#(using it to share stupid jokes and so forth)

[auroralwriting]

𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦

pairing: finnick odair x victor!reader

summary: your stylist must hate you, putting you into a corset so tight. thank god finnick odair is there to save you

warnings: female reader, finnick and reader are friends with implied feelings, mentions of capitol people being awful people, finnick being a sweetheart, no use of y/n

: ̗̀➛ masterlist

If there was one thing you were certain of, it was that you hated Capitol parties. They were always extremely extravagant, filled with the most obnoxiously unaware people you had probably ever met. Being a Victor was nothing less than a major pain in the ass. You lived, but you also lived with the pains of the Capitol and Snow breathing down your neck every five seconds.

It wasn't uncommon for Victors to be invited to parties in the Capitol. It was actually rather unusual for them not to be invited. After all, they were the real Capitol stars. So, here you were, drinking some bubbly liquor that tasted incredibly awful in comparison to any other drink, fake smiling and laughing with some socialites who wouldn't leave you alone for more than two minutes at a time.

Their stories were very unimpressive. Dull and lifeless, like how someone stepped on a bug while shopping, or how another ate so much they had to throw up six times. Stories from the Districts were always better. Folk stories or real, it really didn't matter. At least they were interesting and not about something stupid like fashion or gossip.

The worst part of the whole night was that your stylist must've hated you. You wore some long, pirate-esque, flowy skirt with the most painful heels that had ever been made along with the tightest corset you'd ever worn. It was squeezing all of your insides in all the wrong ways. If you turned the wrong way or breathed too hard, it really hurt. You were sure if you bent over, you'd crack your ribs. It was torturous to be wearing such a thing.

You managed to laugh at all their jokes, share stories back and forth, and pretend to be interested just long enough to tolerate the pain. But now it was becoming a little bit too hard to manage. It felt like you could no longer breathe normally. You were all too aware of your breathing. If you stopped thinking about it, there was a chance you'd stop completely, at least, that's what you convinced yourself. Your fake smile seemed harder to keep up as a socialite finished their story.

"Honestly, isn't that just the most terrible thing you've heard?" You fake laughed, nodding along as best as you could with your circumstances and disinterest. "I mean, I couldn't imagine anything more awful that a broken heel!" How ignorant. Ever heard of The Hunger Games?

"I would have thrown a fit it if were me," another socialite said, seeming very remorseful.

A different one nodded, "Truly the most nightmarish ending to your evening."

As you stood there, you wondered if it could it be possible that the corset was getting tighter. There was no possible way it could have been, but it sure felt like it. The squeezing was becoming incredibly unbearable. Every little breath ached your ribs and sides. You were positive there would be bruises in the corset's place tomorrow. Maybe the injuries you'd sustained during your Games a few years ago weren't so bad seeing as you were sure you were about to suffocate and die right there on Snow's courtyard.

"The only nightmarish ending I can think of is leaving this party without a lovely lady on my arm." It was like the heavens had graced you with Finnick's presence. If you could have released a breath of relief, you probably would have. "Good evening, ladies, gentlemen," Finnick turned to you, giving you a small smile. You returned it, strained, but you returned it.

Oh, sweet Finnick. He was your best friend. His presence was so comforting no matter where you were. It was times like these you wondered how he could just waltz over when you needed him the most. You weren't sure how he did it, but you were damn thankful that he did. You were hoping he would get the hint that something was wrong without needing to raise all hell to make it obvious.

"I can't see you having a hard time leaving without a gorgeous, lucky woman on your arm," the first socialite said to Finnick. She must've hoped it was her. "After all, you are our Golden Boy."

Finnick chuckled, smiling with those gorgeous teeth of his. "Well, someone has to keep the standards high."

"I'm sure you won't have trouble leaving here with a lucky man, either, darling." Your eyes shot over to the third socialite who had addressed you. You could barely breathe, let alone speak anymore.

"I'm sure I won't." Your voice felt strained. Did it sound strained? You hoped it didn't. The last thing you wanted was to look like you were suffering.

Finnick, however, could sense the tone in your voice from a mile away. You were his friend, after all. Probably his best one if he was being honest. The sharp nod you gave, the raised, airy tone to your voice were all very worrisome signs. His eyes searched your face for answers you tried to hide from any prying eyes. However, the way you tugged down at the bottom of your corset was.. something. Were you anxious, uncomfortable, upset? Finnick couldn't place it. There were just too many missing details. He knew something was wrong. It was like putting together a puzzle without looking at the picture on the box.

The conversation continued onwards. Eventually, you found yourself leaning into Finnick's hand that moved to softly rest on your lower back. You couldn't decide if it was for comfort or in case you passed out from lack of oxygen. You assumed it was for comfort. The good news was that if your face turned blue, you'd match the shades of your outfit for the night. If you considered that good news. Maybe it wouldn't look all that displaced after all.

Only one singular minute had passed and you quickly realized that not even Finnick's welcomed gesture would be enough to help you. You felt yourself begin to panic, the worst possible thing you could do in this situation. The more you panicked, the more your breathing would increase. That would only cause yourself more pain and frustration, not to mention it would double your anxiety. What a horrible domino effect that would be.

Keeping your cool was becoming impossible. You tried to hold as still as a statue to keep from moving and upsetting the corset more, but it was proving very difficult. Holding your breath wasn't really an option here, so the only thing to do was try and remain calm.

When the first very sharp pain radiated through your ribs, you knew you were done for. You sucked in a very noticeable breath, thankfully, only Finnick had heard. The conversation had continued, but the words had fallen deaf to your ears. It had been long forgotten amid your growing panic.

"Ah," Finnick said, abruptly pausing the conversation, "we completely forgot, but we're meant to meet with the president. If you'll excuse us." Finnick was pushing on your lower back, now. He guided you through the crowd, up some stairs and into one of the first open rooms he could find. The moment you were inside, you pressed on your stomach, trying to give yourself comfort, but ultimately failing. "What's wrong?" Finnick quickly asked, approaching you with worry in his expression. "Sweetheart, talk to me."

Now you were positive you couldn't talk. Your head felt dizzy and your tongue felt numb. You shook your head, tears brimming your eyes as you scratched at the corset. Finnick's eyes were darting to your hands and back to your face over and over, trying to understand what you were trying to convey to him.

You opened your mouth, trying to find words, but all you could manage was an awful wheeze. Your lungs and throat burned like fire. You were sure your face was turning red. Finnick's eyes widened as he quickly grabbed your shoulders, turning you around so your back was facing him. You felt his hands on your back again, but this time, they had a mission. Finnick grabbed a hold of the ribbon of your corset, not so much as grunting as he tore it apart.

The moment the ribbon tore, you gasped, sucking in as much air as you could as you fell to your knees, holding the front of the corset to your chest as you heaved, the air feeling so incredible that you took note to never take breathing for granted. Finnick was by your side in a heartbeat, hand on your back rubbing soothing circles on your now exposed skin. "It's okay, you're okay. Slow, deep breaths. Don't rush, nice and slow." His voice slowly worked the panic out of your system, your inhales deep, but exhales shaky and unsteady.

"I couldn't breathe," your voice was soft, almost as if talking were still too much to handle, "every breath hurt."

Finnick nodded, "I know, honey. I know, it's alright now. You're okay." You looked up to Finnick, watching his expression. He no longer looked panicked, but he still looked just as worried as before. "Do you need anything? Water?"

You shook your head. "Sit with me? Please?"

The two of you sat against the couch, sitting on the floor looking utterly exhausted. It was obvious the night had worn you both out, from the socialization to your near suffocation. Your head fell over, leaning on Finnick's shoulder as his head rested on top of you own.

"Do you want to go sailing tomorrow?" Finnick quietly asked. "I heard the waves will be perfect. You can bring that book you're reading and we can have lunch."

"That sounds nice," you hummed, "I'd like that a lot."

After a few more quiet minutes, you realized both of your absences would start to look rather suspicious. You both knew that it was long past time to go back to the party, but the silence you shared was too nice to give up just yet.

"Thank you for saving me," you thanked, looking over and up at Finnick.

He shook his head with a soft exhale, "You don't need to thank me. I'm just glad I got you up here in time." Finnick slowly stood up, holding your head as he stood so you wouldn't fall over. He held out a hand to help you stand up.

"Wait, I can't go back out there like this." You could. The Capitol people would love it. Seeing you holding the corset onto your chest to cover yourself. You knew deep down that the position you were in would make the people go wild for you. It was the kind of attention you weren't looking for. The kind of attention you never looked for.

Finnick didn't hesitate to take off his poet shirt, leaving his upper half bare, besides his shark tooth necklace. He didn't even need a second thought. The moment you started to speak, he knew what you were going to say. It was an easy choice for him to make. He would do anything to protect you.

Denying Finnick's kindness wasn't something he'd let you turn down, so you accepted. Finnick turned around while you put it on, only turning back around when he heard you fumbling with the sleeves. He helped roll them up so they weren't as long, while you began to tuck it into your skirt.

"You'll get cold," you commented worriedly, remembering what the chilled breeze had felt like on your own skin not too long ago.

"Then stay with me and keep me warm," Finnick replied, a small smile on his face. You chuckled airly, smiling back at him. "You look beautiful. They'll think we both just did a small wardrobe change. And that's what we'll tell them if they ask. I doubt they will. Capitol isn't all that observational."

You looked at Finnick, biting your bottom lip, "I wish we didn't have to go yet." You wished you could stay in this room with Finnick all night. Unfortunately, that was no option.

He seemed to agree based on the way his smile turned lopsided. "Just think about all the fun we'll have tomorrow. The waves, the wind, us. I'll even bring us some coconuts to crack open."

"And my book," you insisted. "I'll read it to you."

"My favorite activity," Finnick nodded. He held his hand out to you, "C'mon, honey. Let's get this night over with." His offer was easily understood, even if he didn't say it. Let's get this night over with together.

[godzexperiment]

nix strongly favoring sign language to communicate- when he's exhausted/or just woken up if he needs to communicate (unless writing is an option & assuming he's not too lazy to just gesture in an way that's like 'give me an moment') or just sometimes he just really feels like not talking

-one of the communication methods/languages that stays with him when he doesn't have his memories

-the way most instances of him using it in those verses is akin to the rolling of his eyes but typically less spotted, ranting or the obvious sometimes he's just so !!!! about something excess thoughts are phrased via signing while he talks or is too excited to talk

-possibly traces his hands in glow n the dark at times to have fun signing in the dark

[luvyeni]

TWO DUMB VIRGINS ๑. ( 박지성 )

PART ONE. A B friend group …

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ──── you wanted to lose it . he was tired of being made fun by his friends. both of you thinking he’d pull out fast enough… but what can you expect from two stupid virgins ? …

( 対 ) park jisung + fem. reader genre young parent au , smau · contains! mentions of sex. pregnancy talk. crude language. jokes among friends mature content

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ let’s get this going , i’m so excited about this !! the taglist for this is closed tho , i won’t be adding anyone else until the end when it’s fully released 🖤

you weren’t against the idea of losing your virginity; you weren’t innocent by any means , you knew what porn was, you were an adult… but when it came to the idea of losing your virginity the thought of it petrified you. what if it hurt so bad you cried? what if you regret it? what if the guy sucked in bed and only cared about getting his rocks off? everytime you got with a guy these thoughts plagued you and you ended up chickening out , leaving the guy with blue balls. 

“it’s not that bad i swear.” yuna said. “of course it hurts a little , there’s something that’s at least 6 inches going inside you.” you cringed hearing her talk. “but it isn’t supposed to hurt that bad, if it does he’s definitely doing it completely wrong.” yunjin said. “oh my god what if he does it completely wrong and like hurts me to the point where i can no longer have sex?” you stressed , the girls in front of you shaking their head at your dramatics. “i don’t want my first time to be my last time.”  chenle sat down in the booth of the cafe the three of you met up for lunch at. “you three still on the virgin talk.”

“yesterday i invited a boy over, 10 outta 10.” you said. “we were kissing, it was perfect.” chenle nodded. “and then your brain got in the way?” you sighed and nodded. “and he wasn’t mean about it, but like how embarrassing that me,  a 23 year old, is scared of having sex?” 

“look no one is rushing you to lose your virginity now, take as long as you need.” yunjin reassured. “besides , the men out here are trash.” yuna said. “so you really aren’t missing much.” as much as she was probably right , it’s seems like it was all people were talking about. 

meanwhile, jisung sat in a cafe of thel campus, holding his head down low as his friends laughed at joke haechan made — a joke made at his expense… his virginity. “why is this so funny?” he said. “i don’t know.” haechan shrugged. “making fun of the 23 year old virgin is very funny.” jisung rolled his eyes. “haha laugh at the virgin , sorry im not fucking every girl and guy who looks my way.” 

“well yeah , cause you aren’t fucking anyone.” the table erupted into laughter once more. “jisung don’t let them rush you.” mark spoke up. “yeah how many times has haechan found himself sitting in a clinic for antibiotics?” renjun said bluntly. “or in the line of a drug store with a morning after?” jeno followed up. “or a pregnancy test.” haechan sat up to defend himself. “hey i only stood in line for a pregnancy test once.”

“isn’t once enough for you to learn to wrap your dick up or lock it away?” jaemin said. “do i tell you what to do with jeno in our shared apartment?” haechan argued back. “hey don’t turn this on us.” jisung listened to them bicker back and forth. “the point being , don’t just lose your virginity because of peer pressure.” mark said, jaemin stopping his argument with haechan just to speak. “and once you do lose it , don’t go fucking everyone who looks at you.” haechan gasped. “are you slutshaming me?” which jaemin nodded. “yes i am you whore.” 

“there’s a party tonight that a friend of mine is throwing.” chenle said over the phone.. “i’m sure seulgi can let you off for one night?” you really didn’t feel like partying, but the other option wasn’t pleasant either. “i can ask.” throwing your bag down to the ground , your cat coming up to caress your calf with her tail. “im sure she’s gonna say yes , she loves you.” he said. “duh who else is willing to come in on a sunday to do the 79 year old grandma that only wants to talk about how much she hates her children and complains about how much she hates the haircut?”  you spoke sarcastically. “but she keeps coming back?” you snort. “that’s our problem , i’ll text her to see if i can get off.”

to seulgi : night off please 😃 4:30pm read

from seulgi : grandma? sunday? 4:35pm read

“shit.” you hissed. “grandma on sunday.” you whined. “think about it , it’s friday have a good time, recover saturday and make money on sunday.” he said. “think of the jell-o shots , think of the jell-o shots.” you sighed , nodding. “fine.”

to seulgi : you hate me don’t you 😔 ? 4:40pm read

from seulgi : go easy on the alcohol it’s like she can still smell it days later even if you shower 😉

“perfect , i’ll see you tonight!” chenle said. “yuna and yunjin are already on their way over i bet.” you hung up; just as the door of your apartment opened up. “let’s get ready bitch!” they came bursting into your room. “you both set this up.” yuna nodded. “we knew you’d tell us no , but chenle has special childhood friend privileges so we used him.” you shook your head. “also thank you because now i don’t have to work on sunday.” yunjin plopped down on your bed. “you got grandma again?” yuna asked, already going through your closet. “2 whole hours of nonstop yapping about how her kids never visit , only to be cursed at because she hates the hair cut.” you pouted. “lucky me.” 

“whos random house are we showing up to right now?” you asked as the car pulled up to the address. “why does chenle know so many dodgy people , it’s concerning.” yuna said. “maybe he’s the dodgy person in question , we never know, this could be his house.” yunjin said as the three of you exited the car; you could hear the music playing inside. “i wouldn’t be surprised he does stupid shit all the time i wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow convinced his parents to buy him a house.”

you opened the door of the house; the house being filled with people. “stay close by and don’t go home with strangers.” you said. “how about you try going home with a stranger.” you glared back at yuna who was smiling. “love you.” 

“who are you waiting for?” jisung asked chenle as they stood around the party; chenle looking around the party. “my A friend group , i invited them.” he said looking at his phone. “A friend group?” jaemin asked. “so does that make us the B friend group?” he nodded. “pretty much.” he stood up. “they’re here , i’ll see you guys.” and with that, he walked away. “i feel used all of sudden.” renjun spoke up , drink in his hand. jisung stood up. “what you have another friend group you invited?” 

“i wish.” 

you found yourself in the kitchen; looking for chenle after he promised you a drink only to never return with it. ‘it’s not easy entertaining both friend groups.’ he texted you. you scoffed maneuvering your way into the cramped kitchen to the drinks. “oh sorry.” a tall lanky boy was standing around. “you’re fine.” you said with a smile. “do you know what’s good?” he looked around. “um well i don’t drink much.” you smiled , he was cute the way he stumbled over his words. “that’s okay , what are you drinking?” he was so quick to show you his cup it made you giggle; which made his neck turn red. “i-i can make it for you.” you nodded. “thank you.” he sat his cup down; grabbing one for you. “it’s nothing special.” he said , pouring things into the cup. “he-here you go.”

he watched you nervously as you put the cup to your lips; taking a sip of the drink he made you. “do you like it?” he said ; here he was needing the approval of a stranger; haechan would've made a comment about him not having a backbone if he was here. “it’s good.” your voice bought him out of his thoughts. “really?” you nodded. “it’s not too sweet but also my throat isn’t burning from the excessive amount of alcohol.” 

you struck up a conversation with the boy; mostly leading it, he listened attentively as you spoke. “am i talking too much?” you asked , he quickly shook his head. “of course not , it’s just that i don’t normally talk to people except my friends at parties; especially — girls?” you interrupted him. “yeah; especially pretty girls like you.” he scratched the back of his neck. “you’re cute… what’s your name?” “jisung.” 

“you’re cute jisung.” 

he was about to respond when he saw haechan approaching the kitchen; why at this moment? he was so scared he’d say something that embarrassed him and he actually liked talking to you. “are you okay?” you asked. “i’m fine.” he said. “do you want to go somewhere else?” he asked , quickly before haechan reached the kitchen. “oh yeah sure, i guess.” you said , only for him to grab your wrist. “just trust me.” he said , quickly exiting the kitchen , walking straight past hyuck who turned his head like his eyes were deceiving him; but jisung didn’t even say anything, just kept guiding you through the people; and straight up the stairs to his room. 

you didn’t even say anything; and before you knew it, you were sitting on his bed. “how many people live here?” you asked , he sat down on his desk chair, rubbing his sweaty palm against his jeans. “me and five other guys.” you cringed. “frightening —  i am so sorry that was an inside thought.” he chuckled as you tried to defend yourself. “no it’s true , it’s frightening sometimes , but mark knows how to calm the house down , he’s the oldest.” you nodded. “i knew it had to be someone; either that or you have a girlfriend you’re not telling me about.”

“oh no , of course not!” he said. “i don’t have a girlfriend.” he realized how quickly he said that, cringing at how desperate that sounded. “im single.” he said much more calm. “good. me too.” he stood up from his chair. “i-i can put on some music.” he said. “anything you like , the music downstairs isn’t that good , jeno-hyung literally puts a playlist together of things he hears on the radio on the drive to work.” he said hooking his phone up to the speaker he stole from renjun. “anything is fine.” you said , standing up looking around his room; the mangas in the corner of his room , the small pile of clothes halfway kicked under the bed, that he clearly just kicked under there, you laughed to yourself. his school books on the table; he went to a different school than you — that was good. 

“do you like mangas?” he asked , follow behind you. “they’re okay, i prefer regular fantasy books , but i don’t hate them.” you went to turn around , only to bump into his chest with a small umph. “oh shit i’m sorry.” he held you by your shoulders — and out of a whim and probably a little bit of the alcohol; you kissed him.

the boy’s eyes widened; feeling your soft lips on his. it wasn’t his first kiss, but it surely was the best one he’s had. he shakenly put his hands on your waist , trying to steady himself; it’s just a kiss, it’s not a big deal… then why is he getting hard? he quickly pulled away out of shame. “is something wrong?” you asked. “i- i’ve never done this before.” he said. “kissed a girl?” you asked, he shook his head. “no-no i kissed a girl before.“ he stumbled over his words; trying to figure out what to say; but you helped him. “you’re a virgin?”

he sighed; this was his issue, girls didn’t want a virgin. they wanted someone who knew what they were doing; so he fully accepted that you were gonna reject him — but you didn’t , you grabbed his cheek, pulling him back into another kiss , using your other hand to guide his fallen one back to your waist, feeling him slightly grip it , making you gasp. “di-did i hurt you?” he said in between kisses. “no, please keep going.”

kissing him felt good; but you couldn’t deny the racing of your heart. those same concerns floating around in your head as he gently laid you on the bed , climbing on top of you. “i told you; i’ve never done this before , i don’t know what works and what doesn’t.” he confessed. “me either.” you said. “i don’t know what i’m doing either.” he was stunned. “you’re a virgin too?” you nodded. “so i guess we’re about to figure it out together?” 

pulling him into another deep kiss; pulling at his waist both of your hips moving messily against each other. it felt good; but you needed more. which is why instead of pushing him away like you normally did guys when it went too far , you pulled at his pants , signaling him to take them off. “do-do you want me to take them off?” you nodded. “ok-okay.” he stood up , hands shaking as he unbuckled his jeans. “i can take off my skirt.” you reached for your waist, both of you moving with haste but uncertainty, undressing yourselves. 

“can i be on top?” you suddenly asked. “it’s just that in the videos i watch , the girl is normally on too.” he could feel his cock twitching at the thought of you touching yourself to porn; how was it a stranger getting him like this. “su-sure.” he said , and he laid on his back , letting you climb on top of him. “is this okay?” he nodded , his hand coming up being your back to undo your bra. “you’re too good at that.” you giggled , his hips accidentally bucking up making you moan. “oh i liked that.” 

so he did it again , and you moaned again. “jisung this isn’t enough.” you whined out. “i don’t think i have any condoms.” he said. “b-but i think i can pull out in time.” he quickly followed. “you sure?” he nodded. both of you were clearly thinking with you lower parts; lowering his underwear , cheeks flushed with red as his erected cock slapped against his stomach. your eyes widening. “what? what’s wrong?” he said nervously. “you’re kinda big , how am i supposed to fit that inside me?” 

“oh um , maybe we can just try only try a little bit.” you nodded , grabbing his cock; feeling it in his heavy length in your hand. “i guess i just stroke it?” he nodded , moaning out as you slowly moved your hand. “is this okay?” he nodded. “i-i like it , bu-but can you speed up just a bit.” he bit down on his lip to contain his moans. “please don’t hide them , i like them.” you said, and he whined; he was about to cum. “wait fuck , wait let’s try and do it now i don’t think im gonna last if we keep this.” 

you lifted yourself up a bit; hovering over his length. “yo-you can go slow.” he said , you slowly sunk down on him , letting his cock slowly filled you up; just as you suspected it hurt , but not as bad as you thought it would be. “fuck.” he sighed. “fuck that feels so good.” you fully sat down on him. “does it hurt?” you nodded. “a little bit , but it’s fine.” you said , slowly moving up and down on his cock. “you took it all , fuck your really small down there , i can barely move.” he cursed , both of you moaning out as you finally got your groove. 

here you both were music from the outside and in the room fading into the background as you both got lost in each other; two strangers, all those nerves you had about losing your virginity gone as you rode jisung. jisung could hear haechan's voice in his head , it was annoying but he couldn’t wait to tell it to him. “wait wait fuck.” he grabbed your hips to stop you. “i’m not gonna last if you’re on top.” he said. “can i get on top?” 

you both switch positions and he soon was on top of you; slowly pushing himself back inside you. “faster , i can take it.” he let out a whimper like moan as he felt you better , he was deeper inside you , his cock kissing your cervix over and over. “i think-i think im gonna cum.” you gasped out. “really?” he cursed. “me too.” 

both of you now chasing your highs; his hips slapping against yours. “ji- oh my god.” your moans getting louder. “ugh fuck!” you scream as you reached your first ever orgasm outside of your fingers. “ah , fuck fuck fuck.” he moaned , he pulled out , ropes of his cum shooting from his cock on to your stomach. “shit i’m sorry i couldn’t help it.” he said breathlessly. “did you pull out in time?” you asked. “yea-yeah.” he said , you sighed. “shit let me get something to clean you up.” 

your eyes look around the room as you wait for the boys return. “are you okay?” he asked. “you seem to be out of it.” his eyes widened. “are you regretting it? did i do something wrong?” he said. “no no you’re fine.” you said. “it’s just that , i didn’t care when i lost my virginity , but i didn’t think it would be today , let alone with you.” you chuckled to yourself as he handed you a rag. “is that a bad thing?” he said nervously. “no , for a virgin you knew what you were doing.” his face turned red. “th-thanks i guess.”

“so what now?” he asked. “do we just like go our separate ways and forget this happened i’m not sure how this works.” he said , both of you now clothed. “well i don’t know wh—” before you could say anything your phone was blowing up. “oh shit i have to go.” you said , looking around. “here’s my number , use it if you want.” you quickly wrote something down , running out of the room. 

he walked over to the desk , picking up the piece of paper… he couldn’t read the last 4 numbers. he quickly opened the door trying to find you , but he was unsuccessful. “who are you looking for?” renjun came out of the bathroom. “oh no one.” he said. “well come on , walk with me to get another drink.” he silently nodded at the boy , following behind , hoping to find you down there.

unfortunately, you were already out the door , yuma had broken a heel trying to drag a drunk chenle out of the house. “i’m gonna kill him when he’s sober.” you and yunjin grabbed his legs. “i’m gonna kill him when we get into the car.” the three of you tossing him in the back seat. “i love you all.” he slurred. “friend group A for the win.” was the last thing he said , before closing his eyes. “friend group A.” yunjin who was in the front seat over it , waved him off. “it’s chenle who knows.” 

all the way home , you kept checking your phone hoping he’d text you — but he never did , you sighed. “what’s wrong , you keep sighing at your phone.” yuna asked. “nothing , just thinking about the recovery tomorrow.” you said. “you’ll be fine.” you both looking at chenle. “him i’m not so sure.”

“yn!” chenle shouted from your bed. “yn!” you turned facing him. “will you go to bed.” you said , checking your phone again. “and don’t throw up in my bed or i’ll murder you.” he whined , murmuring under his breath. “my bestfriend hates me.” he said. “she cares about her stupid phone.” he passed  back out on the bed. still no call from him. “guess he got scared.” you thought , sighing one last time before standing up , climbing into bed next to chenle. “see here i am.” you said. “good , your bed sucks.” you scoffed.

“i’m gonna wake you up in the morning by banging on two frying pans.”

( 🏷️ ). @starsungwrld @neverbeurs @chocolate-scoups @delinalovesriize @cupid-ville @maiyhw @cosmicwintr @nctislifue @httpsxnox @hyunjinslongasslegs @andyyjw @kookssecret @ithinkulikeme @meowmeowhoon @jae-n0 @413ktz @httpjiprk @antifrggile @ourshin @itskpopular @smiles4hyuck @jaeminnnanaaa17 @bbyinni @sillypaperspyeagle-blog @n0hyuck @catdonut657 @markleesleftpinky @clean-soap @janjoonty @veilstqr @mikeeel @cigsaftersuh @kittykyuuu @akirawhore

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 PREV. TDV. NEXT. .ᐟ

[tarohugs]

after you find out they cheated (nct dream)

►ot7 x reader

► angst!! some (very minute) fluff, cliff hangers..

►read part 1 here!

►a/n part 2 as requested!! although this was def not what some wanted i think this turn off events is much better. please enjoy and lmk if u do

MARK

After the dispatch rumors, Mark’s name trended on social media for the remainder of the month. Seeing his face constantly had upset you tremendously to the point where you had to mute his name and every nickname given to the boy. 

You two had not talked since he admitted to you over text he had cheated. He made many attempts to come over and make amends but to no avail, you paid no remorse to his actions. Truthfully, Mark was the love of your life and you dearly wanted to give him a chance considering he was trying his best to set forth with your relationship, but something about you couldn’t let him off so easily. 

Throughout the course of your relationship with Mark, he had always said you “were the one” and you shared many intimate moments together. Now, as you watch him through your doorbell camera making his final attempt at reconciling, you decide it is time to finally communicate your true feelings. 

He had approached your front door with flowers and a box of your favorite chocolates along with other of your most beloved items you enjoyed. His eyes swelled with tears as he began to stutter words when you opened the front door. 

“Y-y/n,” Mark faltered in shock that you opened the door before he even had the chance to knock. “I have a lot to explain, just please listen-”

You laughed, surprised he thought he even had a chance, “Mark, you know what you did was wrong and nothing can change that. Look, I didn’t answer to hear you out, I answered to tell you I’m over you and to stop bothering me.” Your eyes watered as you made eye contact with the boy that was once your lover.

“You know it’s just Dispatch,” he asserted, “None of that was the truth, you know this. Please, just listen to me, I can explain everything to you even if you don’t want to hear it. Don’t just throw away years of us for something so stupid.”

You gasped, shocked that he would claim this was stupid, “There’s nothing to explain to me, you fucked up and this is over. None of the shit I’ve seen about you this month was stupid. I’m not dumb, Mark, don’t treat me like this. You don’t deserve a second chance.”

Mark tried to speak again but you immediately shut him down with the palm of your hand signaling him to stop. Maybe you would give him a chance another day but this wasn’t the time. You never accepted the gifts from him as you shut the door in his face. 

As months went on after your final encounter with Mark, he made no other attempts to reunite with you, accepting you were ready to move on to someone better. No texts, no knocking on your door, no phonecalls, no contact at all. Your life with Mark was over for good.

RENJUN

When Renjun had admitted to you he cheated, you didn’t believe his words at first. He had to be joking, I mean who was he to cheat anyways? He was always loyal to you and never failed to ensure you were the number one thing in his life. What could possibly bring him to cheat on you?

“Renjun, what are you talking about?” you questioned, trying to come up with some explanation for his infidelity. 

He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he confessed, “You know Yeji? My new coworker? We were at a holiday party and I was drunk and you know how the rest played out.”

You couldn’t believe his words. Renjun was always the type to inform you of every event in his life. When he had told you about his annual holiday work parties, he always invited you, this year was the first you had heard nothing. As you came to the realization why, you finally connected the dots. 

Even though Renjun excused himself by offering that he was drunk, this wasn’t a drunken mistake. Renjun was intentional with his actions. If he had intended not to invite you in the first place, his objective was clear he was trying to get in Yeji’s pants. 

Not a single bone in your body felt remorse for the boy as you came to comprehend his efforts to cheat on you. “Get out,” you stated strictly, offering no emotion for Renjun to crack.

“Y/n, just give me a chance. I’ll make it up to you,” he began to plead, clutching his fingers together to create a dramatic effect. Nothing could make you forgive him.

“Renjun, you knew what you did. You’re better than this and I deserve better than whatever is going on with you,” you attempted to excuse his infidelity. Renjun had always been truthful with you and although his activities were clear, you had wanted to give him a chance despite your brain telling you not to. 

Renjun simply nodded your head at your statement, beginning to get out of your once shared bed and gather his belongings. He didn’t speak a word as he stuffed his suitcase full other than, “I’ll get the rest of my things later.” He didn’t though, after that night he had left for good.

He never texted you to gather his possessions or make amends. You went on for weeks of no contact and eventually trashed his uncollected belongings due to the high level of emotion they caused you. Not wanting to make the first text, you waited and waited for him to make a move.

Eventually your waiting had done you justice has you finally received a message from your ex-boyfriend.

renjun: y/n

renjun: let’s talk

JENO

After many failed attempts of trying to make Jeno offer some sort of apology for his actions, he eventually started ghosting you as a whole. You couldn’t believe he could once be so loving and switch so easily to being the toxic ex-boyfriend he would shame before. 

The I love you’s turned into Leave me alone’s as you constantly tried to confront him. During the course of your relationship, you two had moved in together and when he cheated on you he made no attempt to move out - simply inviting other girls over without a care in the world. 

Luckily, you two had separate rooms but this didn’t change the fact you could still hear the banging of his bedframe against the wall from one of his many one night stands. One night you had gotten so agitated by his thoughtless actions and confronted him about what was going on.

“Jeno,” you barged into his room, interrupting whatever fuck he had going on. “I’ve had enough of this.”

He pushed the half-naked girl off of him, slowly making his way to throw on a shirt, telling the girl to leave. She scoffed at you limiting her time with Jeno but quickly put on her scattered clothes, leaving your shared apartment. “Y/n, what the fuck is your problem,” he expressed angrily, clearly upset that you would interrupt such an intimate moment.

“Look Jeno, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but I’ve had enough of it. Either you stop with this or you leave. You were the one that fucked up. Figure out your life,” you finally stood your ground. Jeno had always been dominant in your relationship, and after your “break-up” this prevailed. 

He constantly made you feel bad about yourself, blaming you for “not being good enough” as the reason he had to cheat on you. Yeah, this hurt like hell. However, you were desperate to make Jeno love you again, even if he had acted so wrongly. 

Jeno rolled his eyes at your scolding, “If you want me out y/n, so be it. Just know I won’t come back.” He shut the door in your face as you listened to him slam drawers and punch the wall in anger.

You ran back to your room and shut the door behind you, sliding down it as tears began to blind your eyes. What had happened to Jeno? 

The next morning you woke up with no trace of Jeno to be found. He offered no explanation for what had changed him so tremendously but you figured you would find out when you received a knock on the door from Jaemin, Jeno’s best friend.

You answered the door reluctantly, scared Jaemin would make a comment on your puffy eyes and dishelved features. “Jaemin, what’s wrong?” you questioned, taking in his appearance. He seemed to be in the same situation as you, noticing his freshly awoken demeanor.

“Y/n, we need to talk. It’s about Jeno,” he sighed, stepping into your apartment.

HAECHAN

When Haechan saw the look on your face after you discovered him cheating, endless apologies left his mouth. He had never seen you so upset and angry with him, he admitted he deserved your backlash. 

Even though he was quick to beg for your forgiveness, you never offered it to him, opting to move on instead. You were petty and getting back together with Haechan would not be the power move. 

Although you had made it clear you were over Haechan, you never made an official attempt at breaking up with him. Instead, you had simply ghosted him as you didn’t want to make any contact with your so-called ex-boyfriend. This, instead, led you to have even more difficulties moving on as you felt remorse hooking up with other men due to some sort of tie still being connected to the boy.

Months went by and all the efforts you made to sleep with random strangers were ruined as you felt a constant cloud of guilt hanging over you. You tried to get over him by getting blackout drunk at random parties, knowing sober you would make no effort to move on. You were unsuccessful most nights but one night you were finally convinced it was your time. 

Unfortunately, the guy that you landed with in bed was only victorious due to the similar features he shared with Haechan. His hair, his voice, his eyes - everything reminded you of him. Yeah, you had technically not gotten over him, but it was a start!

You were gracious enough to recognize this was a lead in the right direction as you had finally slept with another guy since your relationship with Haechan “ended.” Though, as you began to sober up as you awoke from your one night stand, you couldn’t help but notice the man in your bed appeared too close to Haechan. 

As you took a closer look, your suspicions were confirmed. You were back to square one.

JAEMIN

Following the numerous days you had left your shared apartment with Jaemin, he began to grow concerned for your being and where you were staying. You had opted to reside in your best friend's house as she was the only one kind enough to offer you a place to stay.

Jaemin knew you lacked options to inhabit for the time being and was quick to conclude your location. No longer than two days of you staying there, Jaemin had made his way into her apartment with a bouquet of roses, reciting the speech of apologies for you to hear.

“Y/n,” he sighed, moving closer to you when you opened the front door, “I know you want nothing to do with me, but I have a lot of explaining to do. I’m so sorry for getting upset at you, you did nothing wrong. Please forgive me.”

You laughed in his face. Did he really think you would forgive him so easily? “Jaemin, I can’t believe you right now. You owe me a lot more than this,” you asserted.

He knew you would be reluctant to accept his expression of regret but he knew he could convince you no matter what it would take. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he breathed, handing you the flowers, “please give me another chance. I’ll show you the world.”

It’s crazy to think the way his final sentence could be perceived so differently. Once you had viewed the words as a way of him expressing his love, now it was simply his manipulating attempt to win you over.

Although you were upset with Jaemin for his actions, you couldn’t hate him. You had loved him for months on end and it would be difficult to get over such emotions in such a short time period. You allowed his manipulation to work on you as you offered him a second chance. 

You two continued your relationship for months, rebuilding the connection you once had, this time with more caution. As you began to fall in love again, you couldn’t help but wonder who the girl he had cheated on you with had been. This prompted you to begin searching his phone for clues on who the mistress could possibly be. 

When you arrive upon your best friend's name in his recent text messages, you ponder what the two would be conversing. As you scroll through their texts and see the endless meetups and shared intimate texts, the story finally clicked into place.

CHENLE

After Eric had shown you the texts he shared with Chenle, he was quick to console you over your ex-boyfriend. You had scheduled a meetup with Chenle immediately after and broke up with him, offering no time for an explanation from him. Eric and Yuna had been good friends of yours for years, you knew everything they told you was the truth with no sugarcoating.

As time went on, you and Eric’s relationship began to prosper into something more, sharing many endless night together but never making it further than a few stolen kisses. A couple weeks after your break up with Chenle, Eric had attempted to ask you on a date but you were quick to deny him stating that it was too early for him to make a move. 

“Y/n, I don’t understand. Were those drunken nights nothing to you?” Eric questioned, angered you could deny him so easily. 

You shook your head, upset that he would be so ignorant to ignore your emotions. “You know I just got out of a relationship, Eric, those nights meant something I’m just not ready for commitment yet.” Truthfully you never felt much for him when you were dating Chenle, but due to his chivalrous acts of exposing your cheating boyfriend, you had gained some attachment to the boy. 

Eric accepted your explanation but still attempted to win you over multiple nights in a row. Eventually, you fell into his trap and accepted going on a date with him. As you delved into a new relationship with Eric, you couldn’t help but feel as though something was off. 

Yuna wasn’t very supportive of your relationship after a couple weeks of being with him. She noticed a change in your attitude and offered no reasoning of why she further began to distance yourself from you two. The three of you were inseparable for years so you figured she was just beginning to adjust to being a third wheel.

Though something about Yuna’s lack of support for your relationship with Eric struck a nerve inside you, you couldn’t help but feel there was an underlying message behind her actions. When you received a message from the girl, you were in for a ride.

yuna!!!: don’t hate me but eric lied about chenle

JISUNG

Accidentally live streaming is one thing, having a girl speaking in the background is another. Netizens were quick to spread rumours about who the mysterious voice was in Jisung’s accidental live stream. You were also curious as to know what Jisung was truly doing in that moment of vulnerability, but when you sent him various concerned and aggravated messages, you realized none of your texts were delivered to his phone. Jisung had blocked you.

Being an idol means strict punishment from companies - and under the circumstances Jisung had fucked up, he was in for trouble. Of course his managers were aware Jisung was dating you, so they were quick to assume the mystery girl was you. Due to this, they were punished Jisung by banning all contact he had with you. This led you to having no reasoning for what was going on that day. 

You attempted to contact his members but they made no effort to offer you any explanation either, most likely scared they, too, would get in trouble. If you weren’t terrified of the company, you would reach out to his managers yourself, but you had heard of the things they did to idols and you didn’t want to risk any chance of communication you had with Jisung.

After months of no contact with the boy, you finally began to accept he wouldn’t be returning back to your life any time soon; however, when you received a letter in the mail from Park Jisung, a sliver of hope ran through your veins that this chapter of worrying would finally come to an end. 

As you opened and read the handwritten letter he had graciously sent, your eyes began to shed tears. In his heartfelt letter, he sent numerous apologies and explained the girl in the video had been one of his cousins, he was simply hanging out with family and didn’t tell you because he wanted to surprise you with a gift she had intended on giving you.

Although you were reluctant to believe such a fallacy, you knew Jisung better than anyone else, he had to be telling the truth. The only problem was, that there was no way to contact Jisung other than via the mail. Even though you had found out the truth, what was the cost?

[ellabscrush]

— play with my pussy, not my heart.

a/n; this has been an idea in my head for awhile but kept scrapping it, hopefully this is alr. btw my requests are opennn.

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

cw; smut, mdni, fingering, reader has a nervous habit that might triggering, dom!reader, flirting, language, slap kink once, arguing, abby is a dick here lol, trust issues, angst?? lmk if i missed any!!

sypnosis; your well known girlfriend who has a reputation of being a player finally decides to settle into a serious relationship with you. aware of your girlfriend’s past, abby’s project partner comes to intervene with your thoughts & worries. back and forth arguing isn’t going anywhere, you had to show her other ways on who not to mess with.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

“it’s just a small study sesh baby, nat even agreed to do it at our apartment!” abby walks towards you as she hovers over, “so no need to worry, ‘kay?”

she caresses your face and pecked your lips.

nat, aka natasha ferreira, is apart of western university’s dance team. you’ve seen her around before wearing white flowy skirts and layered jewelry. you once heard her talking about how her parents got a brand new bmw for her quinceañera.

i guess there was nothing to hate about her, other than the fact she is gorgeous and very talented with her dancing. this was just another one of your stupid overthinking.. right?

“okay abs.. thank you,” you gave her a soft smile.

“that’s my best girl.”

besides, trust was the thing you both had been working on these past months. dating abby was going to be a challenge. you knew it and your friends knew it. though they weren’t too supportive with her intentions at first, you were convinced abby could change her acts if she reallyy tried.

three knocks suddenly interrupted your little conversation. abby sprinted to the door and opens it to find a joyful figure in front of her.

nat gasps, “abby! this is my first time seeing you outside of uni,” she smiles with excitement.

abby smiled back and leaned for a hug, leaving you to stare at them with a lump of jealousy in your throat.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

one minute you were next to abby, and then the second the brunette is touching forearms besides her with those stupid doe eyes, glossed lips, and weirdly seductive black platform heels. god she’s annoying.

“your handwriting is shit!” the brunette teased, giggling as she leans to abby.

“yeah?” your girlfriend chuckles, “this is what you get for choosing me as your partner.”

nat shrugs, “well then i can deal with it.”

you tried so hard to not be bitter. really you did. but each time you glance at the two across the kitchen island, you swore the both of them were doing this shit on purpose.

sudden eye contacts with you everytime they laughed together, unrelated conversations, and some flirty remarks. oh, and not to mention the obvious footsies that was happening under the table. like you can literally see it.

“fuck me..” you muttered.

“what’s that princess?” abby asks you, the nickname made nat changed her demeanor quickly.

you turned back to meet nat’s eyes, then to abby, and back to nat.

“nothin’ love,” you put a convincing smile.

three hours long night full of giggling and jokes you didn’t even get later on.. you find yourself yelling back and forth in your shared bedroom with abby who literally couldn’t understand where you were coming from.

abby groans, “goddamnit we talked about this!”

“i never did anything to her, you were literally infront of us,” she raised her voice.

“abs, she deadass rubbed her foot on your leg multiple times and leaned to you everytime you both laughed..”you went on, getting more frustrated by the minute.

“well.. we’re just having a little fun, is that romantic to you?” abby asks with her hand crossed to her chest, her facial expression screams ‘you’re being crazy.’

you were exhausted trying to find ways to communicate without bringing up abby’s past, like you both agreed to. however, your concerns shouldn’t supposed to end in argument. you shook your head, letting out a long sigh and sat on the edge of the bed.

“i- i don’t know abby,” you stammered, “i guess it is romantic when they do the things i do to you.. since i am yours.”

you gazed down at your feet with teary eyes while unaware as you were digging your nails into your thighs. this was a nervous habit of yours in which you don’t realize you have been doing it for so long. your girlfriend, however, does.

she slowly walks closer to the edge of the bed and kneeled down to your eye level.

“you are mine.” her voice sounding more reassuring and softer like you could faint at that moment.

“i thought you could’ve been better for me..” you sniffled

abby panicks once she realizes you were crying, “baby no.. fuck i’m trying..”

“trying?” you looked up.

the blonde sighs, “will. i will be better.”

she moved your hands from your thighs with one hand, while other pushes your head closer to hers for a deep kiss. more so, a sloppy one. she wipes your cheeks and the kisses started from sweet, to mean in a heartbeat. abby stroked you waist, making you clench you thighs together.

abby smirks, “you turned on princess?” she asks and you just whimpered in response, “fuck.. i gotta wake up early tomorrow.”

knowing your girlfriend has plans tomorrow morning, this sparked an idea in your head. abby can become a submissive mess when you’re in charge. so you decide to show her other ways who not to play with, and whose pussy she can only play with!

“so?” you replied in between kisses, “don’t want me to scream your name tonight?”

.. besides, making her miss out a big free brunch with her friends the next day will be an added punishment you thought.

the blonde smiles and throws you to the middle of the bed, causing you to squeal from the unexpected move. abby aggressively pulls down your shorts and underwear. your wet slick was ready for her.

“look at you all ready for me,” she circles her thumb on your lips slowly, “gotta fuck that jealousy out quick or else i’ll be late tomorrow, princess.”

you smiled maliciously in response as you bite your lip. abby then shoves her two fingers inside your mouth, “open.”

she pumps her ring and middle finger in and out. being all soaked in your drool making it wet enough to fit in your pussy. the sounds of your whimpers made her go crazy. you shut your eyes feeling abby’s cold, drenched fingers sliding inside.

your body shuttered, “s-shit baby..”

the sounds of your wet pussy is practically making abby drool.

“feels so fuckin’ good, keep going,” you ordered keeping a strong eye contact with the blonde, “just like that..”

“that fucking pussy,” abby whispers, you licked your lips looking down at her fat fingers going in and out, “you needy whore,” she degrades.

her words were like fire and heaven at the same time. you wouldn’t be so pissed off at her if she hadn’t let nat be all over her for three hours straight. now it’s your job to remind her whose pussy she can fuck. and the only one.

you let out an airy laugh, “i’m the whore hm? atleast i wasn’t flirting with another bitch,” she looks up at your face. you were trying to keep your composure while being mercilessly fucked.

you sat yourself up with elbows on the mattress, “you proud of yourself huh?” just inches away from her stupid smirk.

“faster,” you demanded.

she curled her fingers inside of you, hitting your g spot like a pro. you can help but let out a moan and rocked your hips in rhythm. that smirk of hets turned to an amazed expression once she hears your juices sloshing around.

“fuck baby,” abby was practically drenched under her pjs wanting to taste you, “p-please need to taste you.”

“nuh uh, you’re being mean all day. you don’t, f-fuck, deserve me.”

abby was desperate just by hearing you speak like this. you’re such an angel around her normally, like when she first met you, you were different than the other girls she had met before. she fell for you. but damn that mouth of yours was killer in bed.

the rare times you controlled her was only when you were pissed off at your girlfriend for the amount of disrespectful flirting that was happening in front of you, or not giving you updates on what she’s doing with her girl friends. however, you can’t blame yourself for having mixed trust issues knowing how many girlfriends abby has had.

maybe you’ve been too patient with her? letting shit go so easily?

“shit- c’mere” you groaned and kissed her viciously at the thought of her fucking another girl. one hand around her neck while the other grips her loose hair.

“mmm, keep going..” you moaned in her mouth.

abby rubs your clit, feeling your juices squirting all over her thighs, “p-please baby.. lemme clean you up” she begs to lick your folds but you resisted.

you slapped her cheek, her needy face turning red.

“shut up,” you growled, “better stop messing around.. i deserve fuckin’ better.”

abby whimpers, putting her head back in frustration. she then looks down to see you, a dripping pussy drunk mess. her fingers were sticky and all tired. however, she’s not stopping until she screams your name.

“atleast say my name when you cum,” she pleaded, “please.”

her voice made you feel every type of way. your thighs starting to heat up, a familiar feeling as you have had fucked yourself with the thought of her in the past. pounding noises as you thrust your hips on to her fingers harder puts many heated scenes in your head.

“abby.. oh my god- m’ fucking cumming..”

“that’s my girl, ride daddy’s dick,” she encourages you.

an orgasm was washing over you, “abby you’re mine. fuck- ah-“ you burried your face in the crooks of her neck.

“all yours baby, i’m sorry.” she kissed all over your shoulder, genuinely feeling bad that she didn’t give you the reassurance you wanted earlier.

“abs- fuckfuckfuck,” you screamed out, screaming her name loud enough the apartment below could hear you, “i hate you so much..”

“i love you princess.. love it when i make you cum..” she admits. your legs shaking like crazy, feeling overstimulated.

you know how that goes..

once you orgasmed, you let abby suck her fingers, tasting every bit of yourself. and just like that, you were laying down with a fast pounding in your chest. she caresses your stomach and kissed all over your body, still needing to feel you more. but knew you needed her the most.

“hey, you okay?” she asked softly, looking at your sleepy eyes. she just wanted the both of you to be good. “i’m fine.. just a little tired. i feel like you don’t know how badly it hurts me to see you purposely being all over people like that.”

abby sighs, knowing she fucked up. she didn’t want to be that person anymore. she loved you, really, but her actions just aren’t the thinkable. you both sleep skin to skin while she stays up to watch you fall deep in your sleep.

“i love you, angel.” she whispers. feeling all the guilt in her chest, your girlfriend pulls you in closer.

of course, she had to make it up to you the next day so she cancelled all plans. it’s not like she got up in time anyway.

well now you both know she won’t ever be doing that shit again.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

[scarlethexelove]

Little Devil

Pairing: Angel!Wanda Maximoff x Demon!Reader

Word Count: 2835

Warnings: A little bit of angry Wanda, Blood, Split eyebrow, Start of a bar fight, Cute date, Unexpected cumming, Not really much.

Pt 1, Pt 2

A/n: I need to give the biggest thanks and a whole like of credit to @wandamaximoffsbadgirl She was a major collaborator on this fic. Pretty much writing half of it with me. This is the prequal to Roles Reversed. I have for so long wanted to write more in this AU and with Ley's help I was able to fill in the parts I was struggling with. I definitely have many more thoughts to this AU and hope so share more soon. This is how the two cuties met.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The night is like any other, the bar is bustling with regulars and a ton of new faces. You own the best bar in town so it's nothing new, but you love it. The interaction with people and getting to do something you love. Wanda walks past the bustling bar but stops in her tracks when she senses that tell tale sign of a demon. What could they be getting up to in such a busy place? She has a bad feeling about this. Rage takes over as she makes haste into the bar.

You're laughing behind the bar with some of the regulars, leaning forward as you laugh at some stupid joke one of them told. You see the door open, rather than hear it, as a beautiful woman walks through. “Hey! Welcome to my bar! What can I start you with?” You call out over the voice and music. Wanda studies you, you seem too nice to be such a wretched demon. She doesn't answer which has you raising your eyebrow. “Whenever you figure out what you want just give me a holler.” You sling your bar rag over your shoulder and get back to some other patrons. Wanda takes a seat at the end of the bar and studies you. Her senses only point you out, but how is she supposed to confront you in front of all these people?

You feel Wanda’s eyes on you and try to ignore it as you get back into your rhythm. Moving around the bar and eventually when she doesn't order anything you set a water in front of her, leaning on the bar. “So what's brought you into my little hole in the wall?” You question the beautiful woman in front of you. She eyes the drink with skepticism and looks back up at you. “Seemed like a busy place.” Was all she said. You feel the hostility and anger pouring off of her. So you just give her a smile and a nod. 

As you notice you're running low on ice you let the other bartender know you're heading to the back to get more. Wanda takes this opportunity to follow you. You didn't notice her following you until you've been pushed into a supply closet. Her arm is pressed against your neck as she pins you against a wall. Her foot kicked the door closed behind her. “What do you think you're doing?” She seethes. You're confused until you catch out of the corner of your eye your tail nervously flicking back and forth. That is when it clicks, she's an angel.

You try to get out of her hold. Are all angels this strong or have you just grown weak? You finally decide it's no use and instead put a hand over hers. “Please calm down and I can explain.” You use your power of taking anger to calm her down. As she became calmer her grip loosened on you until you were able to lower her arm. “Listen, I came here to have a good time. I just want to run my bar and keep out of trouble.” You tried to explain and though her hand didn't come back up again you saw it in her eyes, untrustworthy. “Why should I believe in a demon like you?” She seethes. You raise your hands in surrender.  “Look, you can stick around and watch me if you like, but I have work to do.” You gently squeeze by her to not anger her more. You get the ice and head back to what you were doing. You feel her eyes following you all night. 

“Dude what the fuck!” You hear screaming as a fight breaks out. You quickly jump over the bar and make your way to the fight before it escalates to an all out brawl. You take a punch to the face, splitting your eyebrow, but you get your hands on them and take their anger and de-escalating the situation. “Break it up boys. If you wanna fight, it won't be in my bar.” Wanda almost jumps up as she watches the blood run down and into your eye, forcing you to close it. She grips tightly onto the bar as she fights her body on running to you. Once the two guys apologize and everything settles you head to your office with the rag over the wound, holding it. 

Wanda once again slips past and follows behind you. As you sit down in your chair she stands in the doorway. You look up at her from your seat. “Yes?” She rolls her eyes at how you fail to even help yourself. “Let me.” She takes the rag and forces your face up so that she can clean you up.

It's silent as she patches you up. “That was stupid of you.” You look at her bewildered. “Was I supposed to let an all out brawl happen?” Wanda huffs a little knowing you're right. “No, but you didn't have to take the punch…” She holds onto your face after patching you up. Looking over your features for a moment longer before you ask. “Do you wanna go out sometime?” It spills out of your mouth before you can stop it. 

Fear crosses your face as you realize what you said. You had never been so close to an angel. You had heard of their beauty but she was far more beautiful than you had ever expected. “You don't even know my name sweetheart.” Wanda pats your cheek and walks away with a wink. She takes her place back at the bar as you sit there dumbfounded. “Shit.” You mumble as you scramble back out to the bar.

You spend a good chunk of the evening stumbling over your words in front of her. As the night progresses and she talks with you she wonders why she was ever worried in the first place. As you stumble over yourself once more Wanda interrupts you. “Wanda.” Your brow furrows. “Huh?” You question. She chuckles at you. “Wanda. My name. You still haven't asked it.” Your face goes completely red as a smirk appears on her face. “O-oh...I'm y/n.” A chuckle rolls out of her mouth and you get butterflies at how beautiful it sounds. “I figured that out since this is ‘Y/N's bar’.” She reminds you and somehow your face turns more red.

As the night draws to a close and most people have left Wanda watches as you clean up. Her chin is  propped on her hand. “I'll pick you up at 7.” You look up from where you are cleaning. “W-what?” She chuckles. “For our date. I'll pick you up at 7.” Wanda leans over the bar and kisses your cheek before she walks out the bar. Her hips sway as your cheeks turn red and your mouth hangs open. But you recover running after her. “You don't know where I live.” You call after her. She turns around with a raised brow waiting for you to tell her. You ramble off your address for her before she walks away into the night leaving you shocked and excited.

You wake up excited and ready the moment your eyes open. As the day progresses you worry slightly which turns bigger and bigger as the time gets closer. You're all dressed up and ready as you pace back and forth. What if she was just fucking with you? What if she didn't actually want to go out with you? Wasn't she supposed to hate you? Angels and demons aren't meant to be together but what if you can. You have never been like the others, your brothers were some of the best out there but you loved humans, so maybe this would be okay.

7 rolls around and you are anxiously waiting outside for Wanda. To your surprise she pulls up in a red car. You don't know how she could look more beautiful but she does. “Wo-wow.” Was all you could stutter out.She smiles at you. “Come on get in I made reservations.” You do as told and get in. “Reservations?” You ask on the way. “Oh yeah I know the owner of this place. A really nice place and told him I needed a table tonight for a date. He happily found me a spot.” You blush realizing she had planned things out and your worries started to melt away.

When you get there your jaw drops in shock at the place. You have heard about it and how amazing the food is. You have tried to get a reservation for months and couldn't get in. Wanda sees your surprise and grabs your hand. “Come on pretty girl.” You can't help but blush as she pulls you forward. “Wanda you didn't have to.” You breathe out as she opens the door for you to head inside. “I wanted a sweetheart.” She walks to the hostess and whispers in her ear. You feel shy and awkward as you wait to be seated.

Wanda just met you yesterday and she was willing to do all this and all the nicknames and compliments had your head swimming already. Wanda is already loving how easy it is to fluster you. You aren't like any other demon she has met. So intriguing, soft, and she can tell so submissive. 

Wanda takes your hand again and leads you to your seat which is one of the best in the restaurant. She pulls out the chair for you which surprises you but you sit. She rounds the table and sits across from you. At first you're so nervous and shy but as time passes you start to loosen up. A very stark contrast to the person behind the bar last night. The conversations are easy and two hours doesn't feel like two hours as you finish a shared piece of cake. It's a huge serving and so sweet you almost feel it rot your teeth, but you loved it. The way her face lit up at every bite she was taking of it was worth it. You let her have the last bite as the waitress comes back with her card.

“Thank you Wanda.” Your voice is low and soft. You look down as another blush covers your face. Wanda hooks her finger under your chin to make you look at her. She has a soft smile on her face as she speaks. “You are so welcome detka. Now let's get you home.” You smile and nod. The both of you make your way out of the restaurant and Wanda drives you home. This has been one of the best nights of your life and you desperately don't want it to end.

When you get to the door of your house you chew on your lip a moment before asking. “Do you want to come in?” Wanda smiles sweetly at you. “I'd love to continue this date.” You can't help but get giddy and a little bit of a happy jump as you open the door. Wanda finds your excitement adorable as she follows you inside. Your home is very cozy, not something you would expect from a demon but it's so very you.  “This is very cute sweetheart.” You smile. “Thank you Wands.” You test the nick name a bit hesitant but when she smiles at you in approval it makes you that much more giddy.

You both get comfortable on the couch and start talking. Eventually the topic of your features comes up. “I'll show you mine if you show me yours.” Wanda says making you blush as your tail comes out, flicking back and forth slowly and your horns come out. Wanda does this, almost shake as her wings come out. Bright beautiful white looking so soft to the touch. You don't know how she keeps doing it but the more you see the more beautiful she becomes. You're hesitant to ask and you can feel your fingers twitch in a need to just feel them. She notices and smiles. “You can touch them if you like, but if you do I want to feel your horns.” Like most of the night your blush intensifies. “Deal, but uh my horns can be a bit sensitive.” You tell her.

Wanda raises an eyebrow at you. “Sensitive, hm?” She asks not giving you time to answer as her fingers brush lightly over them. You feel your body heat up, leaning into her touch as your mouth falls open, a small moan leaving your lips. Wanda bites her lip at the sound, a demon had never sounded more angelic.

Wanda is surprised by the softness of your horns. She expected them to be rough but the smoothness to them is nice as she runs her fingers up and down the ridges. As her fingers dance across them you feel your breath quicken as your chest turns the same color as your cheeks. It all feels too much but oh so good at the same time. Your mind is growing fuzzy at how good it feels. 

It had been so long since the last time you felt like this, but you knew this fuzzy headspace you were being put in. “W-Wands…” You manage out, your pleas going unheard as she carries on stroking your horns, your hot breath filling the space between you two and then it slips out. “Mommy please…” 

“Yes little devil.” Wanda hums her response but she is still so entranced by how beautiful your horns really are that she doesn't fully register the situation. And by the time she does it's too late. You let out a whimper and moan as you cum unexpectedly. Your eyes shut as your thighs tremble slightly. Wanda instinctively wraps her wings around you in a protective manner. It isn't until you feel her wings around you as you come down that it sinks in exactly what just happened. “O-oh my god.” You pull back from her. “I-I'm so sorry. Fuck.” You can't help but feel tears filling your eyes at the thought of ruining everything.

Wanda pulls you closer, her wings wrapping around you. “Shhh dorogaya you've done nothing wrong.” She soothes you by rubbing your back. You feel so warm and safe in her arms. You wonder for a moment if she could take your worries away because it certainly feels like she has. 

“I-I didn't know that would happen. It's never happened before.” You mumble against her. Wanda gently pulls you back so she can look at you, her wings still around you in a protective embrace. She cups your cheek and uses her thumb to brush away a stray tear that had fallen. “If I'm honest, I found that super hot.” You should be over her boldness by now but it still shocks you as your whole face heats up now. She can't help but chuckle at your current state. “How about we get you cleaned up and we can maybe continue this date with a movie? How does that sound?” You nod with excitement. “That sounds amazing Wands.” 

As you're about to break apart Wanda speaks up. “I loved it when you called me Mommy.” Everytime you think you're done blushing she's turning you a new shade of red. You can't even look at her as you ask. “Y-you did?” She pulls your chin back up to look at her. “Yes detka. I did.” A smile spreads across your face. Your tail flicking and hitting against her wings. 

Wanda leans in kissing you. You melt into her instantly. This must be what people mean when they say they felt fireworks. Your kiss with Wanda ignites something new within you. It's like nothing you have ever felt before. When you finally pull apart Wanda smirks at you. “Don't think I've ever made someone cum before I kissed them before.” You whine and hide your face in her neck as she chuckles, getting the two of you up and putting her wings away so as to not knock anything over as you two go to the bathroom to clean you up. Wanda is so good about it and helps get you out of the clothes you had picked out for dinner and into some comfy pajamas. You offer her some which she happily takes. 

The two of you decide to stay in your room and watch a movie on your bed. Wanda's wings coming back out and wrapping around you like a blanket. Wanda insists that your horns stay out even though you're worried about hurting her with them. She wants you to be you in your own home. No need to hide away or worry with her.  She has already made up her mind that she will protect you no matter what.

She never expected walking into that bar last night would lead to you but here you are. A demon like no other, the perfect missing piece to her puzzle.

[yvesssssssss]

HIII <333 i reallyyyy love and adore your writing! i want to request a little something something [evil face], but if you're uncomfortable w/ my req, u can skip! :D

OKAY so how about highschool nagumo got caught that his relationship with reader was just a bet? but he DID truly love her!! this could be angst-comfort but honestly i don't mind with anything. ill gladly read anything if its from you, thank youuuuu :)

Bet

Hiii! <333 That’s so sweet of you to say, thank you! I hope you like it!! I decided with angst with no comfort cuz why not:>

Part 2 part 3

You were invisible.

You knew it. Everyone did. You wore oversized sweaters, kept your head down, and always sat in the second row—not close enough to be called on, but not far enough to seem like you were trying to disappear. You spoke when spoken to. You got perfect grades. You were the type of girl people forgot existed unless they needed help with homework.

And then Nagumo happened.

He wasn’t just popular—he was magnetic. He had a lopsided smile that made teachers sigh in frustration and girls laugh a little too loudly. He wore his uniform like it was optional and carried himself like he owned the school. You had nothing in common. You didn’t even share classes—until junior year biology.

He sat next to you with a dramatic sigh and a wink. “Looks like I’m stuck with the class genius. Lucky me.”

You blinked at him like he was an illusion.

“You know my name?” you muttered.

“Of course I do,” he said, grinning. “You’re the girl who always smells like library books and mint gum.”

You nearly choked. “Excuse me?”

“I meant it in a cute way.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered, but his smile was too wide, too infectious. He was relentless, and yet there was something oddly comforting about the way he treated you like you mattered—like you weren’t just another nameless face.

It started with jokes.

You tried to push him away at first, using your textbook as a shield, but he wouldn’t let you off that easy. He’d slide into your line of sight during lectures, make dumb faces, or tap the back of your chair when he thought you weren’t looking. He’d find ways to pull you into conversations you didn’t want to be part of, laughing at your awkwardness. At first, it was annoying.

Then, it was familiar.

Then, it was comforting.

Then, you were looking forward to those stupid notes he passed you under the desk, those ridiculous doodles, the way he’d randomly show up at your locker, making small talk with that devil-may-care attitude.

"Did you actually do all the problems from last night’s homework?" he asked one afternoon, leaning way too close to your shoulder as he peered at your notes. "You’re like a robot, Y/N. It’s terrifying. It’s like you don’t even try and still get everything right."

You snorted. "It's not that hard," you mumbled, trying to pull your notebook out of his reach.

"Right, of course. Tell me, do you just think in equations, or do you have a secret lab where you build all your perfect grades?" He grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered you were.

You frowned, but his teasing smile was so easy, so effortless that you found yourself smirking back. "Maybe I do. Maybe I’m secretly a genius who doesn’t need to try to pass."

He nudged you with his elbow. "I like the sound of that."

The tension between you both started to shift. What had started as a simple back-and-forth of casual teasing turned into something more—something deeper. You told yourself it was nothing. He was just being friendly. He probably did this with every girl he found interesting.

But then, things changed.

He started walking you home. Texting you good morning, good night. He’d send you messages at random times of the day with nothing but a simple “Hey” followed by an emoji. You always felt that familiar flutter in your chest. You’d respond, your fingers trembling slightly, heart pounding a little faster than normal. And sometimes, in those quiet moments, you’d let your guard down. You started sharing things with him—things you hadn’t told anyone. How your parents expected too much from you. How the pressure to be perfect all the time was suffocating. How you didn’t know who you were anymore, buried under the weight of everyone else’s expectations.

He listened. He never interrupted.

"Maybe that's why you always smell like mint gum," he said one night, after listening to you vent about your fears. "You're fresh. New. You hold everything together, even when you feel like you're falling apart."

You laughed a little. “Maybe you should get a mint or two, then. You could use it.”

His smile softened, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes—something real. "I guess I just get lucky."

Then, one day, you kissed him.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t anything except the way you’d both ended up in the art room after hours, the walls around you splattered with bright colors and forgotten projects. You didn’t know why you did it—why you let your lips brush against his, why you let your hand trail up to the back of his neck as he responded, slow and tentative at first, like he couldn’t quite believe it either.

But then it deepened. He pulled you closer, his body heat radiating into yours, and it was perfect. His touch was tender, but the kiss was passionate—like everything he’d been holding back was unleashed in that moment.

“I like this,” you whispered, forehead pressed to his. “Being with you. It’s like… like we’re in our own little world.”

He smiled softly, his hands framing your face. “Yeah. Just you and me.”

You believed it. For a while, that was all that mattered. You weren’t invisible anymore. He made sure of that.

But life has a way of shattering illusions.

One day, you were walking past the gym, earbuds in, when you heard voices. Familiar voices.

“Bro, she actually fell for you?”

You froze, your feet glued to the ground. Your heart stopped.

“You owe me that lunch money. That’s a win.”

“Wait, what?” your voice caught in your throat. “Lunch money?”

“Yeah, I bet you could get her to fall for you in a week,” one of his friends laughed. “And guess what? You did.”

Your heart dropped, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

“How long did it take again?” The other voice chimed in.

“A week,” Nagumo said, laughter in his voice. “She practically did all the work for me.”

No. No, no, no. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

His next words echoed like a sick joke in your ears.

“But she’s not so bad, y’know? I mean, for a nerd, she’s kinda cute when she gets all serious. Almost makes me feel guilty.”

“Almost?” someone snorted.

And then there it was again. His laugh. The sound of him enjoying the joke at your expense.

Your vision blurred, the hot sting of tears threatening to spill over. But you didn’t let them fall—not yet. Not until you were far enough away from him that he wouldn’t see.

That’s when you realized.

You had been a bet. A joke. An easy target. You had trusted him. And he had turned it into something so, so easy to destroy.

You didn’t go to class after that. You didn’t even go home. You just walked. And walked. The cold air bit at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the numbness settling in your chest.

The tears came, then. Quiet at first, just little cracks in the dam you’d tried to build. But soon, they were all-consuming. You couldn’t stop them. They burned your throat. They suffocated you.

The worst part wasn’t the betrayal. It was that you still loved him. You still wanted him to apologize. You wanted him to take it all back, to pull you into his arms and promise that it had all been a misunderstanding.

But it wasn’t.

When he found you, hours later, you were still wearing his hoodie—the one he had given you that day, in the hallway, when he had made you believe you meant something to him.

“Y/N—hey, what’s wrong? You weren’t answering your—”

You turned to him slowly, your face a mask of hurt and anger.

“Was it fun?” you whispered, voice cracking.

He blinked, stepping forward. “What?”

“Playing with me.”

He froze. His breath hitched. “What? No, I—”

“You said it took a week,” you said quietly, almost too quietly, your voice trembling. “You made me fall for you in a week. Congratulations.”

His eyes widened. “No, no, Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that. It started out as a joke, but I swear it turned into something real. It was real—I was real. Please—”

“You should’ve never touched me,” you said, your voice cold now, sharper than a knife.

He reached for you, his hand shaking. “Please… just let me explain—”

You flinched back, your breath coming fast as your chest tightened. “No. You don’t get to explain anymore. I was nothing to you, but you were everything to me.”

You yanked off his hoodie and shoved it into his chest, the fabric of it like sandpaper against your palms. The weight of the betrayal pressed down on you, suffocating.

And then you walked away.

This time, he didn’t follow you. He didn’t call out your name.

Because this time, it was too late.

And maybe that was the real lesson.

[impval]

nervous

Victoria Neuman x fem! reader warnings: mentions of stalking, mentions of blood, illness (cold), stupid jokes, reader (and Vicky) is useless sapphics.

Victoria doesn’t like how nervous she feels around you.

Logically, it makes no sense for her to feel this way, for her heart to flutter whenever she catches your smile. You're just a ordinary woman who she met through a mutual friend - nothing more, nothing less. Maybe it's the fact that you're different from everyone else in her life, all the political snakes and heroes she deals with on a daily basis.

She's always had a soft spot for people like you, those who are slightly weird, but also smart. When you talk, your words flow like a river, and your eyes light up with an intense enthusiasm that is so endearing.

When you first met, Victoria was expecting the usual reaction from you, the typical swooning at her status, her money, her beauty. But no, you remained completely unfazed by it all. You just spent hours talking about Sylvanas Windrunnner of all topics, passionately discussing the portrayal of women in media. And it wasn't even a deliberate attempt on your part. To you, she was just a woman who had opinions on a game. A woman you could nerd-out with.

Her daughter approval was a significant factor. You didn't try to impress her, didn't talk down to her or make false promises. It wasn't some strategic move to win points with Victoria. You weren't trying to impress or manipulate anyone. You just treated Zoe like any other person - sincerely.

Zoe appreciated that. She was used to the fake smiles and the veiled attempts to get close to her mother through her. She is a smart kid, sharp and more mature than many kids her age. She is also cautious and wary of adults, a effect of her mother's fame and her own intelligence. But she seemed to... tolerate you.

Those casual meetings in a café, the occasional lunch visits, the funny memes shared back and forth. The way you looked at Zoe's homework with a mix of horror and awe, knowing that she was already taking advanced classes and soaking up knowledge far beyond her years.

The way the corners of your mouth would twitch up into a smile or down into a pout as you spoke passionately about something that fascinated you. Victoria could feel her heart skip a beat every time, but she convinced herself it was just the alcohol, just exhaustion, just something that was causing the flutter in her chest.

She found comfort in this little bubble of normalcy, in the charade where she wasn't the politician, the Head-Popper or Nadia. Just Victoria and you, no other bullshit attached.

And then Hughie Campbell ruined everything.

Victoria knew he had been your friend, after all, it was thanks to him that you and her had even met. She believed that he had left your life behind when he started running with The Boys. That your friendship would have faded into the past, like a distant memory.

Oh, she knew that Hughie and the Boys had finally figured out her true identity. It was only a matter of time, really, but she hadn't expected it to be this way.

But the silence from you... that, she hadn't expected. At first, Victoria didn't notice, as she was preoccupied with Homelander's bullshit and the pressures of politics.

Victoria couldn't help but know details about you, your routine, where you lived, who are your colleagues, your family, your friends. She told herself it was just a product of her paranoia, that she needed to make sure you were safe and unharmed, but deep down she knew it was more than just that.

It might have bordered on a bit too much knowledge for a regular friend to have, but Victoria couldn't help but want to keep tabs.

It was far from a coincidence that you suddenly fell ill just a couple of days after Hughie stumbled upon the truth about Victoria's secret. Your colleagues and boss mentioned that you were unwell, that you had taken work home. But Victoria knew better. You rarely got sick, and if you ever did, you never failed to keep in touch. Yet, since then, you had barely sent a text or even responded.

Anxiety, horror, nerves, fear - coursed through her veins like a toxic poison. You'd been quiet for days, she knew why - she understood why. That just didn’t make it hurt any less.

The secrets, the past, all the blood on her hands. It was laid bare, exposed for you to see in all its bloody and monstrous glory. Was this the end? Did you despise her now?

Maybe you were even packing your bags at that very moment, ready to flee from Victoria's presence, putting as much distance between yourself and her as possible.

Knock-knock.

Victoria tried to act as if she didn't notice the way your eyes widened in surprise, she tried to act as if her heart wasn't trying to escape her chest and her breath wasn't being caught in her throat. She tried to act as if she didn't realize how nervous she felt either.

For a moment, she just stood there, watching you, before she remembered herself and smiled slightly “Can I come in?”

You look genuinely unwell - pale skin, parched lips. You hadn't even cared to dry your hair properly after a shower, and your T-shirt still had remnants of dampness from the water. Oddly enough, you don't seem afraid. No fear etched into the lines of your face.

You just...smile. Softly, awkwardly, a pale shadow of your usual cheerful self.

"Sure. Come in."

Victoria had been there many times before - in better circumstances, of course.

Your apartment was always messy and chaotic like that, it was your way of being. There was a certain level of warmth and comfort in the chaos.

She looked around, taking in the current mess before turning to look at you again. Her smile faltered as she took in your pale skin. You looked like you hadn't slept for days, and judging by the pizza box, you clearly hadn't eaten properly either.

Usually, you would offer a warm cup of tea when Victoria visited, but today, you seem too exhausted, both physically and mentally. Instead, you let yourself collapse onto the couch.

She follows you to the living room and sits down in the armchair, facing you in the couch. She crosses her legs, pretending she's totally calm and relaxed, but she's not, she's dying to know what's going through your head. She wonders if you suspect anything, if Hughie told you anything.

"No offense, but you look like crap," she tried to make the comment sound casual and sarcastic, like usual, but it came out more concerned and worried than anything else, and she hated it. She didn't want to show how concerned she was.

What if you hate her? The thought makes her heart ache, but she tries to keep her face neutral. Victoria hates being like this. She always knows what to say, what to do, how to behave. She always knows how to be in control.

But now she feels so damn lost.

"You are as charming as always, Vicky," you laugh lightly, a small, quiet sound that fills the room.

Victoria's heart skips a beat at that little sound you make. It was such a familiar laugh, it was your laugh. She could be in a crowded room and still pick out your laugh in a heartbeat.

She inhales deeply, and there it is again - your familiar scent, now tinged with the unmistakable aroma of medicine. You smell of the shampoo she gave you, the same one she bought specifically because she saw you eyeing it in a store once.

As she looked around the living room, Victoria could see bits and pieces of her everywhere. A cup from the mug she got you two Christmases ago, the blanket from last year's birthday.

The memory hits her - the way you held that Sylvanas Windrunner figurine, the pure delight on your face, how you had thanked her over and over again. The ugly, disgustingly pink slippers she gave you as a joke. Each gift holds its own memory - laughter, gratitude... love.

Those pink damn slippers were stupid. They should have been the first thing you threw away after finding out the truth about her.

"But I'm fine. The cold is almost gone, I feel much better than I look."

"Bullshit," Victoria says immediately, a little sharp.

Her heart is almost beating out of her chest. She's dying to ask you if you know. If you've found out the truth. She even opens her mouth, almost asking, but closes it at the last moment.

"Why did you ignore my texts?" She asks instead, trying to keep her voice steady.

A beat of silence passes between two of you, and in that moment, everything becomes so clear.

Silence is not your thing; you thrive on noise, on conversations, on laughter and music. Your words always flow freely, unfiltered, and yet right now, you're silent, thinking, contemplating how to frame the next words.

You know who she really is. She's exposed, vulnerable, naked before you. What are you going to say? Are you afraid of her now? She's the Head Popper, after all. Or maybe you feel betrayed? Deceived?

Victoria clenched her jaw, hating how her mind started to consider the option of eliminating you. This was the way she had been trained, conditioned to think by Stan. She can almost hear his voice in her head, as clear as if he were sitting next to her. Your safety is priority. Eliminate every source of danger. Never leave a risk.

"Well, I was very unwell the entire time. I suppose work got to me. Fucking reports," you rubbed your temples, even now cursing at the endless paperwork. "And then Hughie with his british boyfriend unloaded a bomb on me."

Yep, you said this.

Honestly, you were freaking out at this plot twist. You love Victoria, both as a person and as a friend (and maybe a little more, but you try to ignore that part). When Hughie told you his story, it sounded so unreal.

But then he brought proof - a folder bursting with photos and even videos on disks, like some kind of old-school spy movie. Who even uses disks anymore?

You spent every waking hour staring at the blood-stained pictures and text in the folder, the horrific details of what her past and present. Your tea intake had reached a record-breaking level, and if your illness hadn't been holding you back, you probably would have drowned yourself in alcohol.

Conflict warred within you. Anger for the things Victoria had done and for the fact that she’d kept it hidden. Confusion over how to feel about all of it. But most importantly, the pain of being deceived by someone you held so close. You trusted Victoria, saw her as the most important person in your life.

But at the same time - how would she have even told me?

The enormity of her secret, the danger it posed, it was a crushing burden. You knew deep down she couldn’t have told you. She probably didn’t know how to.

You vividly remembered the day of the court, how your heart was in your throat as you watched the live broadcast at home. You recall the day clear enough. Wanting to be there to support her...only for her to gently persuade you to stay home. You gave in, thanks to a simple kiss on the cheek that had your brain short-circuiting.

During the broadcast, you found yourself praying to any and every deity, even though faith had never been a part of your life. You prayed for her survival, to see her again.

You thought that Victoria slept so much after the court because of PTSD, but fuck, she likely needed all that sleep to recover from the effort of exploding a whole shitload of heads.

A cruel, bitter joke indeed.

The memory replays in your mind, and suddenly you remember something - something that was so insignificant at the time, but now takes on a whole new level of significance.

You recall the time you was at her office, and you noticed a smudge of blood on her clothes. You remember the unease, the concern, how she’d made you think it was just a small, unimportant thing. And at the time, it had been easy to let it go, to trust her. But now?

And how carefully, casually, Victoria probed you about your thoughts on super-powered humans. Unlike others, you don’t idolize them as infallible heroes or hate them as dangerous threats. After all, they were all just people. It was only after that conversation, it seemed, that she opened up more, allowed you glimpses behind her masks.

As you look at Victoria, it's like seeing her for the first time. All the little quirks, her tells, everything about the person you've come to know so well...unmasked.

She's wearing the dark red suit (blood, your mind whispers), the one she usually chooses for tough debates. Another armor. A defense.

But you know her much better now, past her careful masks and smiles. You recognize the tension in her jaw, the dark flicker in her eyes. She's preparing for the worst.

"What bomb?" She asked despite knowing the answer.

The small smile you offer is careful. You raise your eyebrows and gesture towards the pile of papers on the table by the sofa, the folder among them, buried in notes and drawings.

"I think Victoria fits you better," you remark, voice soft. "But you know, Nadia sounds beautiful too."

Hearing you speak her real name sends a shiver down her spine. No one had called her that in years, and from your lips, it sounded too intimate, too personal.

It's all there, the documents, the evidence, the photos. Things that should never have seen by anyone, much less by you.

"I prefer Vicky," she says carefully, but when she looks at you, she doesn't see fear or anger. You just seem tired. “You've read all that?”

Death, blood, shattered lives - you used to think red suited her, but you hadn't comprehended just how much.

"Of course. When have I ever left anything unfinished?" you murmurs, with just a hint of irony in the voice.

She doesn't know if she should be amused or offended by your comment.

On one hand, it's a normal reaction from you, sarcastic and cheeky. The same person she got to know during all those days and nights spent together in each other's company. On the other hand, you're talking about her greatest secret like you're talking about a crime book.

"And?" She asked quietly, hating how nervous she feels.

She's acting almost as awkward as that time she got soo drunk and you stayed up all night holding a bucket next to her, so she didn't puke all over the carpet. Now that you think about it, she's downed a lot more alcohol than a human ever could. The memory bubbles up, almost making you want to laugh.

You reach up to rub at your throat, grimacing slightly at the lingering soreness. Your cough hasn't quite gone away yet, and you pick up a bottle of water from the table, taking a few gulps to soothe the ache.

You place the bottle back down next to you and your tone is calm and measured as you speak.

"I've got exactly two questions," you state, eyes fixed on her.

Her fingers dig into the fabric of her pants, knuckles turning white. How can you be so calm, so matter-of-fact? She wants to snap, yell, scream at you, for how can you look normal after everything?

"Ask."

Another fact about you that's worth mentioning: you're a fucking clown. If Victoria ever dragged you to any important event, you would have been easily mistaken for a court jester or shot down as a threat to the sanity of every politician there. It's how you cope with the cruel world of capitalism and heroes, after all - if you can't laugh, you'd probably cry.

"So you felt it every time I had a period?"

What the fu-

She can practically feel a vein in her temple ticking in annoyance. You know her secret and this is what you're asking her?

Typical you, to focus on something as unimportant as this.

"What do you think?" she replied bluntly, her shoulders relax.

Somehow, the tension in the air has lessened. The conversation has fallen into more familiar territory, much like a well-practiced dance. You and Victoria have often discussed the powers of various supers, real or fictional, and now is no different.

Blood manipulation. You can't help but admit that exploding heads is a impressive move, yet horrifying all the same. It was a dramatic and effective ability, perfectly fitting for Victoria, the woman who always loved a good show.

The file had mentioned that she used to struggle with controlling it, but clearly, she'd mastered it now. It fit her personality perfectly: she always needed to be in control, no matter what.

"I think you can feel everything around you," you say, your voice quiet but sure. "You can hear the beating of hearts, can't you? That's why you always know when someone is lying. But for details, you need to concentrate."

You had always been good at puzzles, connecting the dots, thinking. That's why she love you.

You're surprisingly spot on in your assumptions. Victoria can feel blood, she's always felt it, even if she hasn't always been able to control it. She felt your periods. She's felt your heart rate changing in times of excitement or fear.

But what surprises her is not the fact that you've figured that out, but the fact that you aren't afraid of her even knowing all of this.

"Sometimes I try not to pay attention to much," she confessed, her voice almost a whisper, like she's sharing a secret. "It's... overwhelming."

Oh, Vicky.

Your eyes soften, a gentle understanding. All this time, this power of hers, and you hadn't noticed. Or maybe she just never let you see this side of her, this hidden weakness. Something inside you aches.

Victoria used to think you were simple, naive. You wore your heart on your sleeve, you trusted everyone too easily. She didn't see it, didn't realize that deep down, beneath that all, there was a sharp mind, capable of seeing through all her bullshit facade. Now she sees it especially clearly.

"Second question." She demands, her voice almost a whisper.

Vicky, Vicky, Vicky.

You should be afraid. After everything, the lies, the manipulation, the hidden life...you should fear her.

But you can't.

She's woven into the fabric of your life, tangled up in a web of memories, gifts, and shared moments. She's the one who showers you with gifts just because she thought of you, the one who patiently listens to your theories and debates.

Vicky, Vicky, always Vicky.

Your lip quirks slightly, a soft smile touching the corners of your mouth. You feel like you see her better now, more than ever before.

And so, your second and final question rolls off your tongue, quiet and calm. "Will you kill me?"

Victoria's heart practically stops at your question.

She was prepared for anger, sadness, disappointment. But this? Not in a million years.

"You..." Her voice is choked, a thousand thoughts swirling in her head. She looks at you, searching for something, anything in your eyes, that you're not serious.

But, ironically, this is possibly the most serious you've ever been.

"Well?" you continue. "Don't deny it. We both know you're paranoid and I know too much now. It would be logical for you. So answer the question. Will you kill me?"

Logical is exactly the kind of word that Stan had used to describe Victoria. It's who she is. So yes. This is exactly what she would have done a long time ago. Of course you think she would kill you. She should. You know too much.

But you're you, with your soft smiles and endless patience, stupid curiosity and unwavering loyalty. Despite everything, she loves you.

How can she kill the one person she loves?

Finally, in a low, strangled tone she answers.

"No, I won't kill you."

Wow, you must be utterly and hopelessly in love with her, considering how willing you are to accept death at her hands. A sick, twisted kind of humor bubbles up in your mind as you muse to yourself that it's nice that Victoria won't be exploding your head anytime soon.

Your shoulders sag a little. Okay.

Your entire body aches and throbs from the sickness that's kept you in your apartment for the past week.

And the fucking folder has only made the simple cold worse. Right now, all you want to do is disappear under the covers, crawl into the warm darkness, and shut out the world.

You gesture to the papers on the table, your voice tired but steady. "I need some time," you say, a hint of hurt underlying your words. "Will you take the folder with you when you leave? I don't want it here."

Victoria drops her gaze, averting it to look at the table, the stack of papers, the folder that started this whole mess. She feels an irrational urge to throw it all out, to burn it, and she will. Later.

Part of her is too wary to say something she'll regret, and the other... she's just too cowardly. Victoria nods slowly, standing up to grab the folder.

So all she does is watch you a moment longer, the folder clenched tightly in her hands, before walking out the door.

Time drags out slowly. Never before has a month felt so long and painful. Even during your worst fights, both of you would still text each other, however small the dialogue might be.

But now, you don't call. You don't text. You don't even send her memes filled with passive aggressive hints of your anger.

Every time her phone vibrates, her heart skips a beat in foolish hope. She almost feels like a teenager with a crush, looking at the screen eagerly, only to be disappointed every single time.

You had asked for time, and Victoria knows she should honor that.

However, you've been kept under close watch. She's not worried that you'll reveal her secret, no - that option was clearly not even in the cards. The surveillance now, the protective measures, it's not to keep an eye on you. It's for your safety. To make sure you're okay and not in any possible danger. You were right when you called her paranoid.

Her daughter starts to notice. Even she's beginning to look at Victoria differently. It's no secret that you usually spend plenty of time visiting, but it's been a whole damn month since you've vanished.

Zoe isn't your biggest fan, but she can see how much it hurts Victoria not to have you around.

"Mom, did you screw something up?"

"Language."

Victoria practically jumps when she receives a text message, inviting her to meet in a local cafe. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a simple request for cocoa and conversation.

That day, you both chat about nothing and everything, carefully avoiding the painful subject that weighs heavily on both of you. It's not much, but it's a start. A fragile first step.

When she sees the vampire memes you've sent, a wave of relief washes over her face. Victoria breaks out into loud, relieved laughter, startling her colleagues with the unexpected outburst.

She almost feels like she's back in your apartment again, sprawled on the couch, arguing about which anime to watch, or which one of the characters you're obsessed with is the most attractive.

You're insufferable, just as Victoria had expected from you. You torture her with a nonstop fload of puns, innuendoes, jokes, and memes all related to blood. Even Zoe joins, to Victoria's combined amusement and horror.

Victoria endures through Zoe's torturous plan to force her to watch the Twilight, making it her own personal mission to survive the whole series without jumping out of the nearest window.

You'll find out that Victoria has genuinely been trying to ignore the rhythm of your heartbeat since your friendship became genuine. But, before that, yeah, she used to monitor your heartbeat all the damn time.

When she casually mentioned it, you damn near choked on your tea. How in the world could Victoria, the most intelligent woman you knew, not recognize that you were madly in love with her all this time, even with super-duper powers?

After clearing your throat (with a bit of help from Victoria's powers), you laughed until your ribs hurt. Then you granted her permission to listen to your heartbeat whenever she wanted.

One day, while enjoying a casual lunch together, she asks you why you haven't run away to some sunny spot in Spain. After all, she has killed people, and it's not something that's likely to change. You rolled your eyes so hard it genuinely hurt. Seriously, your favorite characters are female war criminals for whom committing murder is just as natural as blinking.

Jokes on you, Vicky, I'm into that shit.

Of course you didn't say that. You're not ready to come out (ha!) of the illusion of friends yet.

You didn't have a damn clue how messed up the world truly is. Of course, you knew it was a cruel, cruel place, you're not naive. But, fuck, it's worse than you could have ever imagined.

And Victoria, she knows this better than anyone. She can now share her own personal horror story, revealing the truth about Vought, her father, the sadistic experiments, and her genuine desire to change the world for the better.

Things are strangely different now, better now that there are no more secrets. She finds herself hyper-aware of your heartbeat, your eyes on her, the way you move, the sound of your voice. It's like she's suddenly woken up to a new reality, where the line between friends and something more is slowly starting to blur.

And just when things were finally beginning to settle back into a shaky sense of normalcy, that fucking Hughie had to show up again.

hey, herm o. globin

you know who and his british boyfriend were at my house again

im fine btw

Victoria doesn't even bat an eye at the stupid pun, her mind immediately focusing in on the second part.

Hughie and Butcher was in your house again. Again. And somehow, her security had missed their presence. She clenches her jaw at the thought. How incompetent can they be? Stupid amateurs.

But she'll deal with them later. Victoria rearranges her schedule, sends a text ordering you to stay home, and quickly hops into her car, driving over to your place.

Victoria arrives at your apartment in record time. She can feel the tension coiling inside her, the need to make sure you're safe, to see you with her own eyes. Without even a knock, she pushes the door open and steps inside.

You're predictably sitting in the kitchen, calmly sipping away at a cup of tea. There's not a single bruise or scratch on you, no sign of fear or distress etched on your face. It's as if you didn't have two wanted terrorists in your damn house.

You glance up at the clock on the wall, "Wow, ten minutes. You won't get any fines?"

Victoria is not amused. Your humor would have usually been endearing, but right now it's just fueling her anger. She steps closer, her voice strained from the effort to keep her temper in check.

"You had Hughie and Butcher in your house, and you didn't think to call me?"

You set down your cup on the table with a weary sigh. Of course, you weren't particularly thrilled about the surprise visit, but there was no point in stressing about it now that they were gone.

"I was too busy trying to decipher british accent." Yikes, more jokes. "They were just trying to figure out why I was still hanging out with you. You know, after I discovered your secret."

Victoria's hands curl into fists, her patience with your humor wearing thinner and thinner with each passing second. Victoria doesn't even understand why her anger is slipping out of control. Perhaps it's because you were in danger. Or maybe it's because she's still at risk of losing you.

"And what exactly did you tell them?"

You can't help but flinch ever so slightly at the question. Damn it, you suck at hiding your expressions, even when you really want to. Victoria's eyes flick down to the slight flinch that you tried to hide, her shoulders tensing at the sight.

Oh, Hughie, always trying to be gentle. He attempted to appeal to your sense of morality, your humanity. It's unfortunate that he doesn't grasp how deeply, how foolishly in love you are with Victoria.

It's a shame, really, since he's known you practically since school days, he of all people should have understood. When it came to the people you cared about, your moral principles usually went on vacation.

But, like what fuck, Butcher understood.

There's something about him, something rotten and dark, that sets off alarms in your head. This man is dangerous, like a ticking time bomb waiting to burst. And when he explodes - because sooner or later, he will - he'll take a hell of a lot of people down with him. 

Amor caecus. That's all he said and led Hughie out.

You swallow, forcing down the memory and pushing it to the back of your mind. Are you really that blind?

"I told them to go suck Homelander's dick," you manage to say, and even to your own ears, your words sound pathetically weak.

Victoria almost lets out a bitter laugh at your response. Trust you and your blunt, unapologetic attitude. But the way your voice falters when you speak, tells her everything she needs to know. There's something you're not telling her, something that clearly shook you.

"Is that all?" She asks, her tone firm. "Or is there something else they said that's got you rattled?"

Fuck.

It's a harsh reminder of the tension between you when you discovered the truth about her and how uncomfortable things had become.

You stand up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor with a sickening screech. Nope, you're not ready to confess your love to your friend right now.

That instinct to flee, to hide, an almost primal urge to run away...it influences your choices. How many times could you have confessed your feelings to Victoria? You're not stupid. And she's not stupid either. What's between you is not friendship, not really.

You're just afraid.

You try to walk past her, insisting, "That's all, Victoria. I didn't tell them anything else."

Victoria despises the way your blood sings with anxiety, fear, and fatigue that has seeped into your very bones. Victoria reaches out on instinct, preventing you from walking any farther, her grip tight around your wrist. She's not letting you run away, not this time.

There were so many words on the tip of her tongue, so many things she wanted to say. Like ‘Do you know what you’re doing to me?’ or ‘I think I love you.'

"Stop," she commands, her voice betraying a hint of desperation. "I know you're hiding something, dammit. I can feel it. Please, just tell me."

It's ironic, really, for her to expect such openness and trust from you when she kept an entire box of sketches from you for so long. But when she turns those big, sad eyes on you, silently pleading for trust... love truly is blind, isn't it?

You're weary and exhausted. You want it all to go back to the days when you were still oblivious, when she was simply Vicky, your ambitious friend who could down a shot of tequila without a second thought and feel fantastic.

Life was simpler then, and it was easier to suppress your longing, to resist the urge to touch her in ways that friends shouldn't.

You're just so damn tired. Maybe it's time to stop being a cliché, a useless sapphic who fell in love with her not-so-straight friend.

"Just promise you won't blow my damn head off?"

Please, just promise me that everything will be alright. That nothing will change between us.

You don't give her a chance to respond, quickly pulling her close and crashing your lips against hers.

Victoria freezes for a moment, her mind struggling to catch up with what's happening.

Oh.

Oh.

Friends my ass.

But then her body responds, her arms wrapping around you before she even realizes it. She's kissing you back, her lips moving urgently against yours, years of pent-up yearning and love, fear and desire, finally finding a way out.

When you break away, both of you gasping for breath, Victoria meets your eyes.

You're fully aware of the path you're heading down. Love may be blind, but you're perfectly aware of her paranoid nature, the blood staining her hands up to her elbows. She's a monster, there's no denying it, and you just offered yourself up to her on a goddamn silver platter.

There's no turning back now, but even if there was, you wouldn't change a damn thing.

[jpnriikicore]

── so american

paring ollie bearman x american!reader, word count 372, genre fluff, ( masterlist )

him mumbling the little words he knows as he is still in the process of learning the language to an italian song. claiming he would be a singer if he is fluent in italian. your shoulders shook with laughter. your nose scrunched up as an american smile lit up my features similar to the smile you gave him right before he tried tennessee whiskey for the first time despite not being the legal age. the first time he called you so american.

your sock-cladded feet rested against the dashboard. the windshield wipers going back and forth, back and forth like clockwork as the rain pelted down from the gray sky.

"you look pretty."

he spoke, glancing over towards you briefly. you're wearing a light blue sweater that you borrowed from his side of the shared closet.

your favorite bruce springsteen track from the album born in the u.s.a admitted from the car’s speakers. he purposely saved that song to his playlist just for you. after visiting your hometown in america for the first time and seeing a bruce springsteen poster hanging your in bedroom in all its glory.

you proceeded to crack one of those stupid jokes that she finds funny followed by a genuine laugh from him. gosh, you loved that sound. most people found your humor dry, but he found your sense of humor charming.

when you first met him when he was visiting his hometown, chelmsford, for a few days. you were attending school for the school year as a foreign exchange student starting your junior year in london. you heard him laughing first then heard the accent. the following day, you walked around a retail market with him during the afternoon and by the night you’re in a pub with a few of his old friends.

you speak about him constantly which makes you come off as a bore to your friends now. coming back with many stories since you travel with him around to races. you used to find it difficult to sleep even in your bed, but with him, you’re comfortable enough to fall asleep easily even in a hotel bed with four unfamiliar walls around you. you know you’re gonna marry him one day.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2024

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Little Dove

I'm hoping to make more than one part as I am getting brain rot for Caracalla now as well as Geta. This is just to set up the tension. @byronking as promised

Part two

Life in the Roman court was tedious, surrounded by withered old men talking about politics that would never affect them, having to smile and fetch them some wine whenever they asked.

Your father started bringing you into court a few moons ago, he told you it was to satisfy your thirst for knowledge, yet after the first few meetings where all he did was introduce you widowers and wifeless men, you knew what you were really here for. You were to be essentially sold off to the highest bidder, whoever could grant your father the highest position in the Roman court.

Luckily for you your mind was sharp, where your brother's got to wield a sword you were able to wield your mind. The senators did not want a smart woman, they wanted a loyal servant whom they could use as a fuck pig to breed as many heirs as possible. Your intelligence threw off many men, you could see the way they screwed up their faces as you questioned their politics and their theories.

Your father was not happy with your antics, he could see what you were doing, even if you tried to play stupid about it at home, yet he had no proof to punish you with, all he could do was keep dragging you to court, forcing you to mingle or even on occasion be the cup bearer and pour wine for men who considered you a second class citizen.

Court was due again today, this was a particularly special one as the emperors would be in attendance as it was nearing an election for new senators. Your father had specificaly warned you today to be on your best behaviour, that just meant no arguing with anyone. An eye roll as his back was turned is all you responded with, you never sought out the arguments, it was the senators fault for probing you for your opinions.

As ever it was a dull affair, once again as the wine bearer you had to walk around the table filling the cups of lecherous old men that probably couldn't satisfy you even if they tried. You held a smile on you face and kept quiet as you felt your father's gaze on you, waiting for the Emperors to finally arrive.

You were stood quietly in the corner, wine jug in hand when the doors swung open, watching the two figures walk forth. This was the first time you had been this close to the Emperors, you had seen them at the games in their podium but this was different, you would pour them wine and be within touching distance, it made you nervous, scared that you would overfill their cups and be target to their wrath.

The twin emperors took their seats at the head of the table, the tension between them was thick, you could sense that neither wanted the other one there, resenting that they had to share their title. Geta was tall and imposing, clearly trying the be the leader of the two of them, you knew many a girl back home who had dreams about him, fantasies of being his wife. Yet your gaze lingered elsewhere.

The smaller of the two is where your gaze lied, upon Caracalla. He was less imposing yet something drew your gaze to him, it was like magnetism, you could not look away. Caracalla sat there next to his brother, looking no less regal in his golden attire, what did make you smile was the monkey upon his shoulder ruffling up his hair. It was a cute display and the confidence it took to sit there with a monkey making you look disheveled was something else entirely.

Time came once again for you to deploy wine for the decrepit senators sat before you, smiling your best as you did so, trying to ignore the hands that would find the small of your back as you bent forward to pour the wine, giggling at them as if it was all a joke, daring not to upset your father in front of the emperors now.

The walk around the table took some time, you were on your third pitcher of wine by now and you had not even reached the head of the table. You reached for your final pitcher as you approached the emperors, steeling yourself with a deep breath and approaching them cautiouly. Geta's goblet was the first to be filled, he barely acknowledged you, moving himself away from you as you poured his wine so he could carry on speaking down the table.

Next was Caracalla's, he had been mostly quiet this evening for some reason, little did you know it was because he had been watching you in the corner, chuckling at every eye roll you made, hearing the senators speak. You bent forth to fill his glass when the monkey upon his shoulder jumped onto your back. You gasped slightly before giggling as she started playing with your hair, picking it up and placing your long locks over her own head pretending to be you.

"You'll have to excuse Dundus my lady, she has always been a cheeky one" Caracalla spoke softly to you, enjoying the joyous display and the smile upon your face as Dundus climbed over your shoulders. You lifted your hand to hold the monkeys own and guided her back to Caracalla with a genuine grin plastered over your face.

"Not to worry my emperor, it is a fine delight from this boring affair" Your statement caught his attention, as did your eye roll that you did not mean to do, it had been a boring affair but never had a woman noticed or cared to comment as such. He held his hand out and took one of your own in his heavy jewelled hands, cradling it as he spoke to you. "And what might your name be my little dove" he spoke as he looked you up and down, the name little dove making your heart flutter and almost rendering you speechless as you looked at him, taking in his handsome form, trying not to be affected by his smile.

This interaction caused you to blush somewhat, unable to refuse eye contact with the emperor you could not hide it from him. "My name is Y/N, your majesty" you bowed slightly before him, custom normally dictated for a full curtsey however it would be impossible with your hand still held in his own, feeling it would be more offensive to remove your hand without permission.

"Well Y/N, you are a delightful change from the bore of these trivial affairs, I hope I can see more of you soon to keep me entertained" Caracalla placed a light kiss on your hand before letting you go. You could still feel the smirk against your skin as you walked away from him, the tingle of his lips lingering.

The court moved on without much incident after that, yet you both kept steeling shy glaces at one another throughout the session. Your father had noticed this, the sly man that he was and kept the information in the back of his mind, especially after he saw Caracalla speak privately to one of his guards, watching how his eyes were on you for the entire exchange. He knew something was afoot and would use it to further his favour in the senate.

[justporo]

Rooted within each other

The two of you shared tender glances, loving touches and slight laughs as you imagined what it could be like: to truly be with each other. All the while though neither of you dared to speak what was on both of your minds.

This pleasant back and forth went on for seemingly an eternity until both of your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat, hair dripping and messily falling into your faces, skin glowing feverhot.

MASTERLIST | AO3 | PART 3

Author's Note: It's time for dessert and thereby the hopefully sweet and overly emotional conclusion to this smut fic. Partly inspired by this post here by @brain-rot-central and another by @davenswitcher

Gif by @cheekylittlepupp (pls follow them!)

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, porn with feelings, vaginal sex, creampie, slight religious imagery, aftercare, Astarion speaking Elvish, lol Wordcount: 3,1k

Astarion’s words gently waved the oncoming dreams and rest away. You slowly blinked your eyes open laying on his chest and cuddled up even closer to him. There was no way you could tell when you had last felt this at peace.

“What?” you asked sheepishly as you had to fight to keep your eyes open. Post-orgasm haze and the way Astarion’s hand on your back had slowly caressed you close to slumber were making it difficult for you to grasp onto his meaning.

“Let me take care of you, darling,” Astarion muttered again. The words tumbled out of his mouth a little too quick - as if they had to be pushed out before they got lost elsewhere.

“Please,” he added. Which made you frown even more than the way he had spoken before.

Your arms still felt wobbly from the sex before but you pushed up with a bit of struggle to be able to look into the vampire’s eyes.

His hand on your back dropped slightly but stayed there a bit helplessly as you observed Astarion with some concern on your face. Red eyes were already wide and surprisingly vulnerable but while you just looked at him for several heartbeats they began flitting around nervously, tongue darting out to wet his lips and he cleared his throat as if the words had left an unpleasant, dry feeling behind.

Suddenly the fact that you were both completely naked and had just been deeply entwined felt like nothing anymore. In an instance Astarion second-guessed everything. Despite the physical closeness he suddenly feared you being far away. Just like it had been with so many others. Nothing but a transaction at best.

Astarion almost wished he could take back his words as you kept staring at him without saying anything. He’d been pushing his luck already he felt like. You had already been so generous with him.

That was exactly it though: he felt like he owed you. But not in the way he thought before, in that way he had dealt with way too often over the past couple of centuries. He had meant his words: he wanted to take care of you in turn after you had given him so much: blood, safety - and now so much tender and honest affection, he could feel his undead heart in his chest clench just looking at you. He hadn’t felt like this in centuries. Maybe he had never quite felt like this before.

And he just wanted to give you something in return. Not with an ulterior motive behind it. Solely because he wanted to see you smile at him. So you would laugh at one of his stupid jokes again, so you would whisper his name again when you came shivering in his arms and there was nothing and no one else on your mind.

Solely because Astarion  found - he liked you; in lack of better words (or lack of courage to use them, yet).

But the longer the silence drew out between you, insecurity took the better of him. He should have just kept quiet and enjoyed the serene silence with you in his arms.

Astarion was just about to wave off his request when you finally spoke.

“You know, Astarion,” you began and the vampire’s chest clenched, anxious for your next words “you don’t owe me anything in return.”

You cocked your head to one side, strands of your hair falling over your shoulder. Your fingers wandered lightly over Astarion’s chest.

He was immediately lost for words.

Out of everything that was not the reaction he would have anticipated. Immediately this felt wrong. There always was a price to be paid, a debt to be claimed some time - right?

You saw his sceptic thoughts on his face almost as clearly as if he had spoken them aloud. The time, and especially the nights spent together, when Astarion had sometimes allowed you to take a peek behind his tightly worn armour, had made you good at reading him.

And you knew that he wouldn’t deal well with a rejection - even if it was entirely out of pure motives. Not right now. So you opted for something that you thought might be even better - for both of you.

“How about-,” you started and placed your hand on Astarion’s chest firmly - right over where his heart must be. He immediately covered it with his own as he cautiously waited for your reply.

The way his crimson gaze glinted despite there being barely any light made you almost forget what you were trying to say. Three little words once more almost pushed themselves to the front, almost tumbling from your mouth.

Whatever this was that had seemingly manifested between the two of you this night, you hoped it wasn’t only a temporary spell. You hoped it would stay. Because the way Astarion stared up at you, eyes so open and his thumb tenderly brushing over your hand on his chest gave you a whole new desire to overcome all of these hardships that had been thrown your way. For him. And for you. Maybe even together.

“How about we take care of each other? Make it equal,” you proposed and immediately bit your lip after the words had left your tongue.

Astarion’s eyebrows lifted as your words surprised him once more. But a genuine, happy smile spread over his face rather quickly.

“I think I would like that, my dear,” Astarion replied and you felt how his remaining hand on your back slid over it as he nudged you to lean down to him.

He didn’t want to waste another precious moment with words if his lips could be otherwise occupied with kissing you. You leaned into him with a huge grin at how eager the rogue had suddenly become.

But when your open mouth met his and he kissed you like a starving man while your arms wrapped around his neck you quickly got lost in the moment. Never had he kissed you like this: his tongue slipped into your mouth, toyed with yours while his head turned to get more of this, of you. His free hand lifted to the nape of your neck, gently pulling you in closer while he dragged you right on top of him.

You sighed into his mouth as your body squished against his, your heart beginning to beat faster again as your naked body slid along his. Your softer curves fit perfectly with the harder lines of his body as you melted together - made for each other.

Astarion’s kiss was so greedy and hungry and giving and offering at the same time. Your hands wandered to his face, cupping it, thumbs wandering over his cheekbones, the line of his jaw, trying to really feel him. So you would remember this forever.

He moaned so softly it was barely perceptible when your fingers touched his sensitive elven ears. Your hands dug into his lush, white curls, fingertips dragging along Astarion’s scalp.

Simultaneously, the urge to feel you, everywhere and all around him became almost unbearable for Astarion.

Desire for each other grew quickly within you, generously laced with feelings reaching much deeper. Depths the two of you had barely scratched the surface off.

With roguish quickness Astarion grabbed you and flipped you over, immediately climbing on top of you, leaning on his elbows above you, holding himself there for a moment to take in the sight of you.

You gasped at the sudden change of position. Without hesitation you moved your hand to his face again as you drank him in much the same: a few curls were falling into his face in some disarray, lips parted and swollen from kissing, red eyes molten.

You were awestruck.

And much the same was true for Astarion. The way you stared up at him, one arm stretched out to him lovingly, your eyes so wide and yearning and full with nothing but love and wonder and that delightful full body flush turning your cheeks the most pleasant shade of pink.

He almost made confessions of love right then and there as he kept gazing upon you and knew he was a changed man. But before he felt he said something foolish that might ruin it all he busied his mouth again by pressing it to your neck.

The vampire held your head up much more tenderly than in the beginning of the night. Again feeling your quickening pulse under his lips and his fangs only an inch away from where they had been buried in your neck not so long ago, right when this night and everything had started.

He breathed in your intoxicating scent and kept kissing and caressing your delicate skin, leaving a wet, sloppy trail where he pressed his lips and tongue to you. Occasionally he suckled at your skin, leaving slight marks.

He just wanted to make you his, if only temporarily so.

You felt your own lust rear its head again inside of you as Astarion kept mouthing down your throat and his hands were once more roaming your body: cupping your breasts, redrawing the lines of your ribs, squeezing your butt as you wrapped your legs around his slender hips and arched towards his body.

Gasps from each of you filled the night air but neither of you spoke as your hands explored his body as well. Your hands wandered over his shoulders, his arms, felt the muscles tense up under your touch.

You didn’t even stop at the gruesome ridges on his back. With flat hands you stroked over them at an even pace while Astarion slightly shivered under your touch but didn’t withdraw. He just kept seeking the comfort in your touch and your body as you held him in your embrace.

Neither of you had any intention of stopping anytime soon as you kept exploring each other’s bodies unlike you had done before. You simply wanted to truly see and feel each other - not a layer between you.

In between Astarion lifted his head up again, locked eyes up with you while your touch wandered over his tortured back. You didn’t stop. He didn’t want you to you realised as you locked eyes with him.

You saw him, accepted him with everything that came along with him.

And Astarion felt seen, truly, maybe for the first time in his life.

What followed then was messy and sloppy as your limbs tangled even more, hands, mouths and eyes solely focused on each other. It wasn't practised or neat, not an act. It was raw and tender and loving and passionate. And more than anything: it was honest and real.

You dragged your bodies along each other as you felt your core throbbing with lust and Astarion’s hardened length kept rubbing against your heated skin.

The two of you kept writhing against each other, desire rising agonisingly slow as you took your time. The flames had been high all night but now they lazily rose higher until the embers were glowing white and hot beneath.

For all you cared, this could well go on forever. You wouldn't have minded staying in this limbo of lust and love - maybe forever.

Lazily you went through all sorts of different caresses and new positions to press yourself against each other: you on top, dragging your core along his cock, Astarion diving between your legs to pleasure you with his mouth until you almost already fell for him again, kneeling in front of each other as your hands each stroked each other's most sensitive parts, rolling around in the small space of Astarion's tent until you had gotten lost even in the tiny bit of room you had there.

You drew out this small piece of heaven for each other for as long as you could while keeping the other just right off that edge so you could let yourself fall down together when you chose to do so later on.

The two of you shared tender glances, loving touches and slight laughs as you imagined what it could be like: to truly be with each other. All the while though neither of you dared to speak what was on both of your minds.

This pleasant back and forth went on for seemingly an eternity until both of your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat, hair dripping and messily falling into your faces, skin glowing feverhot.

You were sitting on his lap, Astarion kneeling on his bedroll, both arms wrapped around you to hold you close to him. His hard and weeping cock was pressed pleasantly between your hot bodies as you were kissing again. Your time much better spent with your mouth on each other but with words you couldn’t be sure you might regret come the next morning. Your arms were holding onto his face as you kissed him messily, rocking back and forth, heads leaning and gasps and moans passed between each other. 

Astarion’s hands were grabbing onto your thighs like a drowning man would a lifeline - and that was pretty much what he felt like with you. He’d been drowning, already dead inside. But then you came along, offering him another shot at something he’d long thought forgotten.

Then you broke the kiss, cradling his face in your hands as he looked upon you as if you were a deity finally descended from the heavens to answer all of his prayers.

His white curls were falling into his face, dripping with sweat as he breathed heavily, eyes so full of yearning it made your chest clench. This was probably the most vulnerable you had ever seen him. And you wished to cradle his heart just as gently as you did his face.

“Do you even have an idea,” Astarion whispered as he gazed upon you with wonder in his eyes and began to lift you by your thighs until your entrance was lined up with the head of his cock “how much I want you?”

You could merely hold onto him and feel your pulse race even faster as you anticipated being one with him once more.

With his words he slowly but firmly pulled you down on him. He immediately bottomed out, leaving you only to let your head fall back and groan his name as you got to experience the pleasure of Astarion filling you for the second time this night.

The vampire began to engage a gentle rhythm, more rocking than thrusting for now. But heat was quickly rising even higher now that you finally felt him inside of you again, your walls already clenching around him in desperation to feel, to have more. The way you wrapped your arms around him was just as desperate: trying to be as close and joint with him as possible.

“I have an inkling,” you breathed and heard Astarion softly chuckle in response, feeling the soft vibration echo through your wrapped up bodies.

You kept moving with a tenderness that was at odds with how you had indulged each other before. But it seemed this night was made out of differences and shifting them.

Astarion began to fuck you gently. You rocked your hips in rhythm with his slow but forceful movements, each of you savouring every moment.

It became rougher and faster and harder as you went - the air filled with nothing but gasps and moans. No more room or breath for sweet nothings or words of affection that merely danced around the real thing.

Your breaths become rugged as you felt yourself rocked to the core, orgasm fast approaching as Astarion kept thrusting into you - the sounds he made just as desperate as yours. Different feelings within you became nearly overwhelming as you skyrocketed towards the end of this road.

Your head fell back with a mewl as you felt you were only moments away from completely unravelling for the vampire. And you already knew your only wish was  to keep doing this again and again and again - until maybe someday you would have nothing left to give, but the vampire finally would feel loved.

As your head lolled back Astarion wrapped his arms even closer around you as he kept speeding up the pace and he was making you come undone. He felt lost in you - but pleasantly. The way his chest swelled as he gazed upon you, saw drops of sweat run down your already glistening, exposed throat and he heard his name on your lips like the sweetest promise.

In a final effort he bowed you on his lap while his cock plunged in and out of you and you felt the edges of your existence fray.

“Come for me, darling,” Astarion murmured with a voice barely above a whisper, hands on your spine and neck, bowing you to him further as he willed you over the edge. His mouth licked and suckled on the space in between your breasts, feeling your fluttering heartbeat and he sensed and heard you comply to his request - positively falling for him but only to be caught by him.

Astarion felt you clench down around him, his own demise only a blink or two away. But he needed to watch you, see the utter bliss on your face as you fell without hesitating.

And when he knew you were completely lost in the magic of moment he finally couldn’t resist anymore. As he fell himself, dick inside of you twitching and spilling himself inside of you, Astarion heaved a breath against your trembling chest, words barely distinguishable as he mumbled them: whispering them in hopes you wouldn’t hear and understand but with the desperate wish to put them out there to give them some reality.

“Ai Armiel Telere Maenen Hir!*” Elvish words dancing over your glistening skin, Astarion’s breath between your breasts making you shiver without you knowing why.

The words kept ringing in his own ears as he held your trembling form afterwards. More sweet words, touches and glances were exchanged as you snuggled up with each other in the aftermath. Meanwhile each of your yearning grew almost unbearable.

And as you lay there in his arms Astarion made a realisation and a decision: he couldn’t go on like this anymore. Either his earlier words became real and so the thing that had formed between the two of you - or he would perish.

Tomorrow, he vowed to himself, tomorrow he would tell you.

For now he was too lost in how your head was resting on his chest, low light and shadows painting your face lovingly - and Astarion couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sight to behold for the rest of his immortal life.

(*You hold my heart forever)

~~~

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[gam3r-girli3]

The day Arthur proposed to you had the been the happiest day of his life - because, out of some sheer miracle, you'd said yes

He swore his heart had never felt so full and warm and whole

In that moment - when he slid his mother's ring onto your finger and stood, big hands grabbing your waist and pulling you into him so he can lean down to capture your lips with his - he knows he's finally found his happy ever after

Until it falls apart

It's his fault, of course it is. He was stupid, he fumbled the amazing relationship he had when, once again, his old mentor called and he, like a fool, came running

You'd often voiced your disapproval of Dutch many times since getting together with Arthur, but he'd shrugged it off

"That's just how he is", "You know Dutch, always gotta plan up his sleeve", "I know, darlin', but I owe him everythin,"

Now, he'd lost you because he, once again, chose Dutch over you

The months after the split were some of the hardest months he'd ever experienced

There was a constant ache in his chest that never seemed to leave, a pain that haunted him morning, noon and night

He couldn't bare to touch your side of the bed, still unmade from the day you'd left

He usually just slept on the couch, passed out after a bottle of whiskey

In your angry rush to leave, you'd left some things behind you; a toothbrush, a few hair ties lying around, and an old t-shirt belonging to Arthur that you'd stolen and claimed as your 'sleep shirt'

Sometimes he'd take it and bring it to his nose, deeply inhaling your scent and missing you even more than he already did

It's no secret that Arthur is loyal to those he loves beyond reason, and he's incredibly sentimental

Those few items you'd left behind get put into a box that he keeps sacredly, occasionally looking through it on days he finds himself reminiscing about the past

There's a framed photo on his nightstand collecting dust of the two of you; his friend Charles had snapped it one time at a barbecue hosted by Abigail and John

In it, you two had been embracing, stealing a moment for yourselves, his head leaning down to rest against your forehead, noses brushing against each other, eyes closed as you bask in each other's presence

It was a beautiful picture, and you'd been so grateful to Charles for capturing it and emailing you a copy to print and frame

There's days when it seems like you're haunting Arthur no matter where he goes or what he does

He'll be in town, walking down the street when he sees a woman with hair almost exactly like yours, remembering how soft it felt under his fingers

He'll be in the kitchen, making food when he hears one of your favourite songs on the radio, remembering how you used to sing along to it

He'll be scrolling on social media and an advertisement will pop up of your favourite perfume, remembering how the scent still lingered in your shared living space for days after you left

Regret and loneliness are constant companions in Arthur's heart as he tries to continue on living as normally as he can, going to work, coming home, running when Dutch says he needs his help

It's a solid year later before Arthur's path crosses with yours once again

The sight of you, so real and alive and right in front of him, is enough to take the breath from his lungs

You were always beautiful to him, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but now? There was something damn near ethereal about you

The conversation is short and sweet, polite and a little awkward

Somehow, by some stroke of good luck on his end, you end up having coffee with him, which turns into a few hours of catching up and talking like old times

Which leads to texting each other frequently, sending memes and jokes back and forth

And then, to you showing up at his door one night, regretful and wondering if you'd made a mistake by calling things off

Arthur's all too eager to have you come back to him, but he reigns it in, knowing he can't make you do anything; this has to be your choice

Arthur Morgan has never been the religious type but in that moment he sends out a prayer to whatever divine entity will listen that you'll forgive him and come back to him

requested ♡ hope you enjoy anon!

[ pics in collage do not belong to me - all were found on pinterest ]

[dgaftilwedie]

namgyu nsfw alphabet!!!

i've had this sitting in my google docs for almost two months now?? and i saw one of my moots post their version, so i thought i'd post my own too!! i went a teensy tiny bit crazy but namgyu's like, my favorite character ever so i felt obligated <3 i wrote this at like 2 in the morning so please excuse any spelling/grammar errors... oopsies

contains: 18+ content (minors dni, you know the drill), namgyu being a freak (affectionate), recreational drug use, somno, namgyu's probably a tad ooc (i am a firm believer namgyu isn't a pos to his partners, just the people he doesn't like), just a whole bunch of stuff :3 everything's below the cut!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If Namgyu’s with somebody he loves, it reflects in the way he takes care of them after sex. He’s an avid fan of basking in the afterglow and not cleaning up immediately. He’ll hold your naked body against his chest and talk to you about whatever crosses his mind. Expect a lot of late-night conversations passing a cigarette back and forth after going to Freak Town. He also has a mini-fridge in his room that has snacks and water in them, and he’ll offer to grab you something if you’re interested.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

You can very clearly tell he loves his hands. They’re pretty big with slender fingers that are always adorned with rings. Always. He loves the way they look running through your hair, around your throat, gripping your thighs, inside of you… As for you, it’s hard for him to choose just one thing. Namgyu thinks it’s corny but everything about you is perfection to him. He’d probably say something about your eyes, or how soft your hair is, or how nice you smell… Or something about your thighs. Fuck, he loves your thighs. He likes grabbing them, likes when they’re tightened around his head or shaking around his waist. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Namgyu likes it messy. He’ll cum all over your face, your chest, your stomach, pretty much anywhere. He doesn’t care. Sometimes he’ll be a dick and try to get it in your hair. His freaky ass likes to take pictures of your face when it’s covered in his cum just to jerk off to them later.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes to “borrow” your dirty underwear to jerk off with it. He’s embarrassed to even think about it, but whenever he comes over, he just… Y’know, snags a pair off the floor or out of your laundry and brings ‘em home!!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Namgyu knows what he’s doing; that’s for sure. He’s been around the block. Not a total manwhore, but he’s had his fair share of one-night stands. However, when he’s with you, he doesn’t really consider his previous experiences. Namgyu focuses more on what feels good for the both of you. He wants to learn your body and all the things that get you off. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

AVID SPOONING ENJOYER. Namgyu loves any position where the two of your are as close as humanly possible. He needs to be able to feel your body against him in like 20 different spots at all times. Any position that gives him easy access to your neck is another factor. Sometimes when he doesn’t have that much energy, he’ll sit with his back against his headboard and insist you ride him like that. He’ll dig his fingers into your waist and press wet, open-mouthed kisses to your neck as you do all the work.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Namgyu gets very giggly during sex. He makes it a challenge to try and make you laugh at every opportunity. Part of it is because he loves how cute you look when you’re happy, but another part of it is that he hates when the tension gets too high. It makes his nervous. He’ll tickle your sides while he’s buried deep inside of you or crack the occasional stupid joke. It may be annoying but at least you know he’s comfortable with you!! However, there are definitely times where he doesn’t give a fuck how tense it is. He’ll be all over you, all act and no play. These are usually times where he’s either angry, jealous, or super fucking horny.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s trimmed. He hates having a lot of hair so he keeps it nice and short. However, it’s very soft. Take that as you will.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

If he’s with someone he loves, he’s a complete sap. Sex is actually really special to Namgyu if it’s with someone like you. No matter how rough he is, he makes sure you know deep down that he loves you. He’ll degrade you, but it’s broken up with praises of how well you’re taking him, how beautiful you look, how good you’re doing for him. He’ll sink his teeth into your neck just to make you jump only to pepper your neck and your face with the gentlest kisses. Namgyu’s always telling you how much he loves you. Again, he becomes a complete sap with you. “I love you”s before, during, and after are a must for him. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Namgyu’s kind of a horndog, honestly. He gets worked up pretty quickly. Lucky for you, he’s really cute when he jerks off. He’ll bite his bottom lip as, whining about the things he wants to do to you. Or the things he wants you to do to him. He whimpers when he cums, too. If he’s in a really good mood and you overhear him, you’ll probably catching mumbling under his breath about how he’s “such a good boy for you”.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I have a lot to say here… He’s an absolute freak in the sheets.

Marking of any kind. Hickeys, scratches, anything that tells people you’re each other’s. That’s a must for him. A necessity.

Hairpulling. If you’re pulling his hair, he’ll come undone almost immediately. 

Absolutely into dry humping. This is very important to me. And to him. 

Praise and degradation. He doesn’t shut up during sex, and he loves it when you get on the fun and start saying shit to him. It makes his knees buckle.

He’s a little bit of a voyeur, honestly!! If you let him, he’d love to just sit there and watch you touch yourself. I mentioned it above, but he also takes a lot of pictures of the two of you during sex to use for later.

VERY into phone sex. Nudes, voice messages, nut videos (with the sound on)... Sometimes he’ll even call you when he’s on a break at work just to rub one out in the bathroom.

Somnophilia… If you’re into it, he’d love to wake you up with his head in between your legs.

Dacryphilia on the downlow. It doesn’t turn him on if you’re crying because you’re like, sad or in pain, but he loves making you feel so good you cry. He could easily spend hours teasing you just to see a tear drip down your cheeks as you beg him to let you cum. It drives his mind wild to think about it.

Speaking of, he loves making you beg for it. 9 times out of 10, you’re not cumming until he hears you begging for it. 

Stoned sex!! I will expand on this later…

Lowkey wouldn’t mind you call him a good puppy. But it’s gonna take a lot of courage on his end to open up about that one… He likes when you take control in general, honestly.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As long as your both comfortable, he doesn’t give a fuck. He’d prefer to do it on a soft surface, like a bed or a couch or at the very least, a blanket. If you’re both super worked up, he doesn’t mind fuck you against the wall of a bathroom stall or the backseat of his car!! Happy wife (gender neutral), happy life!! <3

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Like I mentioned, Namgyu gets worked up pretty easily. The most subtle touches can get him hard, and it’s actually really cute. Touching his neck is your best bet if you wanna get him in the mood. Run your fingers through his hair and scratch just the right spot, maybe give it a tug. Slip your fingers around the hem of his pants or press them against his stomach. He really likes that. He also has a thing for people running their fingers over his tattoos and fidgeting with his rings or pulling his chain. He’s a little easy, ok?? Just a bit.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Namgyu’s into some harder shit but he doesn’t fuck with shit or vomit. Ageplay also weirds him out.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Namgyu’s just a little bit selfish… He loves when you suck him off. He’ll run his fingers through his hair, tugging on it to guide you, basically using your mouth as a fleshlight. He gets a little bit carried away sometimes, but your mouth just feels so good on his cock… On the flip side, he hasn’t had that much practice going down on other people. He barely knows what he’s doing at first. He just wings it with sloppy kisses and kitten licks. However, Namgyu’s a very fast learner. He figures out what he’s doing faster than you anticipated. He quickly discovers everything that makes you tick, and fuck, he gets really good at it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on what kind of mood he’s in. If he’s in a bad mood, you’re getting your guts obliterated. Sometimes he’ll take it so painfully slow it feels like he’s torturing you (he is) (because he’s an asshole). Most of the time, however, he’s at a nice little in-between. He’ll switch between fast, sensual thrusts to ones that are so slow and so rough and so hard you’d think he’s trying to make you explode. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Namgyu eats quickies UP. He loves them. Sometimes you think he loves them more than regular sex. There’s nothing he loves more than dragging you to a bathroom or a dead-end alley to release whatever pent-up frustration you have. He knows you need it, and he just gets so distracted, he can’t help himself… Sometimes you’ll surprise him at work before his breaks and Namgyu will take you to one of the empty VIP rooms just to fuck you. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Oh, absolutely. Namgyu is the epitome of risky. He’ll (try to) try anything once, and he’s very vocal about the things that he doesn’t like. He’s super cool with bringing things into the bedroom as long as you have a conversation about it first so he isn’t surprised. If you want a safe word, he’s down with that too, but if you tell him to stop, he’s going to stop. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can usually go about three rounds on a good day, as long as he has a quick break in between them. If he’s in the right mood (or he popped a pill beforehand) he can go as many rounds as you want without stopping. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Namgyu doesn’t personally own any. He’s never felt the need for them if his hand (or your mouth) is right there. If you use them or are interested in bringing them into the bedroom, he’s intrigued. He fantasizes about it way more than he wants to admit. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This is Namgyu we’re talking about. Namgyu’s an asshole. He loves teasing you. Adores it, actually. It makes sex just so much more fun to him to watch you shake, whining about how bad you need him. He loves making you beg for the smallest things, whether it be a kiss or for him to finally put his dick inside of you. Sometimes he’ll stop his movements all together just to hear you cry out his name. He’ll have you thinking he’s going to let you cum before pulling out and laughing as you clench around nothing. He always makes up for it at the end, though.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s so fucking noisy. Like I said, he doesn’t shut up during sex. He basically talks you through it. He wants to be able to hear you, just you, but you feel so fucking good it makes his head swirl. He can’t help it!! He gets so whimpery in the moment, even when he’s in charge. He’ll bury his face into your neck as he tries to hold back his moans. It doesn’t work. It’s really hot. Especially when you can feel his breath against his neck and hear his mumbles more clear because he’s right next to your hair. If you’re fucking him, it’s a whole other story. He doesn’t even bother trying.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I mentioned it earlier, but stoned sex is one of his favorite things ever. He doesn’t want to pressure you but if you’re down, he’s the happiest camper. He’ll light up a joint for the two of you to share and it’ll lead to the softest, giggliest, laziest, most intimate sex you’ll ever have. He’s pace with be so slow and so sensual. Every thrust feels like heaven, and the way he cups your face and kisses you every five seconds will have you practically falling apart. 

Also, if you’re AFAB, he does not care if you’re on your period (as long as you don’t care). He’ll lay a towel down and go to town. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

5¾’’, cut. Shaft is #EBC3BA, tip is #D9A69E. Slight upwards curve that hits literally the perfect spot. Prince Albert with black jewelry.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s pretty fucking high. He could go multiple times a day if you were down. He’d totally understand if you weren’t, though. He’ll just jerk off and get on with his day.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Namgyu prefers to stay awake after sex. Usually it takes him an hour or two to fall asleep afterwards, but he likes to make sure you’re comfortable and/or asleep first so he’s not just leaving you hanging. Sometimes he’ll just forgo sleep and pop a pill. If you fall asleep and he’s still awake, he’ll hold you close to him, running his fingers through your hair. He likes to trace your features, admire the face he gets to wake up to every day. He’ll talk to you even though you’re asleep, telling you about his day, but eventually he’ll start to spill out the most heartwarming compliments about you - ones that he couldn’t say to your face without getting embarrassed. 

[fawnme1]

THE SOFTEST THING — WILLNE

CHAPTER THREE

previous part ,, next part

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

You were mid-toast when your phone buzzed again for what felt like the hundreth time that morning.

The notifications hadn’t stopped since Dangerous dropped. Between fans tagging you in their TikToks, your manager lining up interviews, and Alfie sending you increasingly unhinged memes comparing your song to different types of pasta — it was a lot.

Joe was already on his second bowl of cereal, sitting across the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone. Alfie was still half-asleep, face-down on the couch in Joe’s living room, wrapped in a blanket like a crime scene.

Then Joe looked up. “Oi. You see what Will posted?”

You didn’t even have to ask which Will.

“What?” you asked casually, wiping crumbs from your hoodie.

Joe smirked and turned his phone to show you.

It was Will’s Instagram story.

Your Dangerous video.

Reposted with the caption: “Didn’t expect this one to slap me in the chest, but here we are.”

Your stomach did a tiny, unexpected flip.

Alfie, still muffled from under his blanket, perked up. “He posted that?”

Joe nodded, still grinning. “And tagged her, too. Like bold-bold.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re acting like he doesn’t know me.”

“He knows you,” Joe said, drawing out the word, “but he’s never posted your music before. Especially not with the chest-slap emoji.”

“He didn’t use a chest-slap emoji.”

“Same energy,” Alfie muttered.

You tried to brush it off, tried to act like it was normal. You knew Will. He’d been around for years — friend of a friend turned occasional hangout buddy. You’d shared drinks at parties, joked in group chats, even filmed a few videos in the same house. But it had always been… surface-level. Lighthearted. Teasing.

Never serious. Definitely never flirty.

Until now.

Ding.

A message. From him.

Will: that was cold.

actually sat me down for a minute lol.

You stared at it longer than you should have.

Alfie sat up suddenly, rubbing his face. “You’re gonna reply, right? Or are you gonna stare at it until the battery dies?”

Joe leaned in, dramatic as ever. “Be honest. You fancy him a little.”

“I don’t,” you said too quickly.

They both cackled like hyenas.

“I don’t,” you repeated, quieter. “He’s just… Will.”

“Exactly,” Alfie said, “which is why this is so weirdly charged all of a sudden.”

You hated that he was right. You hated that your heart had done something stupid at the sight of Will’s name on your lockscreen. Because nothing had ever happened. It had never even been on your radar.

Until that moment, when he’d seen you fully — and said something real.

You finally replied.

You: appreciate that. didn’t think i’d hit like that tbh.

His answer came fast.

Will: nah, it’s heavy in the best way

you been sitting on stuff like this the whole time?

Your fingers hovered over your screen.

Something about the way he said that — like he actually wanted to know — left your thoughts a little tangled.

This wasn’t teasing. This wasn’t the usual back-and-forth.

Something had shifted.

And you weren’t sure you were ready for it.

It started with a group plan.

Just a chill one. Nothing fancy. Joe had texted you that morning about drinks at someone’s flat — not even a proper party, just one of those Friday night things here everyone ends up sitting on the floor talking rubbish until 2am.

You weren’t planning to stay long. You hadn’t slept properly in days, and you still had three interviews and a live session next week. But Alfie was already hyping it up in the group chat with memes and fake RSVPs like “This is my Met Gala,” and you’d promised Joe you’d come at least for a bit.

So you showed up in your usual jacket and your usual “not trying too hard” makeup, armed with a bottle of wine you weren’t going to drink, and your nerves tucked away somewhere behind your lip gloss.

The flat was already full when you got there — low lights, someone’s playlist buzzing through bluetooth speakers, and the usual mix of voices your recognised instantly.

And then there he was.

Will.

Leaning against the kitchen counter in a grey hoodie, drink in hand, mid-laugh at something of the Sidemen had just said. Nothing new. You’d seen him in this exact setting a dozen times. Always a little smug, always chill, always with that look like he was watching the room more than he was in it.

But this time, his eyes found yours a little too quickly.

And he didn’t look away.

You gave him a polite nod, a quiet “alright,” and went to find Joe.

An hour in, you were mid-convo with Becky about the nightmare that is festival soundchecks, when you felt a tap on your arm.

You turned, and there he was.

“Mind if I steal you for a sec?” Will asked. Too casual.

You blinked. “What, are we doing press now?”

He laughed. “Nah. Just figured you could use a break from telling people your song wasn’t about a breakup.”

You raised a brow. “You stalking my convos?”

“Just well-trained ears,” he said, stepping back and motioning to the balcony. “Come on.”

You followed him out onto the small, cramped balcony — just the two of you now, with the city noise in the distance and the hum of laughter behind the door.

The air was crisp. Not cold, but enough to make you fold your arms.

Will leaned against the railing, then looked over at you with something just a bit more focused than usual.

“So,” he said. “You didn’t tell me you were sitting on that kind of music.”

You gave a small shrug. “Didn’t really come up.”

He nodded slowly. “Still. That track hit.”

“I thought you liked funny edits and TikTok beef.”

“I do,” he said, smirking a little. “But that chorus? That’s not just music. That’s stuff you’ve lived through.”

You didn’t answer right away. That hit a little too close.

He caught it. “Sorry, was that too deep for like… minute four of this conversation?”

“No,” you said softly. “I just haven’t heard anyone say that out loud yet.”

He looked at you then. Properly.

And you hated how warm your cheeks suddenly felt.

“You think I’m joking most of the time,” he said after a beat. “But I know a good song when I hear one. That’s one’s got teeth.”

You smiled a little. “You get like this with everyone?”

He shook his head once. “Not really.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was heavy.

He looked like he wanted to say more. Like there was a question sitting on the tip of his tongue. But instead, he just took a sip from his drink and nodded back toward the door.

“Come on,” he said, “before your fan club starts wondering where you’ve gone.”

You followed him inside.

But something in the air had changed.

And you felt in your chest for the rest of the night.

[harunade]

thoughts about gyuvin fighting with reader and having angry sex?? like he’s so aggressive and hot… anyways babes i love ur work sooo much 💗

thank u so much babe ily!!!! Cw: arguing & chocking

I think gyuvin isn’t the type to fight very often 🤔 cause he usually just cracks jokes and tries to make you laugh if you’re upset.. but you sometimes get tired of his childish and unserious behaviour and you snap..

yelling & crying around the room you two were into and you still haven’t made up. The actual reason of the fight is probably not that deep and serious, yet none of you backs down.

“Of course you are correct, Y/n. Because GOD FORBID i am right and you are wrong” Gyuvin shouts and throws his arms in the air in annoyance. You weren’t expecting him to actually argue back, but you couldnt lie: he was sexy as fuck . Eyes slightly red, lips plump from biting them & an angry dominating voice. You could have jumped right there and then

“So know you’re not saying anything anymore?” He looks at you with a scoff. seems like you lost yourself in thoughts. Who cares about a stupid argument? You needed your man. “You look so good..” you murmur as you approach him.

You start a kiss and his hands go straight below your ass, signaling to jump. Said and done, he was now carrying you to your shared bed. Slamming you down, he towered over you as usually. Gyuvin had a dominant look in his eyes. It was very out of character. Your usual funny and calm boyfriend became a beast.

He ripped your short off and teased your aching hole. He looked you dead in the eyes as he teased you. “Please…” tears were starting to form in your eyes. “I don’t think you deserve it” he said bluntly.

Eventually, he shoved his hard cock inside of you. He went back and forth at a quick speed, something you weren’t used to. He gave you no time to adjust and used you yo get off. “You’re so annoying.. always pissing me off. I bet you wanted this to happen, didn’t you..?” A large hand wrapped itself around you throat, slowly stopping the air flow. You were expecting yourself to be a little scared, but you were nothing but excited.

“You better apologise if you wanna cum” he said as he gave your clit a harsh spank, causing you to jolt. “Please.. am sorry,,, please” tears started flowing down your face but he seemed satisfied with it, as a smirk was on his.

Gyuvin finished inside of you, something very usual for him, but it fit the moment well. After he pulled out, he looked at your fucked out face and his eyes softened. Leaning in, he placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry baby. Let’s not fight again.”

“I’m sorry, too. But i kinda liked it” you both chuckled

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 12.8k

Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing for me I appreciate it, bestie

Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spitting ideas and giving feedback.

Warnings: Degradation/praise, eating out, public sex, daddy kink, and several scenes where smut is mentioned but not described. There is about 1k of words just from Dylan's perspective but its worth it trust me.

Eddie is a bit of a sugar daddy in this part, but its ok cause we all want him to spoil us anyway.

Author's note: Some of y'all are gonna make me cry with how kind you are with your words for this fic. I cannot believe how much this story has truly taken over my life. People have expressed sharing it with friends and I just cannot get over that. Thank you.

-

Your hands held a home-made cocktail on ice while The Princess Diaries played on the tv, a soft blanket covered your crossed legs as you sat with both Sky and Bethany in your living room, scattered along your couch.

Bethany often snuck a joint or two while she visited, the window staying open to minimize a smell with a 20-dollar fan in front of it to promote air circulation. It was nice to have a girls’ night, to order bags of chips and candy over SkiptheDishes, wear face masks, do your makeup for the hell of it, and just let loose.

Bethany made her way over about a movie and a half ago, and she was now explaining a stupid mishap from her office administrative position that quite literally pulled the company to a halt for 45 minutes. “I swear, you could not pay me enough to put up with those drivers.” She claims, taking an inhale from the joint in her two painted fingers.

Sky makes a sudden movement in her seat, reaching to the remote next to her to pause the movie. “Holy shit. Did I tell you I saw Eddie?” Her question is directed across you to Bethany, and you’re left wondering why the hell your boyfriend is the new topic of discussion.

“Wait, what?” Bethany asks, wide green eyes moving back and forth between you and Sky. “When and where?”

“Our date?” You interject her, a little weirded out by the turn this conversation has taken. “When Eddie picked me up, she was here.”

“Oh, I see.” She hums to herself. “Well, since she won’t show us a photo, please tell me what the man who’s old enough to be her father looks like.”

You roll your eyes at this, a cheeky thought occurring to you. “Well Dylan might be great; but he is a sequel. Ain’t nothing compared to the original.”

Sky nods, agreeing. “Eddie is… very good looking.” You shoot her a warning look, for some reason, her just alluding to his good looks makes you feel territorial. “Show her a picture if you don’t want to hear it, damn! Just telling the truth…”

“It’s not that I won’t show you guys,” you explain, unlocking your phone. “It’s that he doesn’t use social media, so he has no good photos of himself.” On the internet, at least.

“What, no throw back photos from Dylan’s insta?” Sky asks, mostly joking.

You go to Dylan’s insta, and you can’t view it. Fuck, you forgot. He blocked you. Even though he seems to be on better terms with you, simple reminders like being blocked from his social media or him refusing to tell any details about his life remind you he’s still nursing a healing wound. “Still blocked.” You look up, and their faces tell you they’re not letting up on it. “Fine. I’ll go to Eddie’s Facebook.”

Eddie added you as a friend the day after your date, adorably waiting as you went on your phone to accept it. The moment you did he went onto your profile and dove into your photos. His eyes were comically wide as he scrolled through them, and after the first few swipes he lifted his head to you. “You just put these on here? Fuck.” The photos weren’t even particularly bad, just you in a bikini on the beach or in a summer dress, he’s just that obsessed with you. You asked him if he minded and he shook his head comically, his dimples so prominent from his wide smile, he looked manic. “Oh, I never said to stop, sweetheart.”

Your thumb slides into Eddie’s profile, and while you were afraid of the calls from a judgemental relative about the relationship with him the word single on his relationship status still hits you hard in the chest. You move to his photos, past the useless profile picture that was his company logo of Munson’s Garage and swipe through the regular posts, past Dylan’s graduation from college, from high school, a picture of a nice car, an old one of his ex with Dylan, (barf), until you finally got through to a throwback, one posted in 2011.

It was taken in the 90s, so a picture of a picture of him sitting at an old kitchen table arm in arm with another dude. One of his feet was up on the table, and he was clutching a beer, lifting it to the camera. His friend was talking to someone off camera, distracted for the moment, his slightly freckled face in a scowl. His friend had brown hair down to his neck styled specifically in a swoop, and they seemed about the same age.

His friend was quite attractive, but younger Eddie made you fucking drool. God, he was so gorgeous. He wore a leather jacket under a denim vest, ripped blue jeans over his big black boots. Fuck. You almost didn’t want to share this photo.

You go to the next photo, and a giggle leaves your mouth as you see him posing with a friend, tongues out and devil horns on their heads as smiles peek through. The background is a stage at an Iron Maiden concert, and they both look ecstatic. It’s a different friend in this one with curly hair, but it looked like he had posted from the Iron Maiden concert. A few more scrolls told you that the throwback photo would be the best option.

“Ok.” You finally say, and both girls have been waiting so long at this point they’ve started scrolling on their own phones. “Guys. You wanna see it or not?”

You hand your phone to Bethany, indicating he was the one on the right. The possessiveness that hits you when you see her reaction, her wide eyes and jaw literally dropping, stunted you. “Holy shit. This is him from how long ago?”

“In the late 90s, I guess.” You tell her.

She hands the phone to Sky, who was asking for it repeatedly as soon as Bethany let out her reaction. “Oh, yeah. He was a cutie. Honestly, he’s hotter now.” Your teeth grit, and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“How?” Bethany asks, gesturing to your phone.

“Ok. Enough. He’s very good looking. But he’s fucking taken.” You bark out, holding your hand out for the phone.

They both stop talking, your sudden anger very uncharacteristic of you. Usually when you find someone particularly good looking, you’d show them off, agreeing with your two friends when they would praise their good looks. This wasn’t anything like those times. Hearing their praises just makes you want to sink your teeth into Eddie’s neck and mark your territory the next time you see him.

“Woah, girl.” Sky says, laughing lightly to diffuse the tension. “Never seen that side of you before.”

“Well, I didn’t even know she existed until a waitress looked at Eddie on our date and I wanted to throttle her,” You admit, grabbing the nearly empty cocktail and taking a sip. “I just…I don’t know why I’m so territorial over him, but God, the thought of him with someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”

Bethany holds her hands up in surrender, “Alright, we won’t compliment him anymore. But you did good, girl. You did mighty good.”

-

As per usual, the girls'-day-in resulted in the three of you falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows scattered across the three of you. The sun cascading through a window by the couch wakes you up, disgruntled, as you pat around for your phone. The screen greets you harshly, your notifications indicating you have three messages from Eddie, two from a manager at work, and the several random ones, which you clear out, not caring about Instagram stories for the moment. Eddie texted to say he was going into work for a few hours. The next two messages indicated if you were there when he got home, he wouldn’t be against it.

Basically, he just told you to please be there when he got home. Fuck, the feeling of him reaching out first was enough to send a wide smile to your face, staring stupidly at your phone. You message him back, letting him know you’ll be there.

The messages from your manager were one from two hours ago, asking if you’d be able to come in for 10 o’clock– Which was thirty-five minutes ago– and the second asked if you were able to come in at all. You quirk your eyebrow, glad your read receipts are off for her, because you’re planning now to text at 3 o'clock to let her know that, oops, you just saw this. No, you’re not going in on your day off, you’ll be spending it with your ridiculously hot boyfriend.

You leap from your couch, running into your room to pack another overnight bag. You’re out the door before the others even stir.

As you pull into Eddie’s driveway, you notice Dylan’s truck there, but Eddie’s is still gone. You wonder when he’ll be back, because although Dylan is civil towards you, interactions with him are still stunted. You open the front door, grateful Dylan tended to leave it unlocked. You drop your overnight bag and pillow off at the staircase, its usual spot, before you trot off to the living room where Dylan sits watching tv.

As you plop down next to him on the other side of the couch, Dylan looks to you, startled by the movement, but his eyes roll in exasperation when he realizes that it’s you. “Hi.” You sing-song to him, knowing you’re annoying him, but having fun with it anyways.

“Hey.” He deadpans, watching the tv instead of looking over to you.

“Oh, wow you’re almost caught up.” You say, indicating to a show that you had recommended he watched a while back.

“Turned out to be a good show.” He comments, sounding annoyed.

“Well, how about that?” You retort, and Dylan rolls his eyes before a small smile lands on his face.

Progress.

Less than an hour later, the front door closes, indicating Eddie’s homecoming. He walks in, and as you pay attention to a particularly good episode in this series, you hear a big stretch come from him. “Hi, Ed!” You call out, finally turning towards him.

Fuck. Holy shit.

A few grease stains paint Eddie’s hands and chin, and he’s wearing a pair of blue coveralls from work with a patch on his chest of his name. The grease monkey suit shows off his muscles beautifully, both sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair is tied back into a messy bun, and you’re sure he forgot about the reading glasses on his head. Oh god, he is mouth watering.

A throw pillow hits your face, completely startling you. You whip your head around, glaring at  the culprit. “Little drool.” Dylan mouths, pointing to his chin.

“Oh, little drool?” You mock, getting up to hit him with the pillow hard. He chuckles, fighting you off.

You push his shoulder off, shuffling into the kitchen. You turn to see Eddie moving around the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich. “Hi baby!” You greet him, reaching out for him.

“Oh, hi baby.” He says, following up with an air kiss. He breaks into laughter at your scowl. “Sorry, you don’t want this grease on you. It smells terrible and it’s not fun to wash off.”

“But there’s no grease on your lips.” You point out, staring at those pretty pink lips of his.

“Baby, I cannot kiss you without touching you and there is grease all over my hands.” He chuckles, holding them out.

You want to point out that he’s getting things dirty with grease in the kitchen, including his sandwich, by his own logic, but you have a feeling you won’t get away with it very easily. “Fine. Come see me when you’ve had a shower then.” You tell him, attempting to waddle back to the living room.

“Ah, ah.” Eddie tuts, grabbing your hand. “Come with me, after I shower, I need time with you in my bed.”

“In your bed? Or, in your bed?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing suggestively at the second option.

“If you didn’t know the answer by now, clearly I haven’t done my job right.” He says in a lowly, his eyes darkening in an instant.

Eddie turns around to the sandwich he made as if he hadn’t said a word, grabbing it quickly before tugging on your hand to take you up the stairs.

He hops into the shower, you scroll through your phone on his bed as you wait, somewhat impatiently, your panties already uncomfortable from his stroll into the house in his work uniform.

Fuck, he was hot. You thought about him. His muscles, the slight glisten of sweat, and your phone was tossed aside before you even realized your hands were roaming over your body. You close your eyes, the image of him busy at work on his back on one of those…rolly things in your head. His forearms flexing, the look of concentration on his face.

Your hands itch for your center and you can barely hold back anymore, thankful you opted for a pair of stretchy shorts. Your fingers graze your center easily, rolling around in small circles as you picture the easy access his coveralls would give you, showing up with a dress and no panties and just riding him in his office. Fuck, maybe you wouldn’t even make it there. Goddamn, the images were too hot, your panties finding their way around your ankles as you grind up against your own fingers.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes fling open to see your boyfriend in his towel. You were so wrapped up you didn’t even notice the water from his shower turn off. He’s staring, open mouthed and eyes dark, and Jesus… This was a fantasy of yours from the beginning. You continue, staring half lidded back at him, hand grabbing up at his bed frame when it started to feel so fucking good.

Eddie’s towel drops when his brain catches up, jumping into his bed to lay next to you. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?” He asks, and you let out a whimper as he lightly kisses your neck. “Just couldn’t fucking wait.”

“You were so hot—” you gasp out, moving faster on yourself now. “—in that goddamn uniform. Wanna…wanna ride you in it.”

The very indication that you were playing with yourself because you found him that hot in his uniform is too much for Eddie to process. He nearly moans, leaning for another kiss on your neck. His hands are itching to help you, itching to take off the rest of those clothes that hide your gorgeous body, but he holds back, needing to know more about it. “What—what were you thinkin’ ‘bout, baby?”

“You, in the uniform…” you tell him, your hips starting to move when your want grows. Why isn’t he helping?

“C’mon, baby. I wanna touch you but I just gotta know.” Eddie tells you, his voice gruff.

A gulp moves through your throat before opening your mouth to tell him. “Your dick out of the uniform, and me with no panties and a dress at your shop, riding you anywhere…your office, the rolly thing, god, just you in that uniform…Ed…”

Goddammit, was that an idea Eddie certainly had before. He has wanted to show you around his workplace, but also christen it with you, and he had had the exact idea with his uniform and you in a dress, to boot. “Fuck, my horny, eager little slut, hey?” Eddie asks, watching your closed eyes as you continue to work yourself.

“Please…please touch me?” You ask him, the torture of his voice there but not actually helping you is too much. “Want…want you.”

“Hmm. Horny little slut didn’t wait for me…I dunno if she even deserves my help.” He bluffs, wanting nothing more than to reach out and feel the slick of your wet pussy.

You nearly cry out in protest, not calling him on his bluff. “I’m sorry, couldn’t help myself…you’re just so…fuck…you’re so fucking hot, Ed.”

He leans in to kiss you and you accept it gratefully, a smile against his lips. As his lips move against yours, deepening the kiss to easily work his tongue against yours, his hands land on yours against your pussy delicately, gently pulling your fingers to the side. He slides a digit in and you whimper into his mouth, your hips thrusting up. “Oh, so fucking desperate.” You nod your head, agreeing with him. You’re desperate for more. Even with Eddie on your mind, your fingers never even compared to his.

He leans into your neck, the scent of his aftershave and body wash strong but oh-so-goddamn good. He slides your shirt up your torso smoothly with his free hand and pulls it from your neck fiercely. You feel his hand somewhat desperately go around your back to unhook your bra, and as it falls casually over the edge onto the floor, he moans at the sight of your exposed tit, your nipple just begging to be touched.

He leans in to mouth the bud, and you whimper at the sensation. He pauses, breathing heavily and open mouthed onto it. You gasp, his hot breath sending waves down your body. “Fuck, so pretty.” Eddie mutters to himself, dark eyes watching your face as you get closer.

A desperate hand of yours tugs him up to your face, desperate for more of his wet and hypnotizing kisses. “Fuck me.” You gasp, suddenly feeling that his fingers weren’t enough. “Need…need your cock. Please.”

Eddie’s mouth opens at the prospect of you simply begging for him, and you can feel a shift in his energy as he starts to kiss you deeper and hungrier. “When you beg so sweetly, how could I possibly say no?” He hums, his hand framing your face.

He finishes yanking the last of your pants off your ankles. As he settles himself in between your legs, he can’t help himself. He leans down, taking one long lick along your folds, for just a taste. You whimper in response, knees springing up to your chest. Eddie chuckles, crawling up slowly until his chest lines up with yours, the tingle of him against you too much to handle. Slowly, he moves into you, and as he stretches you open, your eyes roll back and your toes curl. Eddie watches the utter bliss that takes over your face.

“Oh that beautiful face you make, sweetheart.” He grunts, smoothing his hands over your forehead. His words make you pulse around him. “This fucking tight little pussy wrapped around—” he stops, grunting as you continue to pulse around him. One hand moves down to your hip, caressing it softly he uses the leverage to buck into you.

A hushed swear comes out of you, the simple pleasure from his cock alone sending you into euphoria. Eddie continues slowly, enjoying every inch of your heat around him. “Your pussy…god how did I live without it?”

You clutch onto him, staring up into his darkened brown eyes. You open your mouth to respond in kind, but the particularly harsh rut into you leaves your mouth gasping open and your eyes fluttering shut in pure heaven. “Oh, that’s it.” He mutters, hips moving faster. “That’s my cock-drunk little whore.”

Your nails scratch down his back, and he moans in response. “Eddie, your cock. There’s…I…please.”

“I-I know, baby. I know.”

He collapses onto your chest, and you feel his cock twitch into you as your orgasm takes over your body. His hand carefully sweeps your sweaty forehead as he watches you recover, your eyes losing their haze as you return to earth. “Hi.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Hi.” You smile. For once, he does take his dick out of you right away, despite your protests. However, you can’t protest any further when he comes back and wraps his arms around you with his chest pressed against your back, his still steadying breaths lulling you into a quiet nap.

Somehow, you know that his arms are always going to be the best place in the world.

-

About an hour later, you’re snuggled against his side, legs intertwined as Eddie watches his show and you work on a crossword puzzle. “What’s a six-letter word for angry?” You ask him, stumped for a good minute.

“Uh…grumpy? Heated? Hmm…raging?”

“Raging! Fuck, I couldn’t get that one. Thanks, baby.” You tell him, receiving a kiss on the head as a response. “Why’d you go in for work, Ed?”

“Other than making my baby horny?” He jokes, muttering it into your hair. “Well, one of my best-known clients called and my men know that when he calls, they need to call me in, because his car is just—” he cuts himself off, holding out the OK sign. He continues talking about the mechanics/politics of handling a car like this in his job. The caliber, the horsepower, the specialized engine, and everything else.

It’s not like you know a whole lot about cars. Most of what he is saying comes out as gibberish. But you listen to him, watching as he gets more and more animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he excitedly explains his morning. You watch him, a soft smile creeping up your face as he describes…what, you weren’t even sure, to you.

He stops as he notices the peculiar look on your face, your eyes glazed over. “What?” he asks, wondering if you caught even a word of his story.

“I love you.” It comes out before you even realize. But it’s true.

With your whole chest, you love him.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he looks at you like you had placed each star in the sky just for him. Because you did. “I-I’ve been wanting to say that to you since I first saw you.”

His words feel both impossible and like they make the most sense in the entire world. Because since day one, you have been captivated by him in every sense imaginable. Taking the time to get to know, see and love every inch of him before recognizing that yes, this is love.

This all occurs to you within a second, because Eddie’s hand is framing your face and you feel his lips on yours, deep and caring to a point that takes your goddamn breath away. Your tongue collides with his, and his fingers are so gentle as they cradle your face it barely feels like he’s holding it. He tastes so good, like the air you breathe is suddenly useless, and all you need to do is breathe him. His fingers intertwine in your hair, he gasps as his forehead collides with your own, clinging onto you for dear life.

“Will you say it?” You ask, realizing he still hasn’t.

“I fucking love you.” He says in a low, soft voice. He uses a hand to force you back and you open your eyes to look into his beautiful brown ones. “I love you.”

Your chest inflates rapidly, like all the emotion just bursts into it. A giggle escapes your lips, the smile on your face seeming to be permanently etched there. He tugs you into the tightest hug, and you feel his heart beat rapidly against your own as your arms fling themselves around his torso, burying your head in his neck.

God, it’s like you fit perfectly there.

He slouches down, ignoring the book you dropped and the forgotten tv show, and lays you down, chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you as you curl into his chest. He nestles his nose into your hair, breathing you in, feeling the breath, the life in you as you breathe in sync with him.

Any sense of time, responsibilities, or the outside world become muted and pale in comparison.

It’s just you and him.  

-

The sizzling sounds of bacon for dinner mixed with Eddie’s humming to some oldies fill the kitchen. Every time he turns around from the stove to grab something, he shoots you a smile that captivates his face, something that you wholeheartedly return each time. The acknowledgement that this is love somehow didn’t feel like it had tied you to anything or that any new expectations were put on either one of you. You simply want his company and he, yours.

You scroll through your phone absentmindedly, though the sight of his hips in his low sitting sweatpants are much more enticing than anything your phone’s algorithms have to show you. Playfully, Eddie keeps dancing a little too hard to the music, head banging and swinging his hips to even the softest of Dad Rock.

God, it’s Heaven. As Eddie serves up a few plates, Dylan comes down dressed in one of his better date night outfits.

“Ooh, hot date?” You ask him, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

Dylan’s brows furrow, stopping mid stride. “Yeah. Not talking to you about that. You’re still my ex. And you’re still seeing my dad. Weirdo.”

Eddie sends a glare his way, eyes darkening in a split second. Dylan rolls his eyes, sneaking around him to grab a bite of bacon. Ignoring it, Eddie places a plate in front of you with eggs, bacon and toast, and you thank him as he leans in for a kiss.

“Love you.” Eddie mutters, and you smile into his lips and feel him do the same.

“L-love?” Dylan spits out, his voice exasperated. He shakes his head, still chewing on the bacon. “Fuck right off.”

“Dyl.” Eddie starts, leaning forward as he takes a bite from his toast. He has a devious smile on his face, chewing on his idea. “Quiet. The adults are talking.”

If you had expected something out of pocket, it certainly wasn’t that.

The brown eyes Dylan shares with his father widen in pure exasperation. “What?? Dad, I’m six months older than her!”

You barely keep in the laughter that bubbles out of your chest. Eddie grins at you and lets out his own chuckle. “That’ll teach you to be an ass, huh?”

Dylan doesn’t respond, just grits his teeth and yanks one more piece of bacon before leaving through the front door.

-

Dylan Munson got dealt a dirty fucking hand from whoever the fuck is in charge of this shit.

It was only a mere nine weeks ago when you made your way across the mixer to say hi to him that he thought things were going his way. The more he saw you, the more he thought that this had to be leading to something. It made sense to him, but as he had started mentioning long term plans or anything of the like, he could feel you clam up. Every time he mentioned something requiring commitment, your shoulders tensed up, your face winced by only a smidge, but when it became a regular occurrence, Dylan realized you might not have been ready as you thought you were.

He was willing to accept it. So, he took matters into his own hands. Honestly, he would’ve been fine paying the daily fee for parking, but he knew his dad was there, and he was excited to introduce you to him. Boy, what a shit show that turned out to be.

As he woke up to an empty bed, he had expected you to be downstairs. Instead, he was faced with a bowl of cereal without the milk, and he couldn’t tell how long it had been there. He searched the whole house. Your bag, clothes, and shoes were still there, so he knew you couldn’t have gone far. Turns out, he was right. You didn’t. You went two doors down from his own.

The sight of you and his fucking dad in the white sheets was already too much to bear, and then the stab of betrayal from his own father hurt more the initial shock of yours, tugging angry tears from his eyes as he ran to his room. The torture of hearing your whimpers, a sound he knew well, while downstairs trying to cheer himself up was fucking brutal.

When you finally left, his dad came home with a terribly apologetic look on his face as he walked through the front door. Dylan refused to hear a damn word out of his mouth, dismissing all his claims of ‘holding back as long as he could’ and ‘I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.’ Shit just hurt.

A day later, Dylan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He screamed at the top of his lungs, the anger finally kicking in. His dad did yell back, but mostly at the choice words aimed at you. It hurt for a moment, as it felt like he cared more about someone he had met last week, his (now ex) girlfriend.

When you and his dad showed no signs of slowing or stopping any time soon, he realized this would become a new normal. Didn’t mean he liked it.

He came home after a relatively long day at work to you and his dad sitting and watching a movie comfortably. His knee jerk reaction was to swear angrily, but the look on your face stuck with him. You had never relaxed with him. You were always looking around corners or there was some part in your body unable to lean into him completely.

As you apologized awkwardly on his bed, his hurt finally felt acknowledged by you, and fuck, he needed to hear that he didn’t do anything wrong. He genuinely started to wonder if he did.

Most of his nights he spent going out, his friends asking where the hot new girlfriend he was bragging about now was. He just said you cheated on him and it was over and they called you a bitch and moved on.

Yes, even Ethan. (The one friend you actually liked)

He drowned his sorrows in alcohol, always making his way back to the house where his ex was expected to be at any given time. God, it was so shit.

After your apology, though, he had to admit, you looked good together. It seemed like his dad’s smile just hadn’t left his face for days, and goddamn, was it annoying to admit that you were good for him. That remaining anger seemed to itch at him, unable to forgive or forget, a buried hatchet with an X to mark the spot.

Ethan eventually brought his girlfriend to boys’ night out, which was met with disgruntled groans from the collective group. Ethan’s girlfriend invited a friend who would be joining, and Dylan fought hard not to roll his eyes.

An hour into the night, a drink, and a few good dances in, Ethan’s girlfriend brought her in, and Dylan stopped dead in his tracks. Okay, no one said she would be fucking gorgeous.

If Dylan thought you were out of his league, then Maya wasn’t even playing the same game. His heart pounded out of his chest, and he knew he had to grab this girl a drink and get her number, now. As he pulled into an easy conversation with her, the hairs stood on his arms as it felt electric just being near her.

Maya met his enthusiasm, agreeing to a date within the first hour of conversation with him. One of his buddies mentioned Dylan had been cheated on by his most recent girlfriend, and Maya was floored. If any girl was lucky enough to have him, how could they even think of cheating?

As Dylan rode home in the backseat of his friend’s truck, drunk on her undivided attention and, well, plain ol’ drunk, something his dad had said came to mind. “I can’t explain it, I just had to know her. In every sense of the word.”

He felt the same way about Maya. Everything about her drew him in. Her smell, the way her jeans hugged her hips, the shine of her red hair. God, she was fucking beautiful.

As he smelled bacon on the way down the stairs, he decided to grab a piece on his way out to his first date with Maya, jitters galore. You asking him about the date was kind, but still too weird for him to gush about the gorgeous girl from the bar he met when that ‘gorgeous girl’ was once you.

Love you, his dad said. The word struck him, it occurred to him he doesn’t truly understand how much you and his father cared for one another. The L word didn’t come easily to Munson men, after all. Dylan walked to his car, disgruntled as the interaction rolled over in his mind.

What a mess he would be bringing her home to, if he ever got lucky enough.

-

Since you worked the next day, you had to go home for the night. The lingering kisses at Eddie’s door were too much to bear.

Too much for Eddie, too. You get a text about twenty minutes after you get home, Need you.

You grit your teeth, you need him, too. Working four days in a row sounds manageable, at least it usually does. Without Eddie to come home to or to wake up with, it’s nearly torture. You ignore Skylar’s comment of codependency. Fuck co-dependency, it isn’t that you depend on him too much, you just need him too much. You need to come home to him, to sit and watch tv with him… It’s the domestic bliss you miss.

Somehow, just reading a book at the end of the night without his even breaths has you on edge. You shoot him a text letting him know you’d be there soon.

As you walk through the doorway of Eddie’s house, he welcomes you and you hop into his arms, inhaling his shampoo as soon as you get close enough to, his familiar scent bringing you an indescribable feeling of safety.  “Need you to stop leaving for so long.” He mutters, feeling nearly crazy for missing you so much while you were gone.

You hum in response, staring into his pretty eyes as they stare down at you lovingly, resting your chin on his chest.

“Move in with me.” It’s impulsive.

You blink, unable to register what he just said. “Uh, what?”

He chuckles, hoping the stunned look on your face is a good thing. “It’s stupid for you to keep moving back and forth between here and your apartment all the time. Move in with me.”

It’s a tempting offer. Could you do it? Realistically, could you bring your things in, set up your skin care routine in his bathroom, have a horde of snacks at your disposal, bring Bethany over for sleepovers…is it possible? He watches as you think it through, and his heart skips a beat as he watches it falter. “I-I can’t. Not yet, at least.”

His head tilts curiously, eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm?”

“I’m still tied to my lease for another three months.” You can’t abandon Sky, not after all this time. “Skylar would be pissed if I just up and left her to either scramble for a new roommate or for a new apartment.”

Was that it? “Oh,” Eddie says, relieved. “I can pay that.”

His answer momentarily stuns you, and a gorgeous laugh escapes his lips as he takes in your slack jaw and wide eyes. “W-what?”

He leans in, kissing your lips sweetly. “Sweetheart. I’m not gonna wait another ninety days when I can just pay it now and get you here tomorrow.”

“You’ll pay my half?” You ask, eyebrows raised, a light smile on your face.

“What’s your rent?”

“1800 for the apartment, we both pay 900 plus utilities.”

He does the quick math. “Oh, so 54 (hundred) to buy the lease out? Yeah, I’ll pay it. Might relieve Sky from being pissed at me for stealing her roommate.”

The casualty of his words drench your underwear, his urge to take care of you sending a heat to your center you can’t explain. You lean in, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, showing your appreciation. “Can-can we go upstairs?” You ask him, out of breath.

Eddie smiles, taking in your lust-blown eyes and slack expression. “You know that’s not why I offered, right?”

The overwhelming happiness bubbles up from the inside and you shoot a wide smile up at him, chin resting on his chest again. “I know. Still, baby. Want you. Please,”

Eddie smirks, framing your face with his thumbs lightly. “When you say it so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”

You tug him by the hand and start running up the stairs. A yelp echoes through the house as Eddie grabs at your ass near the top, and when he lies down on the bed, you can’t get his cock down your throat fast enough.

-

To say the least, Sky couldn’t find it in her to be angry. She was going to miss you, more than she could describe as her roommate. She also had a three month warning to find a new roommate or a new apartment and had ample time to put at least some money aside while she didn’t have to pay for rent. She really had nothing to complain about. Still, she was gonna miss you.

As soon as the lust of him offering to take care of you died down, you went into overdrive, remembering how stressed you were when you had to move in your current apartment, a lease you’ve renewed twice now. You started making a list of things you needed, working between your phone and a random spiral notebook you found in a junk drawer. How many boxes did you need to get? If you used both Eddie and Dylan’s trucks how many hours would it take to move down the stairs-only building you had?

“What’re you working on?” You hear his voice over your shoulder.

“Oh, just working out the kinks of moving. My car won’t be enough, I’ll need your guys’ trucks to help. I also have my own furniture to worry about. The entertainment center is hers, but the couch is mine. My dresser, my bed, my bathroom shelf, all my bathroom junk—”

“Baby.” He interrupts you, a hand sliding up to your neck. “Relax. I can hire someone to take care of all of this for you. Just focus on packing your things and directing the men around on where to put them.” He places his hands delicately beneath your chin. “Ok?”

Fuck, you might just blow him again.

“Ok.”

And you did just that. You shared your list to Eddie’s phone, who called a smaller moving truck with three men to assist, hired an organizer to assist in organizing what you do or don’t need and who will handle selling your furniture, and finally, paying the rest of your rent to your front office without blinking an eye to get you out of the lease.

Soon, you were on the driveway on a hot day, watching as all the boxes containing your clothes, shoes, makeup, and other junk went up the stairs to Eddie’s (and now your) bedroom, a few staying downstairs.

He stands next to you in a white muscle shirt with a band you don’t know pictured on the front and some sweats, hands on his hips as he watches the movers go back and forth between the house and the truck. He radiates authority, each mover couldn’t be much older or younger than you, but they all look to him with respect, all of their words followed by the word ‘sir’.

“Sir, huh?” You ask, teasing him.

Eddie slightly grimaces, rejecting it. “Yeah, they insisted.”

“Dunno, kinda suits you.” You tease, and you walk back to the house, missing the audible gulp that comes from his throat, imagining it. You, on your knees, begging for him, calling him sir…

“Sir?” One of the movers asks, getting his attention. He flicks back, seeing the clipboard held in front of him. “Need you to sign.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” He mumbles, picking up the pen to sign.

As he signs his name, Dylan pulls up, taking in the men, the truck, the boxes on the floor visible past the open front door. “She’s moving in?”

Eddie looks at him, apologetic. He had asked you yesterday, and since then, he hasn’t had time to sit down and tell Dylan in person. “Sorry, bud. Kind of just happened all at once.”

Dylan thinks of his new girlfriend’s apartment, the night he had just spent wrapped up in her sheets. “I-I get that.”

Eddie blinks, expecting more of a push-back. “So, dad. I met this girl.” Oh, that explains it. “She’s…” the smile that lands on Dylan’s face is peaceful, and Eddie feels both curious and reassured. “Anyway. I wanted to bring her over for dinner to introduce her. Is that okay?”

A firm hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, bringing him for a hug. “Of course, bud. When did you want to bring her over?”

“Friday at 6?”

It’s Wednesday, so that gives you both ample time to unpack and get the house ready for a dinner guest. “Friday works. Bring her over.”

“Hey, do you guys need any more help with the boxes?” He asks, running into the house.

Eddie doesn’t answer as he stands, stunned at the change in his son over the last, what, week?

The next two days make Dylan realize although he was in a much forgiving mood, he’s going to need to move out and fast. Just when he thought the two of you were bad, he didn’t realize how much worse you’d be when you moved in. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t see it coming.

Soon, he texted a friend he knew who was looking for another apartment about maybe moving in together after realizing your moans were not coming from your bedroom as he grabbed his keys and booked it for the front door.

You were on Eddie’s laundry room floor, wrapped in his arms, with only your shirt around your torso and his hair halfway out of its ponytail. You were still in the middle of recovering; Eddie edged you twice before finally letting you finish. “Did you hear the front door close?” Eddie asks, still breathing heavily as he does.

“N-no.” You gasp, moving your head up to face him, his chest hair tickling your chin. “Were we that loud?”

Eddie laughs, letting a thumb pet your face lightly. “Have you ever tried to be quiet, sweetheart?”

You shut him up with a kiss, slippery, but filled to the brim with everything you had. “Shut up.”

“I love you.” He mutters as you wrap yourself in his arms, and you whisper it back into his chest. “We do have company coming over, so we should probably finish unpacking.”

You groan lightly, but Eddie takes your hands and forces the two of you onto your feet, your knees lightly buckling. “I have so much stuff! There’s so much left to unpack.”

“Oh, I’m sure unpacking yourself into the second half of the walk-in is so hard, baby. C’mon, I’ll help you out.”

Again, Eddie’s house looks humble from the outside, but it was nothing to snark at. As he made more money, he slowly upgraded and renovated instead of just moving into a bigger house. The one upgrade that wasn’t really for him, but a constant reminder of what he lost, was the his-and-hers closet he had made for his ex, something she only enjoyed for six months before leaving him. He was excited to see your dresses, skirts, pants, and underwear in his closet, and especially your smell. Basically, he was excited for your invasion of the house.

You walk over to his–your–room where there are still boxes sitting, waiting to be unpacked. You start unpacking the one labeled dresses/skirts. As you start laying out a pile, separating the skirts you knew you weren’t gonna wear from the ones you would, Eddie sidled up beside you, pulling one you knew looked good on you up from the pile you weren’t gonna wear. “Hey, hey. Why haven’t I seen you in this one?”

You hesitate in your answer, pulling two more dresses out before answering. “Dylan fucked me while I wore that.” You admit, and he drops it immediately. He pulls another one up, hands moving over the silky blue fabric. Damn that one looked great on you. “That one, too.”

He drops it unceremoniously, hands moving to his hips. “Which ones hasn’t he touched you in?”

You put your hands on the much smaller, less appealing pile. “These.”

Eddie sighs, scratching his head. “Alright. We’re going shopping.” He announces, placing the pile of your old ‘rejects’ onto the floor.

“Huh?” You ask him, not sure you heard him correctly.

“Yep. Just leave all the clothes in a pile right there, and on Saturday I’m taking you shopping.”

“Baby, I work Saturday.”

“So call in.”

After Eddie helps you settle in for the next day and a half, you spend a good portion of your Friday in the kitchen, working in tandem to make supper together. You place plates at the dining room table Eddie and Dylan barely used, straighten up the napkins and the utensils when Eddie comes from behind you, and you feel his cock press right up against your ass. You grind back into it, closing your eyes and whimpering.

“Ed, they’ll be here in like,” you let out a sigh, “half an hour.”

He turns you, giving you a dirty kiss and gripping your hips harshly. “Then we better get moving.” He slips your dress up your hips and your underwear down.

“Hmm…take off your pants.”

He slips his cock in, bending you over the table, making you gasp. “Already off, baby.”

-

Dylan pulls up in his truck, now having to park in the same spot you did in the street since you took over his spot on the driveway. “So, this is my house.”

“For three more weeks?” Maya asks, teasing him.

He lets their hands intertwine, leading her to the door. “I did grow up here.”

“Yet your dad is kicking you out.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“No, not kicking me out…” He drifts off, when Maya’s green eyes silently ask him, he dismisses it. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.” He unlocks the front door, and as soon as it’s open, a very peculiar, very annoying sound is heard echoing in the house.

“Fuck, Ed, oh shit.”

Maya’s eyes go wide, it takes her a second longer to understand what they were listening to than it did for Dylan. Dylan shuts the front door, shoving his hand into his pocket for his phone. He dials his dad right away. “…Hello?” Eddie asks after three rings.

Dylan puts him on speaker. “Dad, wrap it up, we’re here.”

“Shit, sorry. Give us five—” the sound of your giggles interrupts him, “sorry, ten minutes. W-we’ll call you.”

He hangs up.

Maya’s face is the picture-perfect expression of what the fuck. “Dyl, when you said your family dynamic is odd…”

“I meant it. C’mon, let’s go for a walk to the corner store.”

Maya is taken aback, but she easily falls in line as Dylan holds his hand out for her. “Can’t believe the first thing I heard from your dad was that.”

“Darling, I have never meant it more than I have right now.” Dylan assures her, and she can see how much he means it in his brown eyes. “My dad has met my girlfriends in worse situations. Just be glad we didn’t see anything…’cause that was not coming from their bedroom.”

-

Eventually, you had to go upstairs to find a new dress to wear, Eddie having completely soiled it during your tryst as he phoned Dylan to let them know they were in the clear. Turns out, the two of you had time blindness when it came to one another, because neither of you were even close to done when Dylan had called.

As you climb down the stairs, there’s a knock on the door, and Eddie meets you there in time to open it to face Dylan and his new girlfriend. It was an intriguing feeling, opening the door to Dylan while Eddie’s arm was behind your back. Like a couple welcoming their son home. It was…bizarre to say the least. “Hey, sorry about—”

“It’s fine, dad. Rather not talk about it.” Dylan insists, his arm around a pretty redhead.

“Sure. Come on in.”

They step in, Maya taking a look around at the place as she does. “Maya, this is my dad and his girlfriend, Y/N. Guys, this is Maya.”

You weren’t used to Dylan being suddenly so cool with you and Eddie being together. He’s never out loud said that you were his dad’s girlfriend before without rolling his eyes or gagging. Whatever he had with Maya seemed to bring him some peace.

Thank god, you didn’t know if you could handle more eye rolls from Eddie’s 25-year-old teenage son. “Maya! Nice to meet you.” You hold your hand out to her, which she accepts graciously.

You remember meeting Eddie as a father to Dylan, and while your thoughts were occupied, whatever you were expecting for Dylan’s dad, it certainly wasn’t Eddie. You could see it clear in her face she wasn’t expecting this metalhead, either.

“Hi, Mr. Munson, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand to Eddie, and Eddie just about loses his mind.

“Ew. Don’t. Call me Eddie. Please.” Eddie gags, the same reaction he had when you addressed him that way when you first met.

“Oh. Sorry. Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles back, purposefully dressing himself down as a parental figure. You could tell he was poising himself differently for them. Whether it was self consciousness over the last time he met a girlfriend, or making it clear to Dylan he had no plans for a second contender, it did the job.

“Alright, the dining room is this way.” You extend your hand out down the hall, leading the way out of a somewhat awkward situation.

The four of you sit at the table, both men at the heads of the table while you and Maya sit across from one another. Eddie picks up the salad bowl, plating himself quickly and handing it over to you. “So, Dylan. Tell us how you and Maya met.”

They both start the story, eager to share. “Oh, can I tell, Dyl? You always get to.”

“Fine by me.”

Maya giggles softly before facing you and Eddie. “Well, my best friend sort of ditched me to tag along to guys’ night, and I refused to be ditched, so I got myself ready and ended up being fashionably late. When she invited me, I was already done for the night, pajamas and all but I got dressed up out of pure spite.” You chuckle, that’s something Bethany would do. “I got to the club, and suddenly I saw Dylan, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the night.” She looks over to him, her eyes soft and her pink lips in a sweet smile. “He just drew me right in. We talked for so long we didn’t even realize it was time for last call.”

“Wow.” You comment, taking the last bowl in rotation from Eddie’s hands, the stir-fry vegetables. “Sounds like you guys have a great connection.” You look at Dylan at the last word, hoping he receives your message.

“Oh, we truly do.” Maya grins, Dylan shooting a wink at her in response.

Eddie grabs your hand under the table, and you hold it, petting at the tough skin and colliding with his rings.

“Our first date was incredible.” Maya mentions off-hand but doesn’t elaborate. If it was anything like your first date with Eddie, you knew better than to pry further. “So Dylan told me how you guys met, tell me about that.”

You and Eddie share a look of surprise at how casually she mentions it. You weren’t expecting her to know yet, in fact you were wondering if Dylan was going to tell her at all. Eddie lets out a chuckle. “A shitshow, let’s just say. When Dylan found us, it just became real messy in here.”

Unfortunately, Eddie missed the continuous waving Dylan was doing across the table to stop, please!

“How would meeting online make things messy?” Maya asks, the story Eddie had just told her and the story Dylan explained not exactly lining up.

“What?” Eddie asks, now unsure himself.

Your hand meets your mouth in understanding, facing Dylan with his head in his own hands. “Baby, I don’t think he told her, yet.”

“Nope.” Dylan musters out, annoyed.

“Oh.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Maya asks, watching everyone’s facial expressions one by one.

Dylan sighs, not ready to explain this part. “They didn’t meet online. Remember, my ex? The one who cheated on me?”

Maya rolls her eyes. “Of course I remember that bitch.” She says, giving you a look that says, ‘am I right’.

Dylan sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Uh, Maya?”

“Hmm?”

“That’s her.” He says, pointing to you. “She cheated with my dad.”

Maya looks at you, dumbfounded, as you wave with a tight smile on your face. Being called that cheating bitch behind your back was certainly a new development from him. Not the…greatest feeling in the world. She looks to Eddie, who isn’t smiling, somewhat insulted on your behalf, but gives a friendly wave nonetheless.

“O-oh.”

“I said my family dynamic is different, didn’t I?”

“I thought you meant with how young she is…”

“There’s that…and there’s this. It used to hurt me a lot more, but honestly, since I met you, I don’t really feel that pain anymore.” He says to her. “I wish we could’ve had this conversation in private, but I guess I didn’t warn them.” A new hardness reaches Maya’s eyes as she looks at you, and you’re slightly taken aback by it. “Don’t be mad at them, because I’m not anymore. Well, mostly anyway. My dad said when he met her that he had to know everything about her or he was going to lose his mind.” You look to Eddie, and he winks at you slyly as you mouth the words I love you to him. “I used to think that was bullshit… But when I met you, Maya, I felt the same way, and I realized I couldn’t blame them for pursuing it if it was half as strong as what I felt when I saw you.”

The ice in Maya’s stare all melts the gloss in her eyes. “That’s still super messed up.”

“One hundred percent.” Dylan looks over to you and Eddie, and you’re wondering if the two of you were supposed to leave the table and give them privacy. “But now…they look good together. They’re good for one another. She puts this smile on his face that I never get to see anymore, and she seems more happy with him than she ever was with me.”

Your phone buzzes in your chair under your thigh. A text from Eddie. For the record, no one feels as strongly for anyone as I do for you. No one ever will.

You look at him and he nods once, his lips in a firm line. Your hands reach for his, interlocking with his. “Maya, I know you didn’t mean to but I would appreciate you not calling her a bitch.” Eddie tells her, parent voice on. “Now that we have all that out of the way, Maya, tell us what you do for work.”

-

Maya was a peach, and she seemed great for Dylan. As she helped clear the table she asked Dylan a question and it led to him announcing he was moving out. Out loud, Eddie gave him a proud hug, telling him it was a great idea.

To you, Eddie pumped his fist in celebration. As you washed the dishes that night, insisting Dylan and Maya go enjoy a movie on the couch, Eddie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “When Dylan finally moves out, I’m fucking you on every surface in this house. I might just tell you to stay naked for easier access.” He leaves a wet kiss on your neck, and you’re left to imagine the possibilities as he adjusts himself while clearing the rest of the table.

True to his word, as Saturday dawns, Eddie wakes you up two hours before you start work and tosses your phone to call in sick for it. You text your manager at his request, and as soon as you hit send, Eddie sends you to his bathroom to get ready for a shopping day. In your first outfit, a pair of shorts and an oversized sweater, Eddie looks up and down at you exasperated and tells you to go get all dressed up and put some makeup on.

When your hands land on your hips at this he backtracks hard. “Of course you can wear what you want, baby! I just know that you love to get all dressed up, and I thought it would be fun for you. That’s all. We’re going to be trying on lots of clothes and I want my girl feeling her best.”

Okay, he has a point. An hour passes by, Eddie moving around you as he gets dressed up himself, less dramatic than his date night outfit, but dressed up all the same. As you finish, a wing on your eye, he comes behind you, looking over your shoulder for something. “You know I used to wear eyeliner all the time?”

“I…no?” You stutter, turning to face him.

“Might put some on today.” He mutters, slightly teasing you.

“If you don’t want to scare the general public, maybe we’ll save it for a date night, Ed.” You yank the pencil away from him, terrified that if you look away for one second, he’ll go overboard.

“Not even a little on my water line?” He asks, and you suddenly realize that yes, he does want some makeup for the day.

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug.

Now you walk hand in hand in the largest mall in town, starting the journey down the large aisle, leading Eddie. But eventually, Eddie ends up leading you, knowing exactly which stores he wants to go to. In the first store he takes you to, you look around the racks timidly, putting away anything you see over 20 bucks. In less than five minutes, Eddie comes by with a pile of clothes in his arms. “I’m gonna get a dressing room started, ok?” He pauses, noticing the 45 dollar dress you just put back. “Ooh, can you hand me that?”

“No, it’s too much.” You insist, looking at the large pile of clothes he has. You thought he meant like, three or four items at the most.

“I didn’t ask how much it was, sweetheart. Hand it over.” He tells you, to which you do. Only five minutes later, as you have only picked out two or three more dresses yourself, does he swing by and tug you to the biggest dressing room, the walls decorated with clothing.

“I-I’m not trying all of this on, am I?” You look around, it would take you at least an hour, and that’s if you hurried.

“Yep. And you’re showing me every piece.” He says, before closing the door on your stunned face.

“Eddie, this is way too much.”

“No complaining, just show me the first one!” he yells to you, no real bark behind his command.

The first dress you wear was a bit revealing, an open back, up to your thighs with a cowl neckline that shows cleavage. He smiles at you, leaning his elbows onto his knees in the seat offered in the dressing room. “Nice… Do a spin.” You roll your eyes, spinning for him slowly and timidly. He whistles lowly. “Man, I’m good. Next!”

He asked for a spin in everything you modeled for him until he didn’t need to, you did it for him. With each new piece, you were learning to not care if you were in a store with him, posing for him as he assessed each piece. Some you thought looked decent on you, he put in the no pile, while others you thought were a sure no, he put in the yes. He told you ultimately, it was your decision and if you felt uncomfortable, you could put one in the no pile, but he knew your body better than anyone. If he insisted it looked good, it must’ve looked good.

At the last piece you put on, he can’t seem to decide, asking an attendant for her opinion. She says she thinks the shirt looks amazing on you but isn’t sure about the style of pants. “Yeah, I chose them just to see if you’d wear it.” You shook your head no, feeling uncomfortable in the business type pants. “Cool. Get dressed in your clothes, we have more stores to hit up.” You toss the shirt to him after yanking it off, and by the time you make your way to the register, the attendant is already handing over two oversized bags to him.

“Eddie, this is enough clothes, I really don’t need anymore!” You insist as he directs you to a store only three spaces over.

As soon as you walk in, they see the big bags Eddie’s carrying and immediately offer their assistance. Eddie rolls his eyes, knowing he only ever gets the star treatment if he’s walking around with the occasional designer bag. (He likes their underwear). “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but the women’s side of our closet is huge, and you didn’t have nearly enough clothes to fill it anyway.”

Our closet. You’re so fixated on the use of the word our that you don’t realize he’s waiting for you to talk. “Doesn’t mean I need more.”

“Oh, that’s exactly what it means!” He turns to the employee who’s been following him around and hands her the bags. “Be a dear and hold on to these, will ya?” He turns back to you, resting one hand on the rack beside him and staring down at you intensely. “Baby. I want to spoil you. Let me. Please! Pick out some clothes you want, I’ll pick some out, too, and you can try them on.”

“You’ve spoiled me so much already!” You insist, gulping at the sincerity in his eyes. “You’re all I could ever ask for.”

“That’s exactly why I have to spoil you.” He retorts, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I love you. Let me show you how much. I have a stupid amount in savings. I kind of want to chuck some out just to keep me humble.”

You giggle at this, finally, fully giving in to his madness.

Madness, it is. As you go from store to store, he gets about two more bags full from each one, and you’re sure some of these outfits will never see the light of day after you see how he looks at you in them. About ten percent will just be something you put on for about two seconds before he takes it off you. He’s buying dresses he knows he’ll be the only person to ever take them off or see you in them.

At one point, he runs back to his truck to put the eight bags he got tired of carrying around away, coming back to meet you in the store he left you in. It wasn’t much of a clothing store, but you had a basket of things you were planning to buy for yourself. Earrings, a knick knack for your desk, a cute notebook and the like. (There was a shirt you found for Eddie that you got just for the hell of it.) You're waiting in line, and you’re digging through your purse for your wallet when Eddie comes behind you, wallet out, card in the machine. “I—”

“Baby. Your money is useless today. Let me.”

You roll your eyes, and the cashier’s wide eyes at his pet-name for you catches your eye, a laugh escaping you. “Yeah, sorry. Guess I forgot to mention my boyfriend is also in his 40s.” You giggle, having just gushed about how Eddie was spoiling you to him.

“What? 40s? I’m clearly in my 20s.” Eddie asks, acting offended.

The poor cashier looks genuinely frightened, holding up his hands in surrender. “He’s joking. He is. Likes to make people squirm.”

“Oh I love to make you squirm—”

“Eddie!” You berate him, yanking him out of the store as he lets out a bout of laughter. He catches his breath, still laughing as you cross your arms, waiting impatiently for him to stop.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you made it too easy! C’mon, two more stores, then we can grab food.”

“Can I pay for food?” You ask, holding his hand.

Eddie smiles, petting your hand with his thumb. “Of course.”

The second to last store he brings you to is an underwear store. Eddie lets you do all the picking, following closely behind and offering any commentary when you ask for it. For once, he doesn’t insist that you model for him, claiming that just seeing you go through the lacier drawers of panties was torture enough. You walk out with a wardrobe’s worth of new underwear, bras, and a little bit of lingerie. It was the first time you were there to see the total, your eyes widening as Eddie takes out his card.

He smirks at your stunned expression. “Oh, this isn’t even the highest bill, sweetheart.” The transaction goes through and the kind lady behind the desks offers the bags to him. “This isn’t even half of it.”

The bill was at about 700 dollars, so the very idea drove you insane that he had already collected every receipt and refused to let you see them.

He brings you to one last store, wall to wall, covered in clothes. He goes a little ham this time, and you notice he focuses on basics. Sweatpants, sweaters, shorts, and under shirts. There’s one thing he chooses that has you struggling to get the zipper up, and eventually you call out for him for help after a good five minutes of fumbling .

He opens the curtain delicately so as to not reveal anything, and you look at him helplessly as your hand can’t reach the zipper sitting low on your ass. His fingers are light to the touch, as one hand rests on your shoulder, one on the zipper as it goes up to your neck, your hair held by your hands. You can’t help the shiver that runs through you as your hair curtains down around your neck, and you turn to face him, holding your hands out to silently ask him what he thought.

What does he think? He thinks that this fucking dress looks so good on you that it would be a crime to get you to start trying on those shorts and sweaters. Hell, you knew your size, you were probably good to go. It was much less revealing than any dress you tried on, a number he’ll probably get you to wear on your next date. He couldn’t help himself, surrounded by the privacy of the small room, he leans in to kiss you sweetly, one hand going up to frame your neck. “Baby.” He mutters, his voice sounding desperate. “You look…fucking gorgeous.”

You smile into it, your hand tracing the seam of his shirt along his torso. “Thanks. Help me out of it? I still need to try on all these clothes.”

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, surprising you. A slight whimper escapes you as he backs you into the wall against a few clothing articles hanging there. “I will absolutely help you out of this dress.” He says, his voice husky and a touch of arousal lands in your underwear as you realize why. “But then I’m going to get my cock in you.”

“In-in here?” You ask, highly aware you’re in a public space.

“Mmhmm. Be quiet and no one will suspect a thing.” he says, hand slipping under the skirt of the dress to start palming at your folds over your panties. You whimper at the touch into his mouth, focusing all your energy on not alerting the kind sales lady that you were hooking up in her dressing room. “Oh, good girl, keeping herself quiet.”

“It’s…it’s hard.” You whimper, the light touches over your panties not enough, but still causing more arousal.

“So am I.” Eddie chuckles, watching your face as he teases you. He slips the hand into your panties, letting them drop on the floor. “Oh, so wet, huh?” He asks you, eyebrows furrowed as he plays with the slick on your folds.

“Mmhmm.”

“Does daddy buying all the pretty clothes make you all hot, baby?” He asks, voice in your ear and fingers rubbing at your clit gentle, but enough to start you to your destination. You nod your head, because on some level, this was a big turn on for you. “Oh, you horny little slut.”

“Good girl…” You whimper, and Eddie leans back from your shoulder. “Good girl. Please?” You ask him, the slut shaming wasn’t doing it for you.

“Oh, you wanna be called a good girl, huh? Daddy’s good girl?” You nod, your eyes closing as he starts to rub at your clit faster.

“Feels…feels good, Daddy…”

“Daddy’s gonna make you cum, and since you’re a good girl you’re not gonna make a fucking sound. Okay?” You nod, holding a whimper in your throat from the finger he slides into your heat. “Oh she’s close.” He mutters to himself, placing gentle kisses on your neck. “Fall apart on my fingers so I can fuck you, my good girl.”

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, an orgasm shaking through you as you wither against the dressing room wall.  

“Oh, that’s my good girl, such a good listener. Now, turn around and hold on to those hooks.” You do as he says, and as you brace yourself with your hands awkwardly against the hooks decorated with hangers, he zips the dress off you, lifting it over your head and nearly forgetting to muffle his own moan when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He lets his pants fall around his calves, and as his cock pushes you, you let your jaw open and eyes close, doing everything you could not to moan out loud.

He slowly bucks into you, and you close your eyes and lean against the wall headfirst while the scent of store clothes invades your senses. Soon, Eddie leans forward, forcing your torso up against his back as he places his ringed hand around you like a necklace. He kisses at the skin he can reach sweetly, eyes open as he watches your reaction to everything he does to you.

While the prospect of being caught by someone was hot, Eddie found himself watching for your visual reactions than listening for your audible ones. Hmm. He didn’t realize he had begun to rely on them. “How’s Daddy’s cock?”

“G-good.” You whisper, leaning into his chest with your head back against his shoulder.

“Gonna cum in you.” He mutters. He starts fucking into you a little harder, and it has to be perfectly timed because if he went all the way in, the sound of his balls against your pussy would be a dead giveaway.

“How’s everything in there?”

“Speak.” Eddie commands you, and you have to tear yourself from outer space for a moment.

“Great, thank you!”

“Just a reminder we try not to encourage two people in one dressing room.”

“She was just needing help with a zipper. Almost done.” Eddie pipes out, sounding relatively normal for someone seconds away from cumming.

“If you need any help or sizes, let us know.”

 “Thanks…” Shit, that sounded out of breath.

“Cum in me.” You whisper, and Eddie does just that, slowly fucking his way through his orgasm, his cheeks flushed, shirt clinging onto the sweat.

You nearly protest as he takes himself out and tucks himself back into his pants. At this point, you were so turned on you kind of wanted to blow him while you had him in the room. You hold his face in your hands and connect your foreheads. “Is it bad I still want more?” You mutter under your breath.

Eddie swears softly, his boner fighting harshly against his slacks. “Fuck. No, I do, too.” He tugs your naked self into his arms, kissing your hair softly. “But…she was suspicious. Unless we want to get kicked out, we should quit while we’re ahead.”

“Can I blow you when we get home?” You ask him, turning to grab your own clothes off the floor.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs the clothes scattered around the dressing room. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

It took multiple trips from Eddie’s truck to bring in all the bags. You truly didn’t realize how many pieces of clothing he had bought you until you saw it all scattered on the closet floor, all ready to be reorganized. Eddie starts hanging them, and you notice the outline of his cock in his slacks. He was still throbbing.

“Can I?” You ask, sitting pretty on your knees and looking up at him.

“Fuck, I’m never gonna say no to that.” Eddie answers, placing a hand under your chin.

You undo his pants, giving him a hungry look as his cock springs free. “You’re still hard?” You ask, knowing you’ve gotten food at the food court and walked around the mall a bit more before coming home.

“Mmhm.” You smile, jerking him lazily as you eye the length hungrily. You have the idea to tease him more, but the need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue is too much. Eddie swears loudly as you take him in your mouth, gripping onto the center console for accessories and underwear. “Fuck”

You slowly bob your head up and down, staring up at him through your eyelashes as you relax your throat and allow your nose to meet his stomach. His hands skim through your hair, moving your head lightly, and again, you find it ridiculously easy to submit to him.

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet, head thrown back in bliss as he feels the spit gather at his base. His stomach starts to tighten up a little bit and under your hands, his thighs are tense. Somehow it spells out to you he’s close.

You prepare yourself, moving your head faster on your own accord, opening your eyes at him again to watch for his reaction as you double down. A goddamn whimper escapes his throat as you continue, and suddenly it’s your goddamn mission to make him make that sound again. “Fuck, baby. Fuck…” Without any warning, the warm salty taste of his cum hits your tongue and you moan around him as he rides through his orgasm.

For once, as you wipe your mouth, you can tell he’s the one that needs recovery. You move to your feet, waiting for him to catch his breath. “Need some water?” You ask him, somewhat joking.

“The fuck was that?” He asks, his face in awe as he looks at you.

You give a cheeky and quick little kiss to the hand on your cheek. “Wanted to make you feel good.”

“Jesus Christ—” he tugs you into a hug, habitually kissing your hair. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Uh Ed.” You push lightly on his chest to get out of the hug, giving him a look of disbelief. You look gesture around the closet to the half of the clothes still not put away. “How are you the lucky one?”

Eddie’s face breaks into a wide smile, his dimples prominent, his smile lines deep. “You keep thinking that, darling.” He laughs, tugging you back into his arms.

As you stand there against his chest, relaxing into him with your eyes closed, the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. You put away my clothes since you know where everything goes.”

“I did design this closet.” He retorts, pointing a finger at you.

You walk down the stairs to the front door, seeing a tall figure facing away through the smart glass. You open the door to a gorgeous set of brown locks, perfectly coiffed. The figure turns around, and clearly doesn’t expect to see you standing there. “Hey, Ed- whoa.” You recognize his face, but you aren’t sure where from. You subtly fix your hair; suddenly aware you had just given head to your boyfriend. “Uh, sorry, little lady. Is Eddie here?”

“He’s upstairs in the closet. Can I help you?”

The stranger smiles kindly, and you notice the freckles on his face are like constellations. “Oh sorry! I told him I’d be coming through town, but I forgot to say when. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

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