotta say, didn't expect this when I handed 'em off to you. Told you the daughter's mouth was good, didn't I?"

"I wouldn't know, I was only just about to find out," he grits out. His hands are still slowly working over himself as he talks to her. You watch as his eyes roam up and down her body, then flick to you down at his feet. Your body heats as you watch him ogle her - you think it may be jealousy until your own eyes trail the same path down her body before resting back on Joel. What difference is there between jealousy and desire, really.

"The first time you get to mess with one, and I get to witness it? Lucky me," she grins as she watches Joel thread a hand back through your hair, drawing your attention back to him completely.

"S'not the first time," he whispers as he pulls you forward, nodding at you to open your mouth once more.

"Then what the fuck have you been doing with her?"

Joel rolls his eyes at her, instead opting to feed the head of his cock into your mouth.

Your mouth engulfs his tip, warm and wet, he sucks in a breath closing his eyes, grip tightening in your hair. You let your tongue swirl around him, feeling the ridge of his head and tasting the bitter sweet salt of his cum on his skin. Your fingers curl into the rough fabric of his pants, anchoring you to him as you bob your head over his tip, circling your tongue over every inch of it.

"Oh fuck, that's right," he moans. "That taste good?"

He looks down as you nod, your moan of confirmation around his cock pulling another groan from his chest as his eyes fall closed again.

"Fuck yeah, it does."

Tess had all but gone from your mind until you hear the tap of shoes on the floor, and feel as she crouches beside you. A soft hand comes to your face, stroking the hollow of your cheek as you suck more of Joel's cock into your mouth.

You feel soft lips press a kiss to that very same hollow, the feeling of being kissed making you sigh. His eyes snap open, he'd been so lost in the feeling of your mouth on him that he hadn't noticed Tess's approach either. Now he was looking down at two women at his feet, eyes burning holes into yours where they fluttered in your head.

She begins nuzzling your hair, your neck, placing soft kisses across your bare skin. You keep your focus on Joel, staring at him with the same intensity he stares at you. Soft hands start to roam up and down your body, squeezing your chest, pinching your nipples, dragging short nails across your stomach, her every move making you shudder.

"Can't say I ever imagined a sweet little thing like you doing this," she whispers into your ear. You can hear the sickly sweet smile in her voice.

You moan into Joel's cock as she touches you, taking yet more of him into your mouth. You want to touch it, hold the heft of it in your hand, but you never have before. You don't know if you're allowed. You inch your hand up his pants to his crotch, stroking the exposed skin at the base of him with your fingertips. The hand in your hair twitches, and you hear a strangled moan from above you.

"Fuuck."

Another shift of your hand and your hand wraps around his thick base, fingertips unable to meet even if you squeezed. Holding him steady, you can finally angle him down so you can draw more of his cock into your mouth. You flick your tongue along his tip again as you swallow around him with a moan.

"That's it. Show me how much you can take."

At the instruction, Tess knocks his hand away from your hair, bringing both of her own to hold either side of your head. She fucks your mouth up and down his length, Joel moaning deep as his hand finds yours on his pants and grips your fingers tightly.

You'd been longing to feel his lips on yours so much that you'd never considered what his hand might feel like on yours. It's the opposite of electric - the heavy heat of his rough hand grounding you, finally, as you take him in in full clarity.

"Shit that's good," he sighs as you're dragged along him by Tess's hands.

"You hear that? He thinks you're doing a good job," Tess says from beside you, pushing your head down to take more of him with a kiss to your cheek.

You start to gag as she pushes you down - it had been so long since you'd done this, and Joel's size wasn't exactly forgiving to the less experienced - but you carry on, moaning again when the welcome distraction of Tess's body pushes against yours.

"Nothin' but a cocksucking slut, huh?" Joel murmurs down to you almost affectionately, moving a stray hair from across your face. Yes you want to say, but it comes out a garbled mess as Tess laughs at you once again.

With another firm push of your head, your mouth slips down and takes Joel even further to the back of your throat. You cough and splutter, trying to push yourself back using your hand against Joel's thick thighs, but Tess holds you down with his cock buried in your throat. Joel's hand grips yours tighter still.

"Don't," he snarls. "If I wanted her chokin' on it I'd fuck her face."

"Maybe I want her to choke on it," Tess counters from beside you with another laugh, but she relents anyway.

You pull back with a gasp and take a gulp of air before kissing the tip of his cock. You don't want to let go of it for a minute. You lick long stripes up his length, collecting the strings of saliva you'd left behind, before encasing him in your mouth once more. If you were anywhere else you'd maybe feel shame at your need for him, and your need to please him, but the heat of their eyes burning into you does nothing but light a fire between your legs.

Tess sees it, moving a hand down from bobbing your head on Joel's cock, down your bare torso and cupping your clothed pussy. Her slender fingers feel so much more delicate compared to Joel's thick calloused ones as they rub over you, your moans muffled by the fullness of the cock in your mouth.

"She's so wet, Joel," you hear her say through Joel's groan and the blood rushing in your ears.

Your hips start to rock into Tess's hand of their own accord, aching to find more friction and finally get some relief. She yanks your panties to the side, using one of her fingers to trace the seam of you before gently tickling your clit. If she could only feel how damp you were before, she could definitely feel the drip of slick from your cunt now.

Slender fingers plunge into you, fucking your desperate hole with force as you work your mouth over Joel's cock. You're left empty for half a second before her fingers are back in you, more this time, stretching you further so suddenly that your legs widen to accommodate the pull of fingers inside you.

"All four fingers, good girl," Tess coos.

"Four?" grunts Joel. Tess nods, laughing, and Joel throws his head back with a groan.

"I bet we could fit a whole hand up here," she says with another kiss to your cheek.

You were naive before to think she wouldn't, couldn't, hurt you the way you thought Joel could. You were wrong, you realized now, as her fingers plunged into you, stretching wide, words taunting in your ear as she forced your head back and forth over Joel's cock.

Her fingers leave your cunt entirely, leaving you empty and gaping. She pulls you off of Joel, replacing his cock in your mouth with her glistening fingers. You clean your own slick from them, moaning at the tang of your own pussy mixing with the flavor of Joel still on your tongue. His eyes never leave you and his hand never gives up its grip on yours.

"You like the taste of pussy, don't you?" Tess whispers in your ear, pushing you back onto Joel.

"Mhm."

"I think we can do something about that," she murmurs. "Can't we Joel." You both look up at him from your knees. He growls, nodding stiffly.

You're being hauled to your feet and pushed to the couch before you know what's going on. The blood rushes to your head and the room spins when you're pushed roughly over the arm, watching as Tess unbuttons her pants and pulls them down her legs.

She lounges back on the other arm of the sofa, spreading her legs and beckoning you to come between them. You ignore the ache in your knees from the hard wood of the floorboards as you crawl over, settling between her soft thighs and looking up at her with parted mouth. You would do anything right now, desperate for any relief from anyone.

Joel has followed behind, watching your ass sway as you crawled to her. Your panties are still skewed to the side, and you know he's looking at the mess of arousal between your legs. Tess may have been the one with her fingers buried in you, but you hope he knows he's just as responsible for your glistening cunt.

"C'mon," he growls, landing a swat to your ass. "Lemme see you eat that pussy."

You stare at Tess's bare cunt, feeling needy in ways you can't even explain, and move to lower your head, eager to taste her again.

She grabs you by the hair before your mouth can touch her.

"No teasing now. You remember what I told you?" You nod. You remembered every fucking part - exactly how she liked to come undone. Sometimes you imagined her doing the same to you.

She pulls your face down toward her cunt, and you stick out your tongue, hungry to taste her. You lick her gently at first, small licks across the swelling of her clit and her flushed lips. You lick further down, parting her folds to taste at her entrance - for all her laughing and teasing, her pussy was as much of a traitor as yours when exposed like this. She was dripping.

Joel's rough hands pull your ass toward him, dragging your panties down to your knees, hobbling you. The couch dips and creaks behind you as he brings a foot up to better line up with your hole. The wetness of his cock slides through your slick folds once, twice, then notches the tip at your entrance before he pushes in in one, sheathing himself completely in the heat of your body. You moan and gasp around Tess's clit, never stopping the movement of your tongue.

"Not sure she can handle it," she half chuckles, half moans.

"She can," grits out Joel. "S'taken worse." He slides out and punches all the way back in again, the feeling of his hips snapping against your ass so much less overwhelming when his cock was in your pussy and not your ass. You try desperately to keep up the movements of your mouth, wanting to feel Tess come undone at your hands, but blocking out Joel entirely is impossible with the distracting pound of his cock into you.

Tess grabs more of your hair, pulling it away from your neck and giving him a better view of you and her cunt.

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart," he groans now that he can see more clearly. "Lick that pussy."

"Been a while since you had multiple girls over, huh?" Tess taunts, throwing her head back before Joel can reply.

He nods, pulling your hips back into his as he thrusts forward. "Too fuckin' long." He groans again, meaty hands gripping your ass cheeks hard and pulling you apart at the seams as he pounds into you.

You slip a finger into her wet heat, curling it upwards as you feel inside of her. She's as slick as you, and you wonder if she's ever taken Joel as you have. The thought makes you moan again, just as Joel picks up the pace of his thrusts, slamming into you so hard your mouth jerks over Tess's cunt.

You try to steady yourself, fluttering your tongue flutters over Tess's clit, circling and suckling it into your mouth. You ignore the sensation building inside you as Joel's balls smack against your neglected clit each time he buries himself in you. It's too many feelings, too many sensations all at once.

Joel's hips stutter as he slams his cock into you, chasing his own release, already so close after you'd had him in your mouth for so long. Even closer from watching Tess tease you with her fingers buried in your needy cunt, watching your tongue lathe over hers.

You hear a strangled "Fuck" before he slams his hips forward again, slick cock slipping deep inside you as he floods your pussy with warm, wet cum. You moan into Tess's clit as you feel yourself heat from the inside out.

"Shit. Shit," he sighs from behind you. You want to turn to look at the fucked out look on his face. You nearly do.

"Don't stop, almost there," pants Tess, almost begging you with your face still buried in her wet heat, lapping at her clit with a finger curled inside her. "Pretty girl, almost there," she croons, stroking your hair and rocking into your face.

Gentle circles on her clit turn firmer, more rapid, and the hand in your hair grips you tighter as you pull her release from her. She grinds against your face, pussy throbbing as you lick her pulsing clit through her orgasm.

That same hand yanks you back a moment later, too sensitive to continue, before she relaxes back into the couch with a sigh.

"She's good, Joel," she breathes, a hand idly stroking your hair. You hear Joel grunt in agreement from behind you, his hands still holding onto your ass, and your cheeks heat with the praise.

He moves away, pulling his cock from where it had softened inside you, watching as a small trickle of cum escapes to drip down to your neglected clit.

"Looks like you earned your meds today," Tess laughs, patting your cheek, before standing to pull her pants back on without another word to you.

Still on your hands and knees on the couch, you watch her approach Joel, kissing him on the side of the mouth as he stares, breathing deeply, at your ass. His cum is still dribbling out of you. You flip to sit back on your ass, trying to stop its escape making too much of a mess on his furniture.

She whispers something into his ear, moves to the door, looks at you with a smirk one last time before opening it and leaving.

The door snaps shut, and she's gone.

As soon as the door closes he's on you again, pushing you back down into the couch with a growl. The air is knocked out of you as your back thuds down and he hoists your legs back, folding you in two.

Holding you down and open, the wetness of his mouth engulfs your pussy, slurping your clit into his mouth.

He's devouring you, eagerly eating all of his cum out your hole and cleaning you of his creamy spend.

You moan and twitch beneath him, having spent the last fuck knows how long with your mouth full but the desperate need in your pussy neglected. You'd hoped he could fuck an orgasm out of you, but as soon as the pressure of his cock in you had gotten good, the slap of his balls against your clit hard enough to send a thrill through you, he'd stuttered to a stop, leaving you with an aching pussy and nothing to show for it.

A strong arm pins you down, keeping your legs back, feet in the air. Two of his thick fingers thrust into you, before he pulls them out, licking them clean, then he plunges three straight back in, stretching you more than Tess's four ever had and making you whine, high pitched and needy, for more.

You're so close, so near to falling over the edge, but his desperate licks are too desperate, not focussed enough on your oversensitive pussy, too frantic. You feel like you've been edged for hours, but your clit has barely been touched until now. It's been left starving, aching for attention.

"Joel!" you ground out desperately, looking between your thrown back legs where he feasts on you. His eyes catch you, catch the desperation, the need, and he slows down, honing in on your clit, lapping in steady circles, fingers pumping deeply.

Your toes curl, tears come to your eyes and your bottom lip quivers. You nod at him. He's found it. Exactly what you need, the exact spot. He's relentless now, his tongue moving over, and over, and over as his eyes lock with yours.

"Ohhhnnnnng."

"That's it," you feel him mumble into your clit. "Good girl."

And you're cascading over the edge, into a pit of white heat, different but similar to the one in his eyes when you first saw him today. You shudder and jerk, his tongue flicking over your sensitive bud drawing wave after wave out of you as your pussy spasms around his fingers, gripping them tight and tethering you down as you writhe.

You twitch with oversensitivity and Joel finally stops, tongue leaving your clit, lips pressing firmly to your mound instead as he breathes you in. Your body heaves and you sink further into the couch, stomach muscles finally letting you unfurl from where you'd chased your orgasm so desperately.

"Fuck," he groans so close you can feel his lips move on your skin. All you can do is nod weakly in response. "You okay?" You nod again, not trusting your voice and still not entirely sure you're conscious.

His thick fingers pull from you, leaving you empty, and his hands gently guide your legs down to rest on the couch. Blood is still pounding through your ears, but you hear and feel it... the air that Joel's fingers had pumped into you chooses that moment to escape in one humiliating gust.

Your face drops with embarrassment, and you hear Joel laugh from between your legs.

"Sign of a job done good," he laughs, kissing down onto your pussy, tongue gently swiping along your sensitive clit again. You try to wiggle away, letting out another rumble, fucking fuck, and immediately still as Joel laughs more.

"You done?" he says into your cunt, spreading you slightly to look at your spent hole then to you. "I think she's good." He kisses your clit once more and sits back, stretching his back out on the sofa with his arms behind his head.

You both sit there in silence, recovering your breath and coming back down to earth. Your knees knock together as your legs relax. You close your eyes, breathing deeply, and let the chill of the room cool your sweaty body and the heat of embarrassment from your cheeks.

Much sooner than you'd like, you feel Joel start to move.

"I ain't mad at you, y'know," he says softly as he tucks his cock back into his pants. "Was never mad at you. Just mad."

You knew that already, but hearing him say it still made you feel better. It made you feel like you'd done the right thing, that you hadn't pulled him into something he didn't want. You were justified, you were right. He wanted, needed, to use you as much as you needed to be used.

"You should get goin'," he moves to stand as he speaks, walking away from the couch and from you.

"But -"

He shuts you up with a single look. You sit up wordlessly, casting your eyes down. He was right - what exactly would you even be staying for, really, other than because some part of you wanted to.

You dress in silence, panties still around your knees pulled up, clothes thrown on haphazardly, pills stuffed into an empty pocket. Joel doesn't watch this time, instead he rifles through the box left by Tess. You never see into it, but you watch his profile shift and change as he reacts to what she left for him.

You move closer to the table, making way to leave his apartment without another word, when he's closing the box and speaking.

"I've had a vasectomy," he says pointing to your now covered crotch. "So, y'know... should be fine."

"Oh." You hadn't even thought about it. You didn't even care. "You... you could've done that in my mouth too. I wouldn't have minded."

"Your mouth was occupied," he smirks with a shrug. "Besides, if I wanted to, I would've."

He gestures for you to leave, so you do, Joel following you to the door as you go. You open it yourself, just as Tess had, and walk out. You don't have time to finish saying thank you before the door is shut behind you, leaving you alone in the corridor yet again. You make your way home in silence.

You dream that night of soft lips on your cheek, softer hands roaming your body. The softness morphs and distorts, growing larger and more ragged. Rough hands drag along you, and the scruff of a beard scratches your face as a kiss too delicate to be real comes impossibly close to your mouth.

You wake in a sweat, heat pulsing through your veins and your cunt throbbing between your legs.

You'd come in your sleep to nothing but desperate thoughts of a kiss you'd never had.

next part

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sulieykte · 1 year

Text

𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ✧˚ · . 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊𝒊

‣ Pairing: Adult!Neteyam (20) x Fem!Omatikaya Reader (19) ‣ Warnings: smut, p in v , slight dom!neteyam, choking, hair pulling ‣ Word Count: 2.5k ‣ A/N: Okay bbs we made it! There was a little while there that I didn't think we were going to make it, but here we are. I had a bit of a tough time with this one, it's been so long since I've written smut and the first time I've written in second person. So please forgive me if this is absolutely shocking but I committed and here we are. There's a good chance there will be a few errors in this because I couldn't bring myself to keep re-reading, so I'll eventually come back to this and edit where needed. As always, I hope you enjoy and thank you for the love shown to this series! English is in bold italics all other dialogue is in Na'vi. ‣ Na'vi word bank: syulang - flower, tìyawn - love, utumauti - banana fruit

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The metallic taste of your own blood fills your mouth as you bite down just a little too hard on your bottom lip. Spider had only been gone for ten minutes, the last words to break the silence being his promise to return with help as soon as possible. You were an hour out from High Camp and at a sprint, you’d say that Spider could manage that in half that time.

You’d moved away from the newly formed rock wall, finding yourself a spot stood against one of the nature made walls where you could keep an eye on your companion. He hadn’t even spared you a glance thus far. As soon as Spider had made his exit, he’d laid back with his arms rested under his head and closed his eyes, far too relaxed in your opinion for the situation you had found yourselves in. Even if Spider got help within the hour, you didn’t know how long it would take for a team to dig you out of this mess.

“Can you stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” You sigh, meeting his eyes as he sat up to look at you.

“Like I’m a Palulukan… Like you’re waiting for me to attack you.” He twists his left forearm into view to show you the crescent scar, dark purple tainting blue, still raised from where your teeth had sunk into it. “If anyone should be worried, it’s me. You barely have a mark on you.”

That was true. His fingerprints were still visible on your wrist but faded to a point where you could not see them unless you knew they were present, but you did know. You had analysed the discolouration each morning and told yourself that once it disappeared, you would get over the feeling that constricted your chest every time you looked at Neteyam. You would not be afraid of him anymore.

“How did you know about Ralu?” The question had been playing at your tongue since you realised you were in this for the long haul. The foul words he had said repeating over in your head as you prayed for Spider’s swift return.

“Did I not tell you?” He raises a brow at you, provoking a glare as you pressed on, determined to get the truth from him.

“I don’t believe you. You must have been spying, he would not say those things.” Ralu had been sweet and gentle, nothing like the formidable warrior you knew him as on the battlefield. He had treated you with respect and promised to court you properly once the Sky People were defeated. “He is not like you.”

“Not like me?” A triumphant grin settles on his lips. “At least I have the decency not to brag about my conquests before I have even washed their scent off of me.”

You shake your head, less in denial of the truth that was clear by the look of satisfaction on Neteyam’s face and more at yourself for being such a fool. It was enough to be used for simple pleasure with false promises of a future that would never come, but for Neteyam to be audience to your humiliation, it was too much. It was much easier to let your mortification slip into anger.

“You know what, Ma ‘Teyam.” His smirk disappeared, a similar one finding itself on your face. “Prince of the Omatikaya. Son of Toruk Makto. Future Olo’eyktan…” You punctuated each of his superlatives with a step towards him. “Maybe you need to sit and think about how much action you’d be getting if you weren’t riding your father’s coat tails.”

The shortened distance between you means it only takes him two strides to reach you once he has risen to his feet, his hand capturing your throat and pushes you back into the cave wall. His hold isn’t yet restrictive to your breathing, but your hands shoot to wrap around his wrist in case that changes. It’s a futile attempt to feel as though you have any control over the situation, laughable even to you that you think you could stop him if he wanted to choke the life out of you.

You try to steady your breathing, amber eyes meeting in a competition to see whose gaze would falter first. That was something you couldn’t let him have, you could not let him know that you were afraid. Afraid that he would crush your windpipe on a whim, or that your legs would finally fail at their one job at any moment.

Neteyam moves closer, until you’re chest to chest and you can feel his heart beating against your own, almost as fast if not a pace slower. His nose was practically touching your own as he spoke, his hand squeezing lightly at the sides of your throat. “You really do need to learn to shut up.”

“I’m starting to think that you like touching me.”

His pupils are blown so wide you can barely see a hint of gold, his heavy breath searing as it brushes against your lips. You’re waiting for him to say something, to lose his temper further and squeeze the breath out of you. But he doesn’t.

His lips crash against yours with a force that knocks your head backwards into the cave wall, the blow to your head only partially contributing to the disorientation that follows. Neteyam was kissing you. His hand flexed around your neck as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip before forcing entry into your mouth. You struggled for a breath as his tongue swiped against yours, the taste of utumauti overwhelming you as you moved your tongue in response. A lapse in judgement.

When your vision starts to blur, you pull at his wrist in a silent call for mercy. His hold on your throat loosens and he pulls back from his assault on your mouth, allowing you to gasp for a breath. You look up to meet his eyes, a frown forming as a question of why gets lost before it reaches your lips.

There’s not an inch of space between your bodies now as he has you sandwiched between the wall and himself. You can feel his hardened length through his loincloth pressed against your stomach and suddenly the why of it all doesn’t matter, not with the heat that is pooling in between your legs, and when he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“You look good with my hand around your throat.”

He captures your gasp with his mouth, giving no room for you to talk back. For once, he has you how he likes you. Quiet and submitting to his will.

The hand that isn’t already wrapped around you wanders lower, pushing aside your feathered covering to grasp at your breast, giving your nipple a sharp pinch and swallowing the moan it elicits with a smile against your lips. He’s winning this and he knows it.

With one last squeeze at your throat, his hand travels down your body, palm flat to feel as much of you as he can. His mouth moves to your jaw, pressing light kisses that send what feels like all of the blood in your body rushing to your ears as his hand reaches its destination. He pushes past the waistband of your loincloth, fingers slipping in between your folds, his breath shaking against your neck as he lets out a laugh at how wet you already are.

“Shut up.” You almost push him away. Almost. The embarrassment is dizzying, and you can’t comprehend your body's reaction to the hands that have you in their grasp. A hand that had only caused you pain sending jolts of pleasure through your core as he collects your slick, his fingers beginning their slow ministrations against your clit in the same instant his mouth latches onto the crook of your neck. The sensation sets you alight. “Don’t you dare leave a mark.”

Your threat only seems to urge him on, lips suctioning harder onto your skin as the pace of his fingers increases. It’d be easy for you to get out of your head, to submit to the sensations. But you knew there would be consequences to this outside of this cave, when reality hit, and explanations would be demanded for any marks left on your skin.

The smart choice would be to push him away, deny yourself the pleasure he was giving you. It would probably be your only choice if you could focus on anything other than Neteyam’s fingers that were circling your aching bud. Intelligence was overrated.

You pushed against his chest, his lips detaching from your neck as you pushed his body away from you. His mouth opens, but you don’t let him speak because you’re sure it will break your resolve. “I think it’s your turn to shut up.” His mouth closes, brows furrowed in confusion until you bring yourself to your knees, pulling him down with you. Now he understands.

As soon as he’s sat on the ground, you climb on top of him. His hands moving to your hips as you straddle him. Both of your arousal is evident through your loincloths as you slide along his length, finding a position that provides just enough friction as you roll your hips against his.

His head falls back, chest rumbling with a growl that sends a shiver down your spine. “Neteyam.” You don’t need to finish your thought as he seems to be one step ahead of you, reaching down to untie your dampened loincloth before untying his own.

You lifted your hips to allow him to discard the obstructing fabric and your moans synchronised as you lowered yourself back down and wasted no time in gliding yourself along his length, coating him with your slick. When his tip catches your clit your hips falter in their movement, but he catches you, strong hands guiding you to continue your gyrations until you’re both glowing with sweat and you’re finding it difficult to catch your breath.

“Y/N?”

For the first time since you allowed yourself to give in to his touch, you meet his eyes. His questioning eyes. And you know what he wants. You want it too.

With a nod, you lift your hips, and he aligns himself with your entrance. The slide is easy as you sink down slowly, but the stretch has you grasping at his shoulders, his fingers bruising at your waist. When you look down, you’ve only taken half of him, but you’re not a quitter. Slamming your hips down you don’t miss how Neteyam’s mouth drops open, his breath stuttering. It might just be the best thing you’ve ever seen.

He recovered quickly, grabbing your ass and pushing you forward to grind on his cock. You bite back a moan, head falling forward to settle on his shoulder as he rolls his hips up to meet your movements.

“If I knew this is all it would take to shut you up, I’d have done this a long time ago.”

You're still on top of him, lifting your head to see his shit-eating grin and you knew you had to wipe it off his face. Lifting yourself until only his tip is inside of you, you slam back down. Hard. You continue the rough pace, finding delight in the way Neteyam’s face scrunches and the power you have over him.

“Good to know even this can’t shut you up... Do you want me to bite you again?” His breath hitches and you feel him twitch inside of you. “Oh Eywa, you do, don’t you?” He doesn’t respond, eyes squeezed shut as you continue to ride him hard through your ribbing. “Is that what this was all about ‘Teyam, did it turn you on when I-“He cuts you off with a hand around your throat, his eyes open now, boring into yours.

Your stomach flips when he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Maybe if you hadn’t run, you would have found out syulang.”

You would need several hours to unpack that, but you only had a second before he’s lifting you off of his length and flipping you around. You manage to catch yourself with your hands just in time before he angles your hips and buries himself inside you.

His pace is unrelenting. His grunts and your cries echoing against the cave walls. The new angle allows him to reach new depths, his cock bruising your cervix as he pounds into you. Sweaty palms struggle to keep their hold on the ground, and you slip forward, a hand tangling in your hair and a sharp tug upwards protecting you from worse injury as Neteyam pulls you back against his chest, hand sliding from your hair to wrap around your throat.

“I’m going to ruin you tìyawn.” Neteyam growls in your ear, his spare hand reaching down to circle your clit furiously. You clench around him, the sensations all too much as he slams into your sweet spot.

“’Teyam, I’m gonna-“

“Do it.” He commands, squeezing the sides of your throat and that’s all it takes to push you over the edge, his hips stuttering as your walls convulse around his cock. He tries to maintain his pace, letting you ride out your orgasm. A choked sob is stifled by the grip he has on your throat that only loosens once your head drops forward, panting as you try to suck in the oxygen you had been deprived of.

His frantic pace continues as he ruts into you, chasing his own release that’s nearly in reach until a voice breaks through the quiet previously filled by only his breathy moaning and your soft whimpers.

“Neteyam!” The mighty warrior stills inside of you as he hears his father’s voice through the rock blockade. His hold releases on you and you fall forward, cheeks heating as the reality sets in. Neteyam is still rock hard inside of you and you thank Eywa for the pile of rocks between you and your saviours.

“D-Dad?” Neteyam stutters, breathing still unsteady from the climax that had been seconds from his grasp.

“You kids okay in there?” You snort, accidentally clenching around Neteyam who buckles over, hand wrapping around your stomach with a hiss. Yeah, you were okay.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Y/N? You good.” You open your mouth to respond when Neteyam reaches down, pinching your sensitive clit.

“Mhmm.” You whine. “I’m okay sir.”

“Good, we’re going to get you out as fast as we can. Just hold tight in there.” You can’t help but laugh at that and you feel Neteyam’s chest rumble with a chuckle against your back. If only he knew.

“Thanks sir.”

Neteyam nips at your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. “We’ll finish this later.” And before you can question him about what he means by that, he’s pulling out of you, sufficiently distracting you as you hiss at the feeling of emptiness.

When you turn to look at him, he’s already got his back to you having collected his loincloth and moved towards the spring to wash away the evidence of your transgressions. The sound of metal on stone echoes through the cave as Jake and his team begin their rescue and you decide to leave it at that and follow suit.

taglist: @innercreationflower,@lili-of-the-dream,@arminsgfloll,@strawberryclouds22,@aliceantalus,@afro-hispwriter,@mandaaaaaaaaaaa,@nxptury,@amortencjja,@l3laze,@strongestangel,@inluvwithneteyam,@tsuteysyawntu,@whyyouhatemeeetmblr,@jdbxws,@yumimak,@weirdpersonhelp,@kaylaperiodqueenslay,@julesandro,@neyetams,@jjkclub,@grxcisxhy-wp,@vampire_majesty,@dani-d0rk,@ashleexisxcool,@syulangg,@moony-artemis,@deadgirl02,@cl0esblogg,@thehalalboy,@cxlynv,@melllinaa

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reidsdaisies · 8 months

Note

hey bb can i req a cute first date with spencer at a coffee shop or bakery or whatever but he’s jus super fucking nervous and shows up 30 mins early and bouncing his leg and stutter and almost piss himself (not really but you get the gist)

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭𝐬

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; nervous!spencer x kind of sunshine fem!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ warnings; first date jitters, mentions of food, i think that’s it.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.7k

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; congrats on being my first req! (as if i didn’t quite literally beg u) i wrote this and then realized you probably meant you wanted to see him actually be nervous during the date but i worked too hard to let this go to waste. hope u can forgive me for that bae 😥

cm masterlist ; main masterlist ; request guidelines ; inbox

If you were to ask Spencer Reid to provide you with a detailed summarization of the whole Star Trek series, his eyes would light up and he’d get lost in his long rambles about scientific fact this and scientific fact that.

But if you were to ask him proper first date etiquette, he'd freeze up and look around awkwardly for a way to escape the conversation.

Or, in short, he knows nothing about first dates. He’s never been on a date. With anyone. Ever.

That's why he's currently pacing down a short length of the sidewalk, hands stuffed in his pockets as he waits for the sign giving him the go ahead to cross the street.

He would never be in this predicament if you, the peppy girl with a permanent smile seemingly plastered to her face, hadn't been bold enough to strike up a random conversation and ask his awkward, nerdy self out on a date to a new bakery that you informed him just opened up.

"If you're free Sunday, I'd love for you to come try their beignets with me! I've heard they're to die for."

The way you had initially proposed the offer made it seem so casual, until once he agreed, you followed it up with another, more clearly labeled exclamation.

“Sounds like we’ve got a date!"

Truth be told, he’d never particularly liked beignets all that much, but when the offer was served to him so graciously, he couldn't deny. No one can blame him. Who would have denied that beautiful, bright, contagious smile? Definitely not Spencer.

Once his hand is pulling open the bakery's door, he knows there's no going back. Not that he's a quitter, but he is unbelievably—or maybe pretty believably, we are still talking about Spencer here—nervous.

With a quick glance at his watch, he realizes just how much he overestimated the amount of time it'd take him to walk here. He's not just on time, he's a whole 26 minutes early.

Not near early enough to beat his record, but still very early compared to the advice Garcia had given him about showing up “fashionably late”, as she put it.

This only adds to his stress. Being alone, in a part of the city he's never been before, waiting for a girl who might not even be on her way yet. Yeah, he's cracking.

Spencer’s fingers tighten around the bouquet in his hands, flowers all picked out for the same reason—they reminded him exactly of the perfume you had on during your first meeting.

In attempt to calm himself down and get some fresh air, he slowly backs out of the bakery, the bell chiming, gaining a confused look from one of the workers.

Before he even has a sliver of a second to be embarrassed, his phone buzzes, a text asking if he’s on his way yet appearing on screen.

Taking a quick look around, his eyes landing on you standing in front of the bakery with your back to the window, dressed in a casual floral dress with a long coat over top, your hair blowing around you in the breeze as you look down at your phone.

He’d never thought he’d be so grateful for another person being just as overly punctual as him, you saving him from a half hour of sitting alone in silence.

“I-,” Spencer clears his throat. “I’m here!” He walks over to you hesitantly.

The first thing you notice when you look up from your phone is his fists clenched right around the base of a colorful bouquet, stems crushed from his deadly grip.

“Hey, Spencer!” You greet the man, wrapping him up in a tight hug. When you pull away, he’s looking down at you, eyes sparkling but jaw still slightly trembling.

“These flowers, they’re for you.” His voice is slightly timid, his eyes set on the pavement as he holds the bouquet out expectantly.

Your expression softens when he struggles to get his words out, but you treat him no different, accepting the flowers gratefully.

“A whole bouquet? You’re the sweetest, Spence!” Another bright smile takes over your face, throwing your arms over his shoulders, bringing him in for yet another hug.

He’s stiff for a moment before he realizes you’re not going anywhere, and you’re giving no clear signs as to you not wanting him there, so with a slight confidence boost, he lets his arm slowly slither down to your waist, holding you flush against him.

“Let’s uhm, let’s get those beignets.”

This time when you pull away, instead of letting the anxiety get to him, he’s smiling along with you, ready to follow your lead into the bakery.

#reidsdaisies #reidsdaisies spencer <3 #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff

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dollfacefantasy · 20 days

Note

Would you ever write a prequel to Sharing is Caring? Like when Leon says to Chris, “Trust me, she’ll be into it. I can’t even tell you how wet she gets just from talking about shit like this,” or when he’s just talking to reader about how wet she gets when thinking about someone else watching her with Leon, would you ever write a small drabble or something based on that scenario that obviously took place before the threesome with Chris? I hope you understand what I mean! 😭

yeah bb i got you <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader

prequel to this fic

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, guided masturbation, daddy kink, mentions of spanking, exhibitionism, threesome w/ chris, p in v, blowjobs, and cum

so when i wrote that part, i was thinking it happened on multiple occasions between reader and leon. this is how i believe one of those times would go *dream harp music and dissolve transition*

Today had been a lazy day for you and Leon since the two of you woke up that morning. The bedroom was dim from the overcast sky outside, and music played softly in the background as you and your boyfriend cuddled in bed and talked about nothing. It was your personal heaven on earth. The prettiest slice of paradise you could imagine.

You laughed at his corny jokes while he entertained random questions you’d asked him. Eventually the conversation reached a lull, and in the brief pause, you remembered something you’d been meaning to ask him.

“We’re still going to that work dinner for you on Friday, right?” you ask, glancing over at him.

“Mhm,” he responds, “Why?”

“Gotta get my nails done,” you answer.

He can’t help smiling at that. The effort you put in for him was adorable.

“Yeah? What color you gonna do this time?” he asks.

“Red.”

“Why red?” he says, reaching over to stroke your cheek.

“Cause aren’t guys supposed to like red the most?” you say as if it’s the most obvious fact in the world.

“You know I like what you like, baby,” he chuckles and leans in to kiss your neck.

“Yeah, but it’s a dinner full of guys. I gotta impress them for you. Can’t have your work people thinking your girlfriend is less than the best,” you say.

He exhales sharply at your attitude, finding it funny.

“So you’re painting your nails for other men?” he teases, “Be careful or I might get jealous.”

A smile rises to your lips, and you squirm a little from the way he’s kissing your neck. In truth, Leon loved showing you off. It drove him up the wall when guys’ stares would linger on your cleavage or cast down to your backside. They could look all they wanted, but you were all his. And you knew he felt that way, which is why it drove you a special type of crazy when he’d play with you like this.

“No, I'm painting them for you. So your work guys will be impressed and jealous of you,” you say.

“Ahh, I see,” he says, feigning realization, “You want them all to see that you’re such a good girl, right?”

His voice drops and it hits you straight between your legs. You fidget a little, masking your desire with a laugh. Nodding playfully, you act as if it’s a joke rather than your honest motivation.

“That’s why I gotta wear a pretty dress too,” you tease back.

“I see. It better not show off too much though, else I might have to take you over my knee right then and there. They rent out a private dining room, y’know. I could do it. Show them all how I keep my good girl in line,” he whispers.

He nips at your throat, and now you’re officially turned on. The heat in your cheeks and neck migrate south to fester between your hips. Your thighs rub against one another in a pathetic attempt to sate yourself for the time being. He notices of course, and that only means he’s not stopping any time soon.

“Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he breathes, “You’d like getting to whine and pout while everyone watches you get put in your place, hm?”

Tingles spread throughout your chest through your tummy. His hand slips beneath your shirt and rubs up and down your side. The painfully slow pace of his palm brings chills over you.

“Answer me,” he whispers.

“Yeah, I’d like it,” you say. Your voice was short and quiet as it often was in moments like these.

He chuckles and moves his hand up to your breast. Your nipples had stiffened into little peaks against the cloth of your top. He pinches one as he licks a stripe up your neck.

Shuddering, you whine for him, “Leon.”

“If you said that in front of them, that’d earn you a couple more smacks. What are you supposed to call me?” he prompts.

“Daddy…” you correct yourself with a whimper.

“That’s my girl,” he croons.

His hand continues to fondle your breast for a few moments more before his hand leaves your chest and grabs your jaw. He tilts your head in his direction, so you have to look in his eyes.

“That’s what you’d cry out in front of all of daddy’s friends. That’d really show ‘em you’re a good girl. It’d show ‘em more than any dress or color on your nails,” he says before connecting his lips with yours.

He kisses you deeply, slipping some tongue into your mouth and holding the back of your head to keep you close. His movements lead yours, luring you further into the lustful exchange with him. When he pulls back, you’re breathless with puffy, wet lips. His eyes have clouded with the desire to toy with you.

Now his hand slides down to your panties. The pretty garment had already started to dampen and cling to your cunt. He pets you over the barrier, teasing you with the anticipation of what’s to come.

“You’d be perfect, spread across my lap, ass out in these cute little things. Which pair would you wear?” he teases, nuzzling you as his fingers start to increase the pressure.

“The ones you bought me for my birthday,” you answer.

“Good choice,” he grins, “You’d look so precious in those, even more with your skirt bunched up over the top of them.”

You squirm a bit, wanting more from him, but he keeps up the same light caresses to your center.

“I know you’d love it, babydoll. I can just see it,” he whispers, “You’d love being the center of attention, having all those eyes on you. You know they’d all talk about you too. They’d talk like you weren’t even there. They’d talk about how pretty and cute you are, how sweet you look while taking your spanking, how much they want a girl like you all to themselves.”

All you can respond with is a soft whine. Your heels slide against the mattress as you fight to maintain some sliver of composure. And he continues running his mouth.

“They’d all get so hard for you, princess. Especially Chris. He’s gonna be there on Friday. He’s got a little crush on you,” he teases.

That snaps you out of your lustful daze. You’d met Chris a few times before this. He was nice enough. The two of you didn’t really have anything in common except Leon.

“He does not,” you say softly, rolling your eyes.

His eyebrows raise with amusement. “Does too,” he insists.

“He does not. You just want someone to tease me with,” you say before his mouth is back on yours, silencing your words with a kiss.

“Trust me, baby. He does. Bet he strokes it to you every night,” he murmurs against your lips.

You don’t want to admit the spark of heat that strikes in your belly at the thought of that. You’d be lying if you told Leon you didn’t find Chris attractive. He fits right in with your type. He was older, big and muscular, and condescendingly affectionate. All you can muster in response is a muffled “no he doesn’t.”

“Mhm, I can tell by the way he looks about you. And he’s always asking about you too. He’s got a thing for you, sweetheart. Wishes he could be your daddy instead of me,” he says. His voice comes out husky from the close proximity to you.

A little moan slips from your lips just as his hand slides into your panties to play with your clit. The pad of his middle finger finds it with ease. With the amount of times he’s made you cum, he’s sure he could find it while he’s sleeping. He presses down on the swollen bud and swirls his digit lightly.

“I know he’d love to see you get spanked like a little brat. But his favorite part would be the ending. The part where all those smacks have knocked some sense into you and you’re back to being a good girl. I think he’d jizz his pants if he saw your puppy eyes while you begged me to stop,” he whispers.

More arousal drips from you as you picture the scene your boyfriend is setting. You still weren’t fully convinced Chris was into you, but fuck, it was hot to imagine he was. Your mind conjures visions of his eyes locked on you. In your fantasy, he’s flushed, lip between his teeth as he wishes he could have a turn. He palms himself over his pants lazily, not putting in enough effort to distract him from the sight before his eyes. Your voice would be begging for Leon to stop, but your eyes would be begging for him.

Leon can see how into the idea you are so he continues. Simultaneously, his finger down below increases its pace on your bundle of nerves.

“You like thinking about that?” he coos mockingly, “But that’d be kind of cruel, wouldn’t it? Dangling you in front of him like that. Maybe I’d have to give the poor guy a break, let Chris come along with us after all the others had gone their own way. Let him see just how good you are for your daddy in private.”

Your eyes are starting to gloss with desire as he draws you further into this dream.

“Would you like that, honey? Letting Chris see this beautiful body, letting him see how well you can behave when you want to. If you were really really good, maybe I’d even let him play with you too,” he purrs.

Internally, your heart jolts. You had never brought up your interest in threesomes to Leon. He knew you had a bit of an affinity for being watched, but the potential conversation about being shared scared you. It was something that turned you on like damn near nothing else, but in reality, you weren’t certain of it. Plus, if he wasn’t into it, it’d be something you could never come back from.

The relief you felt from him bringing it up on his own was immeasurable.

You nod to answer his question.

“Use your words, babydoll,” he says.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he praises.

His hand slides down to cup your pussy before he pushes two fingers into your cunt. You whine at the intrusion, but your hole was used to the sensation. He had your breath hitching and your eyes fluttering within a couple of pumps.

“You could sit in my lap while he fucked you. I’d hold you the whole time like the sweet thing you are while he stretched you out,” he says, “Or we could take turns with you, one after the other, fucking you till you were seeing stars.”

You nod again and arch your back slightly. “Please daddy. Want that,” you whimper.

“I know you do, sweet girl. I wouldn’t want you getting overwhelmed though. Your mind has less stamina than that pretty pussy does,” he teases.

Your lip juts out into a pout at his taunt, but it’s quickly wiped away by a mewl that erupts from you when he curls his fingers inside you.

“I think it might be better to let Chris fuck you and get you all warmed up for me. Then I could take over, and you could suck him off. I’d make that cute cunt cry on my cock for a while, and you could get a taste of him. I know you love having something in your mouth.”

“Yeah daddy,” you whine.

He rubs his palm against your clit as his fingers fly back and forth, working you closer towards the edge. In the same rhythm he was grinding his bulge on your hip. He was rock hard beneath his boxers. The hypothetical situation was clearly getting to him just as much as it was getting to you.

“I’d be the one fucking your pussy full of cum just like you needed. And if you’d shown Chris what a perfect angel you are, I’d let you choose if he came in your mouth or all over your gorgeous face,” he says.

His eyes close as he rolls his hips with a little more force. He throbs in his boxers. Your head tilts back, allowing him to kiss your neck a few times before speaking again.

“I know you’d probably pick swallow, but I think all of us would love to see your face painted with his cum. Maybe let him pretend for a second that you belong to him,” he grunts.

“I’d pick on my face cause I know you’d wanna see it,” you whimper. And it was true. The most pleasurable thing in the world was Leon’s approval. It brought you more satisfaction than any orgasm or cum shot ever could.

“Such a good girl,” he moans, “That’s my baby. Another guy’s cum on your face, but all you can think to do is please your daddy.”

Both of you hit your highs almost in time with each other. You’re a little quicker than Leon which is fortunate since he loses precision when he cums. You feel like you burn into a blaze of euphoria when it hits, your body rapidly heating up. It’s like you’re light as a feather and floating through a blissful abyss of comfort. He cums in a more intense burst. His hips buck against the plush flesh of your hip. He locks his free hand on you to keep you close so he can thrust against your warmth till he’s empty.

The two of you lay there for a few moments after, taking a second to calm down. You feel like you could fall asleep at any second. You barely register Leon stumbling out of bed to clean himself up and change. He hits the fan on the way back to bed,which you’re grateful for.

As soon as he’s back in bed, you roll over and drape your limbs across him. He nuzzles the side of your head with a few kisses.

“You need a nap now, baby?” he asks softly.

“Mhm,” you mumble back.

“Close your eyes for me then, pretty girl. Get some rest,” he says before smirking and whispering in your ear, “Just promise me you’re not gonna dream about Chris now.”

You whine and lightly jab your knee against his ribs.

“Shut up, Leon.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield smut

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yeahxsurexokay13 · 2 months

Text

forget about us - mason mount

summary: yn and mason have been broken up for 5 months and both have apparently moved on from each other but then yn's unexpected new single happens

warnings: the song mentioned is 'forget about us' by perrie because i have been obsessed with it ever since it came out !!!! but for the sake of the smau i have decided to completely ignore the parts where she talks about not wanting to go back to where they were lol

y/n.y/l

Liked by taylorswift and 1.075.733 others

y/n.y/l well, here's the truth of it

view all 3.130 comments

fan1 spill the tea bestie we're all ears ☕☕☕👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼

fan2 we're getting nEW MUSIC EVERYBODY

jackgrealish Reckon this one will make the pre match playlist?

y/n.y/l we'll have to see if it passes the vibes check 🥸

fan6 so it's a break up song 🥲 confirmed.

fan3 are these lyrics? 👀

user1 looks like we're about to get the inside scoop on the breakup

fan4 don't bother zooming in on slide 3 it doesn't work

jobebellingham 👩🏽‍🍳

y/n.y/l 🤫

fan7 WHAT DOES HE KNOW

fan8 not jude's brother commenting.........

selenagomez Love seeing you in your element 🫶 liked by y/n.y/l

fan5 Here come the tissues 🤧🤧

y/n.y/l

Liked by perrieedwards and 1.790.201 others

y/n.y/l big thanks to @/edsheeran for helping me put my heart into words and to the amazing @/allieavital for directing this mv with such brilliance and kindness.

'forget about us' song and mv are yours at midnight!!! 🌃

view all 3.802 comments

fan1 aaAAAAAAAHHHHHHH ASFJK

niallhoran YES! Been hyped for this release. Let's goooo!

y/n.y/l thank you! this means so much coming from you!!! x

fan2 i've been trying to make out what the song might be about by this 5 second video and it's safe to say i have nothing

fan3 like wth is she supposed to be seeing on those tvs?

fan4 CAN MIDNIGHT HURRY UP PLZ AND THANK YOU

edsheeran It was an honour to work on this with you. Can't wait for everyone to hear it 🙌 liked by y/n.y/l

fan5 can't wait to watch and listen 💖

fan6 already preparing myself emotionally for this song bc if it's about Mason idk if i'll survive 😭😭😭

fan7 yn's music always hits differently when it's inspired by real life experiences 😮‍💨

y/n.y/l

Liked by masonmount and 1.507.893 others

y/n.y/l fuk sad feelings

tagged: madelyncline

view all 3.410 commets

fan1 a negroni… sbagliato… with prosecco in it

y/n.y/l oh stunning

fan2 MASON IS BACK IN THE LIKES EVERYBODY MOVE

fan4 what if he heard the song?

fan2 he DEFINITELY heard the song lol

madelyncline Did you know i am obsessed with you?

y/n.y/l giggling and kicking my feet i love u bb

fan3 I spy with my little eye... Mason in Y/n's likes 🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢

fan5 this has me imagining all sorts of scenarios please let this mean something

fan6 my babies @.y/n.y/l @/madelyncline 😍❤️

fan7 UR SO PRETTY WTH

y/n.y/l

📍 portsmouth

Liked by sophiaaemelia and 2.390.276 others

y/n.y/l writing about how much i want one direction to get back together next

view all 4.376 comments

fan1 AS SOON AS I SAW THE LOCATION I KNEW OMFG

fan2 my heart is so happy 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

user1 You and Mason are too cute! But seriously, we need that One Direction reunion song.

declanrice ❤️

fan6 "but when I hear your name, it's still so raw. do you ever feel the same way too?" looks like he did!!!

fan3 okay this wins for the most creative way of saying 'we're back together' lol so happy for you two 💕💕

user2 i'd stream that song on repeat until it happens

fan4 mum and dad arE BACK TOGETHER YAY

fan5 if your song works, I'll be forever indebted to you!!!

user3 been rooting for you two since day one!! so happy to see you back together 🥰

masonmount Your biggest fan forever ❤️

y/n.y/l my number 7 ♥️

#singer!reader #social media au #football smau #mason mount smau #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine

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taintedcigs · 7 months

Text

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER SIX: ALL TOMORROW'S PARTIES

← prev chapter // next chapter →

✦ summary: in which the truth about steve's party is revealed and eddie leaves reader another note (wc: 8.6k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, arguments, FIST FIGHT?!?, HUGE WARNING FOR BRUISES AND AN ABSIVE RELATIONSHIP!!!, mention of bruises, mention of shoving someone, BILLY IS ABSIVE, if this content makes you uncomfortable lmk so i can make a summary of it, or just skip the flash back (but its like half of the chapter>:() chrissy is horrible, BILLY is even more horrible, chrissy says some classist shit!!, eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — @andvys ily thank u for always being so helpful w everything i hope u like this chapter bb!! not proof-read srry ignore mistakes !! and as i said this is a heavy chapter so lmk if any of u need a summary on the flashback. and im so sorry for making chrissy such a villain i actually rlly love her characterr >:(

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series it literally is my baby!! pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

series masterlist | series playlist

FIVE YEARS AGO.STEVE’S PARTY.

Twenty minutes. You’ve been waiting in line for the bathroom at Steve’s stupid party for the last twenty minutes. Even plenty of people ahead of you had frustratedly groaned and left by now. But you weren’t going to give up that easy.

A muffled string of curses filtered through the door before she turned the lock. The door creaked open slightly, revealing a glimpse of Chrissy's face. She gave you a slight smile, and cluelessly, your face lit up. “Oh, thank god! Can you please let me in, I left my jacket in there.” You giggled, words tangled to each other as you made a clumsy attempt to slip past her, but she closed the door further.

With furrowed brows, you looked up at her. “Uh, I’m busy in here,” She giggled nervously, head tilting towards the side. “Oh,” You murmured.

“OH!” The realization was slow to hit you. She was with someone. You started grinning childishly. “Who’s the lucky guy?” You quipped your brows excitedly, causing Chrissy to stammer.

You tried to pry open the door, brows still wiggling but Chrissy didn’t let you, mumbling something about being embarrassed. “Oh, come on, Chrissy…” You murmured, still grappling with her to open the door.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about—” you began with a childlike giggle, attempting to open the door even wider.

Your giggles were quick to die down when the door fell open, no words dared to come out of your lips as you finally saw who Chrissy was with. Billy. Soberness overcame you just at the sight of Billy’s disheveled hair, and Chrissy’s swollen plump lips.

Your best friend and your boyfriend.

Your eyes blinked rapidly, desperately wishing it was all a hallucination. The reality of the situation was slow to hit you, your vision blurred uncontrollably, throat tightening, and causing you to feel stuck, almost paralyzed.

With a gulp, you were quick to take a step back, ignoring them calling your name as you turned back, forgetting all about the jacket you were supposed to get back when your legs felt so wobbly. You could hear the chatter outside the door get louder, everyone else taking a peak at what just happened. The whispers and gasps of everyone around you felt like mocking echoes.

You didn’t even know what to feel first. Anger? Jealousy? Sadness? Embarrassment?

It was a mix of all four and your chest hurts, tears welled up in your eyes, burning down your cheeks as your breaths came in shallow gasps, you couldn’t make any sense of it, and you couldn’t fucking understand it.

You felt it, felt betrayal like a physical sensation, like there was a void in your chest. And you could sense that Billy was running after you, trying to catch up to you, but you resisted the temptation to slow down, your anger acting as a protective shield.

“Baby, I swear nothing happened.” He exclaimed, desperation lacing his voice. Your eyes rolled instinctively, head tuning out the words that were too little, too late.

“Please, just listen to me she kissed me I didn’t! I tried to push her off—” You shouldn’t turn around, you definitely shouldn’t turn around and give him that satisfaction.

But you do.

“For twenty minutes?!? You tried to push her off for twenty fucking minutes?” You yell back bitterly.

“It isn’t what you think, please just let me explain!”

“Twenty fucking minutes, Billy!” You spat, pain quick to turn into anger. “Do you really think I’m that dumb?” Your fingers discarded your hair in anger, everything you knew to be true wasn’t anymore.

You knew what you had with Billy was fucked up, it wasn’t a normal nor a healthy relationship, but it was familiar and you were used to it, used to him. A relationship with this many ups and downs became your version of normalcy, even though it shouldn’t have.

No matter what happened, you thought he loved you, all those promises he whispered into your ear while you slept comfortably on his chest, all the times he murmured that he loved you, that he could never imagine being with anyone else, a whole fucking lie.

And it hurt.

Because you knew how hard it would be to walk away from this. You knew you couldn’t break away from him. You needed something to desperately pull you away. Show you that you deserved better than this.

No one would love you more than he did. He told you that a thousand times because it was true. He would do anything and everything for you. And you didn’t know why that enticed you, why being in such a fucked up situation hurt you in the best way possible, like an intoxicating yet destructive obsession.

And anyway, why would anyone even love you? You were a mess, a fuck up, nothing you did ever amounted to anything, and you knew that, you knew you were destined to be this way, to be with someone who constantly hurt you. Nothing you could do would be enough to get you out of the mess that was your mind.

“I would never do that to you, never.” His eyes were glossy, mirroring yours, you could tell when he lied to you, and this wasn’t one of those times. And you hated that your gaze softened with that because you wanted to believe him.

You knew he was flirty, you knew that the second you started dating Billy; from the countless times he flirted with the waitress when he took you to dinner, how he always got a little too close with the female lifeguards, how he charmed all the moms in Hawkins with a slight wink, it was a script you knew all too well. And you kept your mouth shut, tolerated it, only because he always brushed it off as nothing.

You didn’t mind it because he loved you, he told you he did, and you believed him. The countless arguments, the accidental bruises, name-callings, punches in the wall, you forgave it all. Because he loved you, he told you that love made him this way, it made him this insane and angry. And you let him make you believe that his erratic behavior was love, until today.

Because this was different, this was Chrissy. Your supposed best friend. Yes, Billy probably didn’t start making out with her, but he surely wasn’t eager to finish it either.

The betrayal cut deeper than any argument or bruise; it was a wound inflicted by the two people you believed loved you unconditionally.

You let out a sarcastic chuckle, arms crossing against your chest as you could feel your face burn up with anger, tears drying out. “You are something else,” you uttered, disappointment and resentment flavoring your words.

“I don’t want to ever see you again, Billy, and I fucking mean it.”

“Calm down,” he whispered, a feeble attempt to pacify you.

“No! I am not going to fucking ‘calm down’. You—you fucking cheated on me w-with Chrissy!” Your voice wavered, and you hated it, your anger wasn’t powerful enough to wash away the pain you felt, and tears were stinging your eyes again.

“Jesus how many times do I have to tell you she fucking kissed me! I-I didn’t fuckin’ cheat!” He defended but you shook your head. “And, anyway, didn’t you fucking kiss that freak?”

A lump formed in your throat, a bitter taste accompanying the memory. Yes, you did. But it was after one of your infamous breaks with Billy, the two of you were broken up. Eddie and you promised each other that it was nothing, that it would just complicate things between the two of you. And you knew, if Billy ever found out about it, he would not leave it alone, he wouldn’t let you hang out with him. He would mess with him till no end. And you didn’t want Eddie involved in it. Ever.

“I told you we didn’t!” You lied through your teeth, it didn’t matter now. What you did could never compare to what he fucking did. Ever. But you were starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, Chrissy spreading that rumor was not an accident, at all.

Anger simmered, building like a storm inside you. “Don’t try to shift the blame on me, you fucking kissed her!”

“I didn’t—”

“Did you not fucking kiss her back you asshole?” You interrupted, the surge of anger propelling you forward. Your hands found his shoulders, pushing him roughly. Billy stammered, opening his mouth to speak. “I-I only for like a minute, then I fuckin’ pulled away, I swear!” He defended himself, making you huff angrily.

“It’s over, Billy.” You muttered, gaze meeting his.

“I mean it.” You added, his sympathetic gaze was quick to turn cold, and it made you feel uneasy, how comfortable he was going from gentle to rough so quickly.

His lips twisted into a cynical skepticism, “for how long this time? Eight hours? Two fucking days? A week?” There was that lump in your throat again. Billy didn’t believe that you could leave him, and you felt that tight, unexplainable feeling sink into your chest, he thought you’d stay with him no matter what, like a fucking object that he could do whatever he wants to. It’s sickeningly insulting, your hand raises to slap him, but he’s faster.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” His harsh grip on your wrist hurts, but what hurts more is the fresh bruise he left on your forearm two days ago, another fight that got too grabby.

“L-let me go,” you embarrassingly begged, wincing at his relentless grip. Your face scrunched with pain, eyes squeezing shut. The tenderness of the bruise made the slightest touch unbearable.

His hand twisted your wrist further, harsh hold squeezing more tears out of you than you realized. “B-billy,” you begged, again. Only then, Billy noticed your discomfort, swallowing hard before reluctantly releasing your arm. An emptiness replaced his hold, and your vision blurred as you tried to reassure yourself, fingertips gently tracing the purplish bruise.

“D-does forever work?” It comes out as a whisper, words tangling to each other when you recollect yourself from him, still trying to find the broken pieces he scattered, leaving without another word.

And he didn’t bother to run after you, watching your figure leave while guilt set in, the sight of that purple blotch on your arm, how you flinched at any contact, the way you closed up during arguments, it was all because of him. All because he couldn’t fucking help himself; his anger or his need for control.

He doesn’t escape the cycle.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you walked away, tears streaming down your face. Your hands shook as you wiped them away, the weight of everything breaking free in a flood of sobs.

You immediately make your way to the drink stand, praying to whatever god there is that no one else can perceive you for the rest of the night so that you can drown in your sorrows and drink all of it away.

You barely registered Chrissy approaching you between sobs and the harsh scoop of the 'pure fire,' as Steve called it, into the red cup clutched in your fists. “Can I talk to you?” Her voice, when it finally reached your ears, felt mocking, and carried a giddy undertone that enraged you more and more.

“No,” you scoffed, refusing to entertain the idea, turning your attention back to the sorrowful task of filling your cup.

“Come on, take a chill pill,” she attempted to joke, her usual signature line falling flat. Your glare, sharp as the knives you felt in your back, met her with anger. She huffed a sigh of breath.

“Please I’m sorry, just let me talk—”

“What the fuck do you want to talk about, huh?” You set the cup down harshly, the impact of it had the drink sloshing all over the surface, “the fact that you tried to kiss my boyfriend?” you interrupted with a spiteful look.

Her wavering sympathy dissipated at your accusation, eyes turning cold as she furrowed her brows. “What?” she hissed. “Tried? Is that what he told you?” She scoffed.

Your face scrunched. “I wouldn’t put it past you.” You spat back, you didn’t care if your words hurt her in the slightest, your thoughts were purely consumed by her betrayal.

“Excuse me?” Chrissy’s eyes narrowed.

“Jesus, Pinky are you really that fucking gullible?” She asked tilting her head almost mockingly.

“Or do you really think that highly of yourself?” Your mouth struggled to open, heart dropped to your stomach when you realized she didn’t even care.

“We were in that bathroom for twenty minutes, use your imagination.” That goddamn smirk curved on her lips, and you knew you have never felt this amount of pain before, it was insulting, to ever think you called her your friend.

“Oh, you are such a fucking-” You could feel your blood boiling, almost ready to attack her, your drunken haze giving you enough courage.

But her annoying tone interrupted you, “Did you really think you were perfect? That you were enough for Billy?”

“What did you think? That he would want a fucking charity case like you?” The tears pooled your eyes again, but you weren’t going to let her see it, so you held them in, clenching your fists as your breath caught in your throat. All of her insults became a deafening background noise to your ears. “Newsflash, Pinky you have junkies for parents. You’re too messed up. Even for Billy.”

The heat rushed to your cheeks at the last insult, earning a visceral reaction because of how cruel she was. Disgust and anger overtook your senses quicker than you intended them to, you felt small, and so fucking stupid.

Regret gnawed at you – You should’ve never let her in. You should’ve never let her comfort you. You should’ve never told her anything. It was all your fucking fault. For trusting anyone that came in your way.

Just because you wanted to feel loved, just because you wanted to fill that void that your parents left. And it was so ironic, considering they couldn’t give two shits about you, yet your deepest wound would always be them.

“You’re so fucking pathetic, Chrissy.” You spat, masking all of your emotions. You had mastered it at this point. You didn’t care what she said about you, she could keep her mouth running, because she was dead to you. Maybe you could’ve forgiven her for the whole Billy thing because fuck him too, he was no saint, right?

But making fun of your parents was one line she couldn’t cross.

“You’re more fit for that trailer trash freak.” Scratch that. Making fun of Eddie was one line she couldn’t fucking cross. Eddie. She couldn’t breathe near him if she wanted to, she didn’t deserve it.

Your teeth grounded together, and fury fueled your rise to your feet. “Don’t ever call him that again.” The words slipped between gritted teeth, the realization of how close you had walked to her only dawned as you unintentionally cornered her.

She looked taken aback, brows pinched together. “What are you gonna do? Go all trailer trash on me too?” She chuckled, annoyingly loud.

You shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.

But she also shouldn’t have insulted Eddie.

You are ready to lunge at her, feet planted closer as your hands are formed as fists at your side, and just as you’re about to take another step, a harsh arm yanked you away. Seconds away from getting that satisfaction, and just like that, you’re ripped away from it.

“What the—” You turned swiftly to see the culprit, as you harshly shook off the hold on you, your bruises still hurt, causing loud whines to part from your lips. Steve. Chrissy was back in your face, mocking laughter dancing in her eyes. “God, you’re predictable.” The laughter stung, and the pressure of your anger almost built up in your jaw. “Fuck you, you stupid—” You try again. No luck. Of course, Steve, with an unyielding grip, dragged you away.

Chrissy walked past, reveling in the scorned look etched on your face. She paused, turning with a smirk. “Oh, and next time you get a ‘freak accident’, make sure you don’t forget your jacket.” She pointed toward the fresh bruise on your forearm, courtesy to Billy who grabbed you a little too hard during another heated argument. Then she threw the jacket right next to you, on the floor landing with a mocking thud as she left with an irritating cackle.

Impressively, Steve picked it up while maintaining his hold on you. “Let me go!” Your almost-scream echoed, his hands were unintentionally grazing the tender bruise, and it fucking hurt.

Only when he knew Chrissy was out of sight did he release his grip, and you shook him off with an exasperated huff. “What the fuck?!?” You questioned, gaze burning with fury. “Right back at you, what the fuck was that, Pinky?” He asked, tone more concerned than angry. “Nothing,” you muttered. It was such an obvious lie that Steve rolled his eyes. “That won’t work with me.”

In a defiant move, you grabbed the drink, aiming to drown the tension, but Steve intercepted, harshly putting it back down. A glare shot his way. “Will you leave me alone?” “No.” He protested with a pinch of his brows. “So, tell me.” “Steve,” you whined. You didn’t want to be interrogated by him, you knew he cared. But you just couldn’t handle it. “I’m serious, you do realize this is my house, right?” His tone carried a veiled threat and you rolled your eyes at him. “I could kick you out any time I wanted to.” Your gaze narrowed, disbelief etched across your face. "You wouldn’t do shit." With a raise of his brows, Steve swiftly picked you up, slinging you over his shoulders. It all happened so fast that you weren’t quick to start softly punching his back and screaming. God, he really was good at distracting you, so good that his little act almost coaxed a reluctant smile from your lips. “Put me down!” You yelled behind him, your fists landed on his back with a not-so-impactful force.

“Are you gonna tell me?” Steve asked, relishing the way you continued to thrash over his shoulder. Your face grew hotter every second, and with an annoyed huff, you finally nodded. “Yes, Jesus Christ!”

He gently lowered you to the ground, and a teasing glint danced in Steve's eyes as he quipped, "Atta girl." You responded with a scoff and a mock annoyed chuckle.

“So?” He questioned, arms crossing against his chest, his demeanor shifted, the playful atmosphere dissipating as his expression turned serious. “I caught Chrissy and Billy in the bathroom.” “What?” Genuine shock washed over Steve's features, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Yeah I—” “And she still had the nerve to say all those fucking things?” Embarrassment surged, fluttering your cheeks hot. “You, uh, you heard those?” Steve responded with a quick nod.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Pinky, not with me.” He reassured you, his hand finding a comforting place on your waist, “she's the one who should be fuckin’ embarrassed. Jesus.”

“Thought she was supposed to be your friend,” Steve said, his gaze softening with empathy.

“Me too.” A sad chuckle escaped your lips.

His gaze lingered on the gnarly bruises decorating your arm, a visible wince reflecting in his expression. "And what about those?" he gulped, concern etching lines on his face.

You were quick to dismiss it with a wave, too quickly that of fucking course Steve knew something was wrong, you didn’t even dare to look at the bruises, or him in the eyes.

“Bike accident,” you muttered, lying through your teeth.

"Since when do you have a bike?" Steve questioned and gauged your reaction, he knew you were lying, you were avoiding his gaze, and you looked visibly nervous, but he didn’t want to push this. It was too personal, and this wasn’t the place for it. So, he understood, of course, he did. He or Nancy should’ve been the one you confided in. But you didn’t want to burden them with your problems.

“If—” Steve took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “If you ever need to talk about anything—and I mean anything—you can always talk to me. Hell, us! You can always talk to us, you know that, right?” His hand was quick to caress your back, gently, letting you know that he would always be there.

You nodded, but you wanted this pity party to be over, you wanted—needed Eddie. Just one hug from him. And maybe a joint.

“I-I know, thank you.” You hesitantly replied, stumbling over your words.

“You need anything?” He asked sincerely.

You shook your head softly. “No… but have you seen Eddie?”

“He was selling to some idiots on the porch, might still be there.” He shrugged.

You were quick to nod, you had to leave, immediately. You didn’t want to worry Steve. “Thanks, Stevie, see you around?” You hummed, managing a smile that he mirrored.

And with that you were quick to grab your drink, downing it with a hiss before you almost ran to the porch, you didn’t want to see Billy or Chrissy again. You needed to find Eddie. And god, was it hot, you didn’t know if it was because of everything that transpired in the last twenty minutes, or it was because of the alcohol flowing in your system but you were burning up. And you didn’t want to wear your jacket. You should have.

A harsh breeze of air hit you once you finally stepped on the porch, fresh yet biting, serving as a slap of reality that had your eyes watering, you didn’t know why, you didn’t know how, but the tears came immediately. It was pathetic, really. You with the bruises, half-drunk, discovering your friend with your boyfriend, breaking up with your boyfriend, and then earning insults from the said friend who was hooking up with your boyfriend. A rollercoaster of a fucking night, but it was just getting started. Slouching on the porch stairs, your head hung low to your knees as you covered your face with shame, almost. Mind reeling in the worst way possible.

The insults stuck to it, Chrissy’s plump lips, Billy’s disheveled hair. His harsh grip on your arm. The way he mocked you. The insults Chrissy uttered. It was all a fucking mess. And you couldn’t handle any more of it.

All the emotions you pent up over the years wanted to flow through your eyes, ruining you, completely breaking you apart.

The red cup in your hand was crumpled roughly, each attempt to stifle your cries only intensified the shaking of the cup, spilling over to the stairs.

Where was he?

Where was Eddie?

Your mind was spinning and the only thing you could think of was him.

“Pinky?” The soft tone of his voice sliced through the tumult in your mind, and your head snapped up, eyes immediately watered at the sight.

There he stood, a boyish grin adorning his face, shaggy bangs falling over his amber eyes, a stupid leather jacket, and those stupid black jeans with chains attached to the hip. Him.

“Finally! Been lookin’ everywhere for you, sweetheart,” His voice wrapped around you like a reassuring embrace, but your foggy mind took a while for everything to register. When it did, you shot up, the world spinning dizzily, as you threw yourself into his arms. Sobs escaped freely, muffled against his jacket.

His voice immediately softened, gentle hands running through your hair as he cooed. “Hey.. hey… what happened?” His tone so sweetly sick that you couldn’t help but melt into him, letting his warmth take over.

Your breath caught up in your throat, and Eddie gently pulled away from the hug. Soft hands cupped your tear-streaked cheeks, grounding you with a simple touch. You gave into him, succumbing to his tenderness.

This was what you needed. And it was almost as clear as day. It should’ve always been him.

"I-I-" Your words stumbled over your sobs, the weight on your chest making it hard to breathe. Eddie's concerned eyes met yours, wiping away the tears on your cheek gently.

“Honey, hey, hey…” He caught your attention, his soothing voice breaking through the haze. His brows furrowed with worry, and you blinked open your eyes, focusing on him. "Breathe, can you do that for me, sweetheart?" Like a lifeline, his words pulled you back from the edge. Concern etched on his face, apparent from his brows creasing.

What the fuck happened? And who fucking did this to you?

Eddie had a good idea who did it: Billy. The very thought of that name sent a surge of anger through his veins. Hadn't this asshole put you through enough already? What could he have fucking done now?

You drew in a shuddering breath, and Eddie, recognizing your struggle, encouraged you while soothingly caressing your hair, calming you down further and further.

"Deep breaths, just like that. Breathe for me," he coaxed, and you obediently followed, shallow breaths gradually returning to normal as you focused on him.

His touch was gentle, hands still caressing your cheeks as he asked with genuine concern, "Are you doing okay now?" He asked, gaze mellow and lips overturned with worry

You nodded, but it wasn't convincing enough for him. As your hiccups persisted, you finally managed to articulate through the tears, "Chrissy."

Eddie's heart tightened, a quizzical look on his face. Chrissy? What did she have to do with this?

"Billy hooked up with Chrissy," you revealed, it was the most clear you had spoken to him and he still had a hard time understanding it.

His brows pinched together both in anger and confusion, his hold on you faltering once he registered your words.

So, Billy cheated on you?

Oh, now he was going to kill that bastard. Once he made sure you were okay, he was going to beat the shit out of him.

"What?" he exclaimed a little too loudly, his hold on you momentarily faltering in sheer shock.

"They—what?" he stammered.

"I caught them in the bathroom, Eddie, I—" Your tears blurred your vision again, and in frustration, you ran your hand through your hair.

That's when Eddie's eyes widened, and he pointed to something, asking, "What's that?"

You froze, desperately attempting to dismiss it, but Eddie wasn't having it. His hands gently flew to your forearm, and you flinched just in time, hastily trying to put on the jacket you should've already been wearing. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Now he was going to ask so many questions, and you knew he wouldn’t let go like Steve did, and he would know if you lied, in a heartbeat.

He huffed quickly, ignoring your protests as he softly held onto your arm, just around the bruise, being careful not to cause any more pain. Your lip trembled in the process. Shit, shit, shit.

“Pinky…” he murmured, worry creasing his brows at the royal purple mark.

If Eddie knew, there was no turning back, there was no way he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. A part of you was happy about it—maybe he could pull you away, maybe everything would be okay.

But the other part of you was terrified. Because you know he wouldn’t think of your bruises as nothing like you did and like Billy kept assuring you, he wouldn’t just let this go like you would. He would stand up for you, and while you were grateful, you were equally scared.

“N-nothing,” you muttered, avoiding his intense gaze.

“That’s not nothing,” his hand extended, slowly but surely making you reveal the full extent of the huge, gnarly bruise on your arm, with another one freshly forming from the hold Billy had on you earlier. Fuck.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, trying to avoid the genuine gasp waiting to escape his lips, “What happened?” His gaze found yours.

“Bike accident,” you lied through your teeth, a stupid fucking lie. He would never buy it.

“You don’t have a bike.” He heaved a sigh of breath, the thought of these bruises forming because of Billy didn’t even form his mind, sure he was awful and an asshole, but Eddie never thought he would be that awful.

“I used Mike’s.” Another lie.

“Did something bad happen?”

“No!”

“Pinky,” he said it so seriously that you felt bad. “Tell me, please.” His tone was awfully worrying.

How the fuck were you going to tell him?

“We were arguing—”

“What?” He quickly snapped back, not at you, but at what you were implying. He could almost feel the color draining from his cheeks. You surely didn’t mean…

“It-it was nothing!” You defended with a dismissive wave, but it didn’t stop his eyes widening. “We just- we were just arguing, and-and then he tried to hold me but i-it was just a little tight!”

“H-he did this to you?” Eddie’s jaw clenched in an instant, and he tried his best not to react, trying not to show you how he could feel his blood practically boiling, you’d been through enough, you didn’t need to deal with calming him down now, too.

“No, no, it was just a little accident. It doesn’t matter!”

“Yes, it fucking does!”

“No, it doesn’t!” Frustrated, you spat back, a bit of your pent-up anger lashing out at Eddie.

“I’m going to kill that asshole,” He scowled, rising to his feet, eyes spitting fire and you were quick to have a strong hold on his arm. “N-no! Please.” You whispered, the desperation in your voice slicing through the tension. Your touch brings him back to the present, reminding him that you matter more than his impulsive reactions.

Eddie stopped with a sigh of breath, gaze returning to you, and you nervously licked your lips fingers combing through your hair to gather your thoughts. “Look, Eddie, I-I just needed to see you, I just needed to feel normal for a moment, please, not now.” Your gaze was sympathetic, you looked so hurt that Eddie’s brows scrunched in pain.

He opened his mouth, about to speak, about to tell you that he could protect you, but your brows furrowed, and that teary-eyed look returned on your face. “Please,” Desperate, tugging on his arm, and he had no choice but to nod. He could deal with this later.

“O-okay,” he muttered, meekly, swallowing the lump in his throat. His stomach churned in pain and anger when he realized that bastard actually fucking hurt you. And you really thought it was all okay…

“What do you need, honey?” Sickeningly sweet tone was back again, and it warmed you up, removing the coldness that sat on your chest.

“A hug…” You muttered, “and maybe a joint.”

That brought an unintentional grin to both of your faces. “C’mere.” He whispered, arms quick to wrap around you, holding you close. The subtle sway of his body rocked you in the promise that you were not alone, his gaze filled with concern and you couldn’t help but melt into him when he pressed a kiss onto your hair.

Too engulfed, too distracted to realize someone almost sprinting toward the two of you. Before you could process the approaching figure, a voice cut through the air, sharp and accusatory. “You didn’t kiss him? Bullshit!”

Confusion etched across your face as Eddie's protective arms tightened around you. “What the hell are you—”

Billy, possibly fueled by alcohol, swaggered toward you both with an air of aggression. “Stay the fuck away from my girlfriend.”

The scent of alcohol wafted from Billy, and Eddie’s unbridled rage was now on the surface, he wore a scowl, eyes daggering through Billy. His hand protectively remained on your hips, gently pulling you aside. You tried to look at him, silently pleaded that you didn’t want this, that you didn’t need him to do this. But it was no fucking use.

“She’s not your fucking girlfriend, dipshit.”

“Stay the fuck out of this, freak.” He ignored Eddie, rage now full on display as he fully turned toward you.

“What, you gonna deny it, or no?” Caught in a crossfire, you felt a surge of panic, and just as you were about to speak, Eddie did it for you.

“No, she’s not gonna fuckin’ deny it.” Your eyes widened, blinking rapidly to process what Eddie just confessed to.

“Eddie—” You tried but again, no use, Eddie took a step closer to him.

“We did kiss.” A smirk played on his lips, he was doing it on purpose, he wanted to get Billy to punch him.

“I fucking kissed her, asshole.” Shit, you internally cursed at him.

The tension thickened, you could see it in the ticking jaw and bulging vein on Billy's neck. He moved forward, poised to strike at Eddie. “You have the nerve you fuckin’ freak!” He stepped forward, attempting to get at him.

You acted quick, acting as a shield to Eddie, you didn’t care, you couldn’t let him get hurt because of you. You couldn’t handle that.

“Billy, don’t!” Your desperate plea was drowned out by the pounding music and the escalating chaos. Despite your efforts, Billy's aggression only intensified. A forceful push sent you sprawling to the unforgiving ground. Tiny rocks bit into your palms, and your knees scraped against the abrasive cement.

The impact on the ground sent a shockwave of pain through your body, a groan escaping your lips at the pain. Your world spun harder, you didn’t even know what to focus on first; the throbbing bruise on your cheek, Billy's kiss with Chrissy, the haze of your drunkenness, or the startling fact that Billy had pushed you to the ground. All of it made you dizzy.

You could barely blink when Eddie knocked Billy out cold, with three well-aimed punches, lunging at him the moment he laid hands on you, your gaze narrowed to make sure you saw it correctly.

Eddie was fine. Eddie was okay.

“Sweetheart, oh my god.” Eddie's voice cut through the haze, his worried tone a soothing balm. With a gentle scoop, he lifted you to your feet.

You didn’t want to be there when Billy woke up, some drunk idiot could help him. Or Chrissy would, for all you cared. And as if Eddie understood you, he quickly helped you move away from the scene, guiding you towards the row of parked cars, away from everything.

Once you were at a safer distance, Eddie tried to hold you, face etched in concern, as he ventured to ask, “You doing okay?”

The scowl you wore was anything but, “Why did you do that?!?” The words spat from your lips surprised him.

“Excuse me?” Eddie responded, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Yo-you shouldn’t have told him!” Worry was etched all over your face, Eddie didn’t realize the consequences of what he did would have, but you did, oh, you did.

“D-do you realize what you just fucking did?” You wanted to cry, or you were already crying, you couldn’t tell when your cheeks were wet already.

“I—”

You interrupted him. “I-I don’t need this, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset—”

“I’m not upset!” Your scowl deepened, face flushed with frustration.

He tried to reach closer, tried to help you but you refused. “Don’t- just don’t!”

“I-I don’t need to be saved or protected, okay?” Your lips wobbled, “just l-leave me alone, Eddie.”

“What?” His face fell, lips downturned, as he struggled to comprehend your sudden detachment.

“Leave me alone, I-I can take care of myself!” You begged, but that anger sank on your chest, it made you bitter, made you want to close up entirely.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” He spat, hands ruffling through his hair in anger. He took a step closer to you, stomach churning with the need to hold you.

“Pinky don’t you fucking see it? I care about you, you’re the only thing I care about in this goddamn world! How the fuck do you expect me to leave when you’re hurt?” His voice cracked, and your gaze softened with it.

“How do you expect me to not beat the shit out of that fucking asshole for doing that to you?” The raw emotion in his voice was enough to pierce through your defenses, making your heartache.

“I get it, I get that you’re tough, but shit—”

“I can’t just sit and watch you get hurt… I can’t.” The truth in his words hung heavy in the air, it was almost like a shift between the two of you, like the barrier finally dissipating, so that the true feelings would prevail.

Yet, despite that you pushed back, your own stubbornness overtaking you. “But I want you to leave me alone!”

You knew your words were nothing but a lie, you needed someone, him specifically. Sure, you had always been tough, but this? This was too much. And you knew he was the only one who could make you feel better, yet like an idiot, you pushed him away. That’s all you were good at, wasn’t it?

Your tears came back when you saw his face, defeated, all because of you. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve you. He deserved better, he shouldn’t be roped up in this mess. You had to push him away, you fucking had to.

He didn’t do anything but look at you. Really, really looked at you.

And you looked a mess, hair disheveled, mascara running down your cheeks, bruises on your arm, knees scrapped, lip wobbling, and you could barely stand. The worst possible condition he saw you in.

He knew what you were doing, you were pushing him away because you were afraid. A move, he always pulled, a move he was good at until he met you. He understood you, possibly in a way no one ever could.

Eddie, undeterred, stepped closer to you with a calm determination. Your head snapped up at the movement, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration.

“No.” He muttered.

“What?”

“I’m not gonna leave.”

“But—”

“No but’s, wear your jacket, I’m taking you home.” His tone was clear, not harsh, not soft either. Just letting you know that he was here, he was always going to be here and he was not leaving, even if you tried so hard to make him.

“I-I don’t think I wanna go home.” You muttered.

“My place?” You nod softly.

You don’t know why it caused you to break down again, but it did, tears were your friend and they were overspilling faster than you intended them to. His arms opened up instinctively and you didn’t hesitate to let him engulf you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured between sobs, the words catching in your throat. “‘M sorry, didn’t mean it, ‘m so sorry, sorry, so—” Hiccups interrupted your apologies, but Eddie hushed you gently, his presence making you feel at ease.

“I know, I know…” he cooed, hand ghosting over your back, the hold he had on you tight enough to let you know that you were safe. “It’s okay, honey.” He reassured. The sweet name had your heart beat faster once you looked up at him.

“I-I didn’t mean it.” You stammered all teary-eyed, and Eddie couldn’t help the way his chest tightened, you didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve to cry. He was going to make sure you were okay.

“Hey, hey, I know.” He cooed softly, gently caressing your face.

“P-please, don’t leave.” Your tone framed the words so gut-wrenchingly painful that Eddie ached, his heart broke a million times, over and over, pieces to pieces.

“Never.”

“I’d never leave you.”

NOW STEVE'S BRUNCH.

With the missing pieces of the puzzle finally being revealed to Eddie, that memory was what he replayed in his head, over and over, until he finally couldn’t handle the way Steve reassured you, hand on your waist as he told you idiotic jokes.

He couldn’t shake off it, he shouldn’t just leave it like this. He should fight for you, he should do something. His hand was quick to fish out the notebook, his eyes scanned through it to find the perfect note, maybe, this would help you realize that he had always been there for you. A feeble attempt, but he didn’t have any other choice, you didn’t want to talk to him, so he just slipped the note to Jonathan and left.

You watched him leave, a scowl on your face, heart aching when he didn’t even utter a goodbye to you. It was hypocritical, considering that you had asked him not to acknowledge you, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help yourself when it came to him.

Hours had passed since that moment and you had apologized to Jonathan and Nancy a hundred times by now, but they shrugged it off without a care. God, you really didn’t deserve them, did you?

And everything was going finally back to normal. Sipping the cocktails and munching on the amazing pancakes Steve had made everyone, and dabbling your feet in the water as laughter was all that surrounded the group.

This was what it should’ve been, all of you, and Eddie. If he hadn’t brought her.

But of course, all the bliss disappeared once Steve decided to bring it up again.

“So… how do you feel?” You threw him a glare, splashing some of the chlorine-filled water directly at his hair.

“Jesus, not the fucking hair!” He groaned, ruffling it with his daggering glare thrown at you. “Now you have to tell me!” He insisted, shoulder nudging yours.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you muttered, facing away from him as you felt everyone eyeing you.

“Maybe, we should.” Jonathan chimed in, making you furrow your brows.

“What does that mean?” Steve replied before you did.

With a sigh, Jonathan extended a rustled paper, and you immediately recognized what it was, “He said he wanted me to give this to you.”

“A note? So brave of him,” Steve mocked with a roll of his eyes, groaning when Nancy elbowed him.

Robin hid her giggle with her hand, and Nancy threw her an icy glare, shutting both of them up.

Your brows furrowed in disbelief, lips kissing your teeth as you snatched it out of his hand. “Oh, he did?” You didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but it was pissing you off at this point.

He didn’t utter a single word to you. And now he didn’t even have the decency to give you this?

Steve was right.

Why was he being a fucking coward?

You were quick to get up from the side of the pool, plopping onto the nearest chair to read the contents.

You could feel their eyes on you but they were quick to hide it, going back to their chatter.

“When she gave me this, I never thought I’d actually end up writing in it for anything other than lyrics. Some ideas. But ever since we kissed, I can’t stop or control my thoughts, it’s been nonstop flowing and this is the only way I can express it. The only thing to make me feel sane, to make it seem like it really was real. My mouth hasn’t shut up about her since she kissed it, my thoughts haven’t been okay ever since I saw the curl of her lips right after she kissed me. I know how hard it is for her, I know how much she struggles with that dipshit who doesn't deserve her. But it doesn’t matter, now. I’ll wait. I’ll wait forever if she asks me to. I’ll do anything if she asks me to.”

You turned the note over, nothing else was written, with your brows pinched together angrily, you smushed it into your pocket, ignoring the protests of everyone while you jumped into your car in a hurry.

What the fuck was he thinking giving you this?

What the fuck was his problem?

If he wanted you, why couldn’t he just tell you?

And if so, why did he even bring Chrissy?

It wasn’t long till you made it to Eddie’s trailer, and with your harsh knocks, it wasn’t long till Eddie opened it.

“Jesus Christ—” His words fell in the air at the sight of you, eyes widening.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You yelled, lines on your forehead deepening into a frown as you held up the note in his face.

“You didn’t utter a single word to me, and you’re just giving this note to Jonathan?” He stammered, mouth unable to find the words to speak, not really expecting you to confront him like this.

“Why don’t you just say it to my fucking face?”

“I would, if you weren’t so busy.”

Your brows pinched together, “excuse me?”

“Is this some kind of a joke?” He asked.

“Y-you tell me not to speak with you! You tell me that we shouldn’t ever see each other again, then you leave with Steve and somehow I’m the problem?” He said, exasperated.

Was he… jealous? Of Steve?

“No, the problem is you being a coward!” You raised your voice, hand pressing the note to his chest dramatically.

“You think I’m a coward? I’m the furthest fucking thing from it, and you know that.”

“You think a coward would put everything aside for you? You think a coward would run away with you?”

“O-okay, okay!” You want him to stop speaking, because you know he’s right, he wasn’t a coward, at least when it came to that. But he was a coward when it came to his feelings, and maybe it wouldn’t have pissed you off this much if you weren’t one too.

The two of you were dancing around what you actually needed to talk about, feelings, and it was getting ridiculous at this point, because neither of you could pull away, no matter how many times you said you would. He pulled you in, and you pulled him in.

“I fucked up, I did. But don’t ever act like I’m the one who ran away when things got too hard, okay?” He leaned further on the door frame, face inches away from yours, it made your breath hitch, heart thumping inside of your ribcage.

Your words meshed together when your gaze stooped on his lips. He was close, so close, and he occupied your mind. “H-How did we even go back to this? It’s like we’re moving around in a stupid fucking circle and—” You took a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

“I told you I didn’t want to do this back and forth with you and here we are again!” It was frustrating, everything with him was frustrating, but you couldn’t stay away from him, how could you?

Those five years had been hell.

“Are you kidding?” His words were dripping with irritation, “You came to my door! Started screaming in my face and waving notes!”

“I only did it because you were too much of a fucking coward to give me the note!” Now it was fully getting ridiculous, arguments turning into a bickering old couple.

“I told you I’m not a coward—” He defended.

You interrupted with, “Fine, fine! You are not a coward whatever!”

“What you are is fucking infuriating!” You spat, taking a step closer to him.

“Infuriating? You started this!” He fueled it, mirroring your steps, one more step from either of you, and his lips would be pressed onto yours.

“Oh, so I kissed Chrissy?” You scoffed, arms crossed against your chest.

“Jesus, that’s not what I meant!” He almost groaned, frustrated.

“You want me to prove it to you? You want me to tell you how much I messed up? I’ll fucking do it.”

There was that tension between the two of you again, it wasn’t filled with hatred in the slightest, but there was so much unresolved shit that it might as well suffocate you if Eddie stepped any closer, it ached, making a way to your heart.

Three hours ago you wanted him out of your life, for good. Now, all you wanted to do was see him prove himself to you, it was stupid, psychotic, and maybe a little selfish. But you couldn’t help yourself when it’s him.

“You will?” You stammered, you didn’t fully know what that meant, but it was somehow making your heart jump knowing that maybe the notes still meant something. Maybe, just maybe he wanted you, still. Your forehead relaxed, and lips itched to curl into a smile.

And of fucking course, Eddie caught it. “Yes.” He said, all smugly, making you want to roll your eyes.

“G-good, uh, until then, I-I mean it, I don’t want to see you.” You shifted uncomfortably in your place, fully realizing how close he was to you, and it somehow brought confidence to Eddie.

He tssked, “Then you probably shouldn’t come to my door, then.” His nose scrunched sarcastically, eliciting an eye roll from you.

“Munson.” You warned.

“Pinky?”

“You really are infuriating.”

“Am I?” He tilted his head all adorably.

“Yes.”

“See you tonight, sweetheart.” He winked.

And you groaned with that, flipping him off while you hurried back to your car.

He closed the door with an amused smile, his nose scrunching as he replayed the conversation in his head.

“So you two good now?” Wayne’s grouchy tone almost had Eddie jump in place.

“Jesus Christ, Wayne! Were you just eavesdropping on our conversation?”

“What? You said y’all had the worst fight of your lives, that don’t seem like it to me.” He shrugged.

“We did— but uh, I don’t know, I just don’t know what the actual fuck is going with us, I thought I was dead to her but then she just barges in—”

“She cares about you, Eddie.” Wayne sighed.

“I know that girl like the palm of my hand, if you were dead to her, she wouldn’t even acknowledge you, just her bein’ a big fireball shows she still cares.”

Eddie sighed, “But she said—”

“Hell to what she said! Both of y’all are idiots when it comes to this, you go prove to her that you’re sorry, tell her how you feel and then you can thank me.” He exclaimed.

“But—”

“Boy, do what I told you, apologize to that sweet girl, and make sure you do it until she forgives you.” Eddie threw a look at Wayne.

And Wayne dismissed it with his finger pointing at him, “I mean it, Eddie, after all the shit you told me about what that little blondie did to my Pinky, you should be on your knees beggin’!”

“Okay, okay!” Eddie admitted the defeat.

“Jesus, old man, it wouldn’t hurt for you to just take your nephew’s side once in a while, would it?” He mocked dramatically.

He threw a daggering look at Eddie, “Fine, fine, I’ll apologize.” Wayne narrowed his gaze. “A proper apology.” Eddie muttered, almost embarrased. “And?” Wayne raised his brows. Eddie groaned loudly, “and I’ll tell her how I feel.”

✦ final authors note — okay i promise the next two chapters are going to be less angst-filled (like gonna be worth the wait i promiseee) 🤭 and yes the note was inspired by alex turner's letter to alexa chung okay!! reading that at like 13 altered my brain chemistry a LOT. anyway like i said pls leave some feedback i swear it motivates me a LOTTT. thank u for reading ilyy💗

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #getaway car #getaway car series

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last-flight-of-fancy · 10 months

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hi hello i hope you don't mind but Special Interest Infodump Mode has been activated please keep hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times-

this explanation comes to us courtesy of Dark Road! You know, that cutesy little mobile game where literally the whole cast except the two protagonists dies. This is on brand bc the explanation has it's own fridge horror levels to it if i think too hard about it tbh.

So, worlds have hearts. We've known this since KH1, seen what happens to a world that loses its heart, and how they can be affected. It's rarely been expounded on beyond that however, aside vague allusions to the titular Kingdom Hearts being/harboring the Heart of All Worlds.

(which has. other implications now that i think about it but that's stepping into theorising territory. im sorry im trying really hard to stay on track honest)

fast forward to Dark Road, where we have a bunch of kids venturing out into the worlds for the first time, and as such have to have things explained to them (and thus the audience). NOW i will note here that KH looooooves unreliable narrators and characters imparting incorrect information without knowing it, so there is always the possibility that this could later turn out to be wrong, but currently I see no reason this would be the case and thus for now i feel safe in taking their words at face value unless otherwise contradicted.

Why are there no people? Because each world is alive, and after the Keyblade War sundering THE World into MANY Worlds, each needed to recover and restore what was lost; life, time, movement.

This bit here is important, bc as a result

All of this is the direct result of the Keyblade War of old. Even after so much time, the bits of worlds are *still* recovering, and I do think there's something to be said about how like... the repition between worlds and their apparent stagnation often *stops* after Sora visits them. I don't think it's because Sora's special(tm), but rather just because of who he is; the Dark Road kids are told never to interfere, and as a result the worlds they visit that Sora also visits later are exactly the same to Sora as they were 80+ years before.

But when Sora visits the same world only a short time after his first visit, things CHANGE. Hercules' story moves forward, Simba is having a crisis about being king, Jack Skellington has learned his lesson about Christmas and is on to new shenanigans. And that's only in kh2! in kh3 we see Twilight Town fill with people, barren Olympus expands into a full town (and there's more there too with BBS and how the Wayfinder Trio may have been Olympus' start towards restoring itself completely, and Sora's later arrival more speeding things along)

my point here is *connections*, which is a consistant and overarching theme of the series. Empty worlds are baby worlds, still healing and restoring from being broken away from the rest, and what helps along that healing? Being connected to others.

Which is to say that the keyblade weilder's doctrine of 'do not interfere' while most certainly well-intentioned (as Dark Road also points out, one persons darkness is anothers light, and morality is not a solid truth across worlds, so interfering is risky at best and dangerous at worst), the flip side to this is that without being connected, without that ''interferance'', the world's restoration stagnates and struggles. It will still get there eventually (the Tangled world seems to be doing alright for example), but chances are it might've been a little easier/faster if someone had done a little interfering.

tldr keyblade war broke the worlds and reset them all to zero. As the worlds heal time stops until it's People finally pop back into existance and their stories can resume. And that's how the invisible crowds in early kh games are canon.

#I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE INFODUMP MODE IS NOT ALWAYS GOOD AT BEING CLEAR #and also i kept slipping into speculation mode #im sorry i cant help it kh does this to me #its just so juicy #stop talking to yourself flight #kingdom hearts #meta

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tonkatsubowl · 9 months

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false love.

jing yuan x fem!reader nsfw themes (cursing and stuff i think. mentions of domestic abuse and self harm. mentions of suicide. no, jing yuan aint hurting u bb girl). read at your own risk. english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)

⪩ arranged marriage. the reader and jing yuan have an arranged marriage and she is stuck, disliking every moment of it, until...

TERM DIRECTORY ◖y/n: your name ◖e/c: eye color ◖h/c: hair color ◖l/n: last name

part two. / part three. / part four. / part five. / part six. / part seven.

"worthless girl," you hear your father say as he smacked down the scrolls onto the floor, "the most you can do for this family is to not be fucking useless and accept this marriage. but since you aren't listening, we will still go through it anyway."

but that wasn't surprising. your family was known to do things to and for you without your consent. this marriage? this arranged marriage? you didn't know about it until you woke up this morning, and apparently this had been planned for months now. you didn't know who you were getting married to, but according to your siblings (that also loathed you as the rest), you were getting married to a military leader.

you were the eldest child of the l/n family, and every first born child was expected to at least be married in their early ages, but if the child fails to meet that traditional requirement, then they would be forced into an arranged marriage.

in truth, you didn't trust anyone. you didn't go out as often, you didn't know a lot of men. you didn't trust any men. you weren't fearful, but with how the world is, you just couldn't trust anyone. and now here you are, forcing to sign your life away to a man you've never met. a man you will hate.

you were a quiet child. despite being the oldest, your younger siblings were treated with respect, love and care...because they seemed to be more talented than you. however, because you were the oldest, you were easy to get rid of. then again, your family wanted to get rid of you from the beginning. it was to the point where your father had practically brainwashed your siblings to dislike you. ultimately for no reason, too. but you just went with it. you were used to this treatment. why haven't you died sooner? you should've been successful in your past attempts.

"dear," you hear your mother call out to your father, "general jing yuan is here."

"ah, brilliant. we can get rid of this useless little girl once and for all." your father replied as he stood up.

as your father left the scene to greet your unknown fiance, you stared yourself at the mirror. you wore a crimson cheongsam, and some decorative ornaments that covered your visage. you sat there, solemn and dull, unable to truly feel anything. you...didn't feel beautiful, even though the house servants of your home had pampered you up enough to look..."decent" and "pleasing" enough to the eye. you just didn't see the beauty in you. you always thought of yourself as useless. ugly. worthless. and now here you are, still looking the same as you were being sent off to spend the rest of your life with some man you never met.

"y/n." a house servant enters your room, bowing formally. "it's time."

slowly, you got up, silently making your way to follow the servant to where the private wedding would take place. you walked past your younger siblings who followed their gaze with you, ultimately disappointed in you, and ready to get rid of their older sibling from the rest of their lives. they will never see you again. and you will never see any of these filthy relatives ever again. that was the best part, at least.

entering the room, you were greeted with the sight of an unfamiliar man who has his back turned towards you. his silver, fluffy hair held up, the government official who officiates your marriage, and your cruel parents to witness your marriage.

you didn't even dare to look at the general. you didn't care. you just wanted to die as quickly as possible. a part of you had hoped that he was kind enough to kill you the same day the both of you wed...so you didn't have to live in this world anymore where you were always hurt. always distrusting others. always meant to be a failure.

the general stole a look at you, however, but he didn't say anything. he patiently listened to the officiate's words, and replied with an, "i do". and you did the same, but your voice was quiet. delicate. precious. like a flower that was stomped on repeatedly, barely able to survive. wedding vows and other wedding-related stuff later, you were finally sent off to be escorted by jing yuan, his lieutenant yanqing, off into his home to live in forever.

standing before you was the sanctum, and you came here by a fancy carriage. the city was in celebration due to the general's wedding. others were happy, and you were the only person who...just didn't seem excited.

"y/n," you hear the general speak to you in a loving voice. dangerous, you thought. it's a lie. it's a fake. he's just acting sweet because he's your husband. behind closed doors, he'll... "we're here."

extending a hand towards you, he caught you flinching. you had thought that the general would hit you, or harm you in some way...but opening your eyes, you see that he merely wanted to hold your hand to escort you out of the carriage. slowly, you nod, taking his hand. shaking. you were afraid, but you tried not to show it.

unbeknownst to you, both yanqing and jing yuan made eye contact with each other briefly after you had flinched.

jing yuan carefully escorted you out of the carriage, and slowly wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he gave a wave towards his people. yanqing was nearby, and another made her appearance.

"ah, fu xuan," jing yuan greeted, "has everything been complete?"

"yeah," fu xuan replied, "lunch has been set up, as well as everything else. i made sure to give you extra dessert this time since you kept complaining last time." a roll of the diviner's eyes, earning a heart-filled laugh from the general. "congratulations on your wedding anyway. and ma'am... miss y/n." a formal bow. "i am fu xuan. master diviner of the divination commission, at your service. please do not hesitate to call for me if you need any assistance."

"haha! thank you, fu xuan."

you were silent, still. you didn't even respond. your eyes remain downwards, staring into nothingness below you. fu xuan looked at yanqing, then to jing yuan, who had nodded slowly. fu xuan nodded, as though they were communicating with each other in silence. then, the master diviner left, leaving you and your husband to enter the sanctum.

upon entering, you were greeted with more of his assistants and servants, which you didn't even bother to care about. you just wanted to disappear. you just wanted to⸻

"y/n." you hear the general's voice. "i hope everything has been to your liking so far. there will be a lunch that has been prepared for us this afternoon to celebrate. would you like some warm tea before hand?"

you paused for a moment as he looked down towards you. you were unable to look at him, but you would want some tea...only due to the fact your hands were cold. you wanted to hold a cup of hot tea to warm them up. "...⸻⸻yes."

it mustered everything for you to respond. god, you felt so weak. you were so delicate. jing yuan smiled softly at you, slowly reaching towards your hands...before stopping.

"...may i hold your hand, y/n?"

you pause, looking at his own hands which were close to yours. you were scared. you were hesitant. but... you were getting cold due to your anxiety.

"..." you nodded slowly, as he took your hands in his.

god, they were warm. they were...soft. they were rough due to the fact he's been in many battles, and they were...large. surprisingly enough, you felt...so safe. jing yuan felt your hands relax in his, earning him a rewarding smile for himself. "let's prepare some tea together. do you happen to favor jasmine?"

your eyes sparkled for a bit. yes, jasmine was your favorite. you loved jasmine tea. it was one of the few comfort teas that you would drink to calm yourself. this time, you displayed a bit of expression as you nodded. "y...yes. jasmine tea is actually my favorite."

"aah, is that so?" jing yuan chuckled, "it is one of my favorite as well. i'll be sure to brew it properly so you can a strong flavor. our tea has been harvested from the best of the best, after all."

you looked down, a bit excited. but you were afraid that if you showed any sort of emotion...you would get hit. but you kept your gaze low to your feet, not wanting to look...

then, jing yuan escorted you to the patio outside, which you were greeted by the sight of the beauty of xianzhou luofu. you could see the sky...you could see the birds flying. for the first time, you felt so...free. but you were unsure.

your husband escorted you to your seat, then right after, he began to brew the tea before you. you watched carefully, seeing everything that he did...and giving you the opportunity to actually give the general a look. he...was beautiful. his silver hair, his golden eyes... he seemed so trusting. he was beautiful. too beautiful. and you were married to him.

god, he must be in love with someone else. he was cheating on you, you bet. he was just here to follow traditions, you bet. there must be another woman involved. you weren't the only one, you thought. there had to be⸻

"y/n?"

you snap back to reality as your eyes look up to meet jing yuan's. the look on his face...the look of sincerity. a gentle look. god, he was so beautiful. and his eyes looked so...soft. he tilted his head, his smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you with a bit of concern.

disgusting.

"are you alright?"

your eyes soften a bit, gaze returning to fixate on the jasmine tea that he had poured for you already.

"you haven't touched your tea, yet. is something the matter? do you believe i have poisoned it? i can drink it for you, if you'd like."

you shake your head. "n-no, it's alright. i just...spaced out."

it didn't matter if it was poisoned. it would be another way to go out.

you pick up the cup of tea, bringing it up to your lips, tasting the warmth of the jasmine-induced tea and...

ah.

your eyes bright up. your cheeks paint themselves with a soft, crimson color. it was...sublime. the taste of the tea was perfect. it was amongst the best...no, it was the best jasmine tea you've ever tasted. it was...perfect. it was amazing.

you could see jing yuan smiling as well, seeing that he was very observant to your behavior and to what you liked, disliked...and what made you fear the most.

"it's...it's really good," you murmur, "i enjoy it. a-alot. th...thank you."

jing yuan's smile widened. "of course. anything to make my wife happy, after all."

happy...happy?

what a strange man.

to fixate on one's happiness⸻yours, especially. was this an obligation, or just something he wanted to do willy-nilly? you were unsure, but for whatever the future holds for the both of you...you hoped that it would make you disappear soon.

but, truth to be told, the future that was promised for you was no danger, neither was it truly a tunnel of neverending darkness.

unbeknownst to you, you were free. and you were going to be happy.

and jing yuan will make sure of it.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan

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