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tacticaldiary · 9 months

Text

It All Comes Crashing Down

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

She presses the metal radio against her lips and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.

"I love you, Simon.

A/N: The classic 'bomb my location' fic you've all been waiting for! This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks, so I'm glad I finally got it out- I'm thinking about a part 2 where she wakes up and it's some extra fluff, maybe?

Masterlist

She takes a shaky breath in as her hands grip her rifle tighter, but when she speaks her voice is as steady and firm as ever.

"Bomb my location."

The words are acrid on her tongue, but they feel right to her heart. Her mind is in disarray, trying to piece together any other solution that won't have her ending up under dead under pounds of rubble, but she knows deep down that there's no other way out of this.

An entire enemy organisation eliminated at the expense of one soldier.

It was a win-win for everyone but her.

And that was alright. She's made her peace with it, made it the moment she signed her name on those documents giving her life away to the tang of blood and the scent of gunsmoke.

"Level the building." She continues, wincing at another hail of fire that rains upon her. Heavy footsteps and orders barked in Russian move around her location. Steadily being surrounded, there was little hope for a smooth extraction or escape anyway. "Have Soap blow the charges, Captain. Then send in the airship and raze this hellhole to the ground."

"Like hell we're doing that." Gaz's voice comes through her comms, frustrated. "We're not leaving her, Price." They must have rendezvoused successfully, because Gaz doesn't speak through the comms, rather it sounds as if he's turning away his head to speak to the man directly.

It brings a small smile to her face despite the circumstances. Her boys would get out of this, at least.

Simon. Her mind flashes to her Simon and she thanks whoever's above that they had split up before everything went to shit.

It had been fine at first. She was setting the charges they needed to bring the building down while he fetched the intel from somewhere else, and really, she should have been suspicious when it all went smoothly.

She'd planted the last charge before the enemy started closing in.

Like rats, they seemed to emerge out of nowhere shooting her down and pinning her until she had no choice but to slip away and barricade herself in one of the nearby rooms. The entrance and exits were likely swarmed with people and here she sat, in the heart of it all.

Unreachable, untouchable.

She sort of tunes out the muted conversation on the other end, lets the ringing on her head take over. Loud angry cursing, yelling in distinctive Scottish, the harsh rasp of her Captain telling everyone to calm down...it all floats through her mind.

Everyone but Ghost.

She doesn't hear his voice...but he was alive, wasn't he? She'd seen him slip out of the building through the window in front of her, so she knows he must have gotten out. The thought makes her gut curl up, brings her back to the present.

"Negative, Sergeant." Price's voice cuts through her thoughts, much louder than the others. "We're mapping out a route to come get you-"

"Price, it'll be suicide." Perhaps it's the way her voice softens and quiets, the gentle way she talks so different from the harsh way she's spoken earlier. It's as if she's accepted it, is content to lay down and allow herself to be swallowed by the dirt she came from. "I'm one soldier. Don't make yourself visit more than one coffin."

"I'm going to-"

"Set off the charges."

There's a beat of silence, painstaking silence where nobody speaks. Even the gunfire outside the room she's barricaded in seems to fade out for a moment.

"Copy."

A death sentence coming from the man she considered family.

It cracks a smile out of her. She squeezes her eyes shut, lets her head fall against the blood spattered wall behind her.

"Make sure my replacement's just as much a pain in the ass to you, alright?" If the way her voice breaks at the end of her last sentence is noticed, it's not brought up. "Simon's gotta have someone to push around, yeah?"

"There's no replacing you."

There's arguing. Soap and Gaz are yelling, and it's startling because she's never heard either of them shout the way they are, at their Captain nonetheless.

It's comforting to know she was cared for, even if she's about to die.

A sudden bang on her door makes her jump. Muffled Russian filters through the old wood. Someone ramming at it with something, trying to break it down.

But it doesn't really matter, does it? She'll be going out on her own terms even if they find her now.

Ghost...Simon. Where was he? If there was one thing that'd settle her mind right now it'd be hearing that gravelly voice, even if it was merely yelling at her, telling her how stupid it was to suggest what she has.

A desperation claws at her chest, deep down. She wants Simon, wants to spend the night in his bed again, wants to hug him, feel his skin, wants to see those rare smiles of his one more time.

Just once.

Just one more time before she-

"Charges setting off in 5-"

How cruel was the world?

She hopes Simon knows that she didn't mean to leave him. That she wanted him to go on without her, to not fall into the void of 'what-if's.' It wasn't his fault.

Her eyes burn but she refuses to let out the helpless sob clawing its way up her throat. She wants...she wants so much. Wants to do so much more, wants to live, and breathe and smile and laugh and experience and live. Simon. She wants to tell him so much more.

If she could go back in time and fill their silences with all the words she wants him to know right now, she'd do it in a heartbeat.

It's an impulsive decision, how her hand shoots up to grab at her radio frantically. Switching it to the private line between just the two of them, she presses the metal against her lips and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.

"I love you, Simon."

The ground crumbles beneath her, the world turns to black.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Slipping out of the small shed, he tucks the papers into his vest. For a multi-national organisation, they sure were stupid as hell when hiding their intel.

Scanning the grounds for any movement, Ghost moves out, keeping to the shadows until he reaches the edge of the field that morphed into the woods farther down.

"Intel secured, moving to rendezvous point now." He says into his comms. He frowns when he doesn't get an answer back, grabbing his radio and speaking again, casting a glance back into the foliage in the distance where he knows the others have staked their place to operate from.

Price, Gaz, and Soap were operating remotely, dealing with drones and distant detonation devices, whereas the other two had infiltrated the building separately.

Plant the charges and secure the intel. Simple tasks made difficult when they both realised that the intel wasn't in the building, but instead in the shed attached to the side of the complex instead. Splitting up had been the most logical thing to do, even when Ghost had refused at first.

"It'll be fine. Quick and easy, right?" She'd told him with a grin. "Get that intel before I'm out of the building and maybe I'll give you an extra treat when we get back." Ghost had rolled his eyes at her suggestive wink.

"Does anyone copy?" He says into the object. He's met with nothing but muffled crackling and garbled speech, tinny and indecipherable. Ghost scowls at the machine, ripping it off of his vest and turning it over. It crackles and pops with bursts of sound but nothing cohesive enough to interpret

"I-...ou...Simon"

"Fucking thing's busted." He mumbles to himself, shoving the item back into his vest, his hand brushing against the folder of intel he's successfully recovered from the shed attached to the main building.

He can spot one of the convoy vehicles near the edge of the woods, but he doesn't let his guard down even as he crosses the field towards it.

Ghost barely takes a step through the dead grass before the building behind him goes up in an explosion that makes even him unsteady with the force of it. Flames lick up the east side of the massive structure and Ghost takes a second to watch as it crumbles in on itself sending up clouds of dust and debris.

Good fucking riddance.

He's looking forward to getting the hell out of this place once he rendezvous with everyone else. This mission had stretched on for far longer than it should have, the elusive bastards slipping away through their fingers time and time again with dirty, underhanded tactics.

The foliage grows thicker as he steps into the woods, rifle at the ready. A click of a safety had him raising his weapon and spinning around immediately.

When he sees a very familiar mohawk, however, he lowers his weapon instantly. "Blue!" He says loudly, bringing up a hand to half Soap. "Just me, Johnny."

Soap follows suit and lowers his weapon, his shoulders visibly relaxing the tiniest bit. "Welcome back." He says, but something about his voice makes Ghost uneasy. "Price and...and the others are prepping exfil." He gestures towards the clearing.

"Everyone else made it back?" He asks as they push through the meager trees and into the open space where soldiers are rushing around tying up loose ends.

"Aye." Soap chokes out.

Ghost would question it, but he's too busy doing a sweep of the clearing, putting names to faces. Price and Gaz were there, going back and forth over something. It strikes him a little odd how furious Gaz looks, Price looking so resigned but he pushes it away in favour of catching a glimpse of the person he's more inclined to spot.

"We tried what we could, but she was pinned down." Soap breaks the silence, misinterpreting the reason behind his silent staring at Gaz and Price. "We didn't...Laswell's insisting immediate evac, but Gaz wants to at least find a body to bury." A bitter laugh that makes Ghost's stomach drop like a stone.

"What?"

Soap rakes a bloody hand through his hair, shakes his head, and continues on like he's in some sort of shock. "I don't want to. I think she'd rather us leave her buried there than dig out bits and pieces and bury her again." His voice cracks.

Bury...?

There's only one woman in their team.

There's only one person he hasn't accounted for in the clearing.

There's only one person he hasn't reached on his comms before they broke.

The world spins, his mind screams and falls silent, a crescendo of noise and denial. The ground shifts beneath his feet, rocking him into a state that makes him feel like he's walking on string.

"MacTavish." His words are so calm and even, it's eerie. "Is my girl still in the building?" He feels detached from himself, perhaps a way to distance himself from the pain of the implied.

Soap looks at him for a long moment, then croaks out one, broken word.

"Was."

And it all comes crashing down.

He's been through torture before. Had his skin marred, his fingernails torn off, been hung from his ribs but nothing, nothing has ever come close to the way his heart twists.

Nothing had ever made him panic in a way that has his throat closing up.

"Christ." Johnny breathes, and it's a sound that drags him back from the brink of something horrible. Soap's eyes are fixed on the empty spot on his vest that holds his radio on normal days, horrified. "You didn't bloody know." He states.

Wasting time answering is useless. Talking, speaking breathing is useless because not a moment later Ghost is sprinting towards the rubble.

The rubble that he had just watched fallen. The building he'd stood there and watched fall down, had felt pride and relief in seeing.

His gear digs into him, the air thickens with smoke and dust but he doesn't stop. Vaguely he hears people yelling after him, hears Price and Gaz and Soap and every other motherfucker who stood by and detonated the charges. Friend or foe it didn't matter to him right now. If someone dared to get in his way he'd mow them all down, grind them into nothing and keep going.

They blew the charges.

The airship would be here any minute to finish the job.

No, he'd get to her by then. Ghost slams down into the ground somewhere near where they split off. He'd find her by then, and he'd bring her back, bring her to medical and she'd be fine in a week or two.

There was no other fucking option.

The debris rakes off the fabric of his gloves, splits the skin on his fingertips as he hauls and pushes and pulls and digs through stone and metal and wood, leaving evidence of his efforts in the form of his own blood behind.

She had to be okay.

Not her. Not like his mother, not like his brother, not like his nephew.

Not her.

He digs, calls out her name until his voice is hoarse, pulls away piece after piece of rubble until his fingers are torn to shreds.

Just as he hears the sounds of incoming aircraft, he spots something that makes the knot in his chest slam against his ribcage in pure and utter terror.

It's been a while since Simon has felt fear this pure.

Hair that he's familiar with, strands that he's gripped and gently soothes his fingers through peek out from under the piece of metal he's just lifted.

Unable to breathe, his attempts at moving the earth increase tenfold. He picks off stone after stone, brick after brick until more of her body is uncovered. Still, unmoving, bleeding. Once he's gotten her top half free, he hesitates for one horrible moment because what if he looks down to see a still chest?

Steeling himself, he bites the bullet and curls an arm around her waist, pulling her out of the debris.

The relief that slams into him when he feels her shallow, breaths against his palm is almost enough to send him to his knees.

"I've got you, love." He mumbles, half to himself as he adjusts her in his arms. She's dead weight, pulse barely there but present.

Cuts and bruises, Ghost can name at least five lacerations and countless other places she's bleeding from, a broken arm, leg, and who knows what kind of internal bleeding.

Alive.

But still alive.

And that was enough because like hell Ghost was going to let the one good thing in his life slip through his fingers ever again. He'd drag whoever he needed to her aid, he'd go to hell and back just to make sure she got to open her eyes again.

With limps that ache and a heart that's heavy, he quickly moves them out of the rubble, just in time to see two aircraft circling their location. They hadn't dropped any explosives yet, which a far part of Simon's brain thinks might be Price's doing.

Uncaring of whoever was watching, because frankly everyone could fuck off right now and it would be preferable, Ghost presses his lips to her hair as he moves into the clearing with her.

"Medic!" He barks out. "Right fucking now!"

He ignores Gaz's strangled gasp, ignores the way the entire team approaches them and tries to help. Ghost is a little concerned that if he let the adrenaline that's pumping through his veins go, he might just collapse as well, and that was unacceptable at the moment.

A weak hand grasps at the front of his vest, his eyes snapping immediately to her at the movement.

"S...'mon?" She says, words so faint he barely hears them?

"I'm here." He confirms, pressing his face to her hair harder. "I've got you, darling." He whispers. "I've got you."

It soothes her, because she nods against him and lets herself relax. It's only then that Simon notices she's holding something in her good hand in a deathly tight grip.

Upon closer inspection, it's a radio.

"I-...ou...Simon"

Fucking hell. His grip on her tightens.

She'd been trying to contact him in what she thought were her last moments, and he'd never have known because his fucking radio was broken.

It doesn't matter, he tells himself, chants it over and over again in his mind. He's got her again, and like hell is he ever letting go now.

When the medics bring out a stretcher, Price has to talk him into letting her go down into him, practically ordering him to let the bloody medics do their jobs. He doesn't stray far, however, keeping a hand on her at all times. Sat next to where they were working on her in the helicopter back, never once do his eyes stray from her unconscious form.

She wakes up once or twice, whines, and fights against the medic's hands with a panic-induced haze. Every time Simon is there, holding her hand, muttering rough, soothing praise and assurances.

It calms her down immediately, the trust in those far away pain-addled eyes when they meet his is enough to make his heart twist.

Simon stays with her the entire time, and then takes residence in a seat next to her hospital bed on base, ready for when she wakes up.

Hell would freeze over before Simon would ever let them be apart again.

If that makes him selfish, then so be it.

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(12/08/2023)

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cosmos-coma · 4 months

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My Sun, My Star

A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6756

Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??

Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

________________

Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat.

You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.

“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him.

“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup.

“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.”

You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.

‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’ you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send.

“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held.

“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.

Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner.

----

Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation.

“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?”

“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again.

“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.

“SAM.”

“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”

No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.

He should’ve listened.

It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried.

“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.

“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms.

“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet.

They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten.

He should have listened.

Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung.

At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn.

“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake.

“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over.

Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.

“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”

Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him.

“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.”

Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be.

But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.

“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.

The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click.

As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.

“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend.

However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.

---

The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead.

His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.

The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence.

The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.

With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door.

His door.

Your door.

The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.

A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?

“Hmmph”

His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached.

The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise.

His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.

“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.

Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour.

With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently.

“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.

His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.

His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question.

A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.

“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.

You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.

So much for that

Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.

Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away.

With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more.

Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal.

Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body.

But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin.

His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning?

“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.

“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him.

“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better.

“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.

A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.

His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin.

“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.

But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not.

“Oh. I-”

CRASH.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere.

Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on.

Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?

“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands.

“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.

You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze,

His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way.

He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you.

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”

Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room.

“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden-

BANG.

“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet.

You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways.

Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid.

You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again.

“No…!”

A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air.

Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.

“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team.

“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.

“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again.

“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”

“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.

“Sol-”

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive.

“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive.

“I can’t do this without you…”

The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place.

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.”

A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].”

You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague.

Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you two to the tower…”

----

The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab.

Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.

“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work.

“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly.

You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.

"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.

“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.

You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.

He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.

He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?

"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.

But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."

Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."

The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.

Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.

A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.

"Yes?"

“Is it time…?”

You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.

He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?”

Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.

It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss.

But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….”

-----

You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head.

“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…”

“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”

You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.

Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye.

Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well.

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.

“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.

He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began.

You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry.

“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”

_____________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)

It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

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some-bunniii · 3 months

Text

My Charming Red Savior [2]

・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!

That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.

Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.

“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”

You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"

Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"

You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."

"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."

Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it.

You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."

Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."

You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."

Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.

At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked.

“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.

You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.

Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.

As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat.

“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.

“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”

You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned?

As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea.

Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive?

Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.

Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers.

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?”

Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head.

He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval.

You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.

His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness.

It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?

You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”

The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets.

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.”

He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.

A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation.

Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze.

“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”

The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.

“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”

Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.

“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.

You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts.

As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display.

Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.

You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.

It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men.

“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?”

The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”

The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.

“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.

“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”

“Do they have a background in fashion?”

“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.”

The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet.

“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”

The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.

“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.”

What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-

“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.

Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel?

“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.

“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.”

That couldn’t be true, could it?

Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.

“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.”

The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”

You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.

“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.”

Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip.

“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.”

He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”

As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.

“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”

You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for.

He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door.

“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view.

Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.

You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin.

Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name.

You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.

What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.

Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection.

You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.

Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him.

Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.

“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.

You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.

“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”

“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”

It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.

That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building.

“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?”

You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time?

“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”

Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.

“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person.

“You are?” He asked incredulously.

“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.”

Hopefully, he would buy your lie.

Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.

You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.

The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.

Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music.

“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!”

Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?

“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway.

Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.

He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.

“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”

He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty.

“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear.

Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.

“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon.

Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”

You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?

You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.

“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”

His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside.

Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.

“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you.

As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath.

He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.

“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.”

Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.

Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve.

“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?”

Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.

Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.

“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?

“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.

He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him.

“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room.

Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day.

You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.

Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing

“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.

“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”

He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.

You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.

Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color.

While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room.

He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull.

As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.

“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table.

You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.

“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.

“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table,

‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’

“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.”

Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.

Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll.

“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”

“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?”

You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table.

With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.

“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.

“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.”

“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.”

As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay.

“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve.

“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”

Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work.

Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.

Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.

“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.

“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”

You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric.

“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?”

You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.

The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.

“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.

‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet.

Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking?

“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.

The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace.

You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”

Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it.

“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.

You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry?

“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”

“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.”

A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring?

“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”

You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.

“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.”

Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly.

The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.

It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.

“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!”

Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.

What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.

Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you.

“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.”

“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”

Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.

“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”

‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.

Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.

“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.

You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.”

“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”

You shook your head, “no, not really.”

“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”

Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain.

The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.

“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”

“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.

Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you.

He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.

“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.

You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.

Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.

The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.

You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.

For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.

You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.

It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.

Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.

You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form.

“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.

Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.

“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.”

“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him.

“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”

You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.

“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.

You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.

This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.

“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.

Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.

“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”

His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.

“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.

He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.

It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.

Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened.

The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch.

You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.

It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.

The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.

The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.

Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.

The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.

“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!”

Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?

Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.

It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter.

Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures.

There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him.

There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.

It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.

“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion.

Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.

“Um, hi..?”

I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha

and.. hold up yall…

for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!

Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)

HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3

have a great day, my swans! 🦢

—

taglist:

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #alastor

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ryukatters · 6 months

Text

it's your fault for loving me — y. okkotsu ⁺˚⋆｡°✩

⟡ pairing: yuuta okkotsu x fem!reader

⟡ cw: /DARK CONTENT, /yandere! yuuta, /dubcon, /NONCON, ex-bf!yuuta, stalking, he breaks into your apartment, he /manhandles you (he’s strong), /implied babytrapping, /possessiveness, MINORS DNI

⟡ wc: 2.9k (someone sedate me)

⟡ song inspo: language by brent faiyaz

⟡ summary: Your ex boyfriend breaks into your apartment. What do you mean he needs to leave? He’s staying right here.

The slow, muffled drag of your feet ricochet off the hallway walls as you trudge along to your apartment. You fumble with your keys for a little bit, but find no resistance as you insert it into the slot.

“Huh, that’s odd…I could’ve sworn I locked it.”

You chalk it up to exhaustion. You're only practically ever home to sleep due to the way you've been throwing yourself onto mission after mission. Even now, sleep is a luxury you can barely afford. You kick off your shoes lazily, not bothering putting them in their rightful place on the shoe rack.

Maybe before, you would have cared more about keeping the house tidy. Or maybe before, your loving boyfriend would pamper and coddle you the minute you opened the front door, so you never had to worry about the little details like putting your shoes in the right place.

You were exhausted.

You wanted nothing more than to wash up and plop down onto your soft, soft bed. You don’t even make it to your bedroom door before you pause, anxiety prickling your nerves.

You sense him before you see him. Yuuta’s cursed energy has always had a tendency to seep out whenever he was around you. Whether it’s a testament to how he’s able to fully relax in your presence or a display of raw power, you’re not sure.

"You're home," a certain black-haired sorcerer chirps. "How was your mission?"

In the past, simply hearing Yuuta’s voice would be enough to melt away the pent up stress from a hard day of exorcizing curses. It’d soothe your aching muscles and tired soul as you let yourself be enveloped by the weight of his affection. But right now, it did everything except that.

The shiver of excitement that used to run down your spine is replaced by trepidation caused by the only person who used to be able to comfort you.

You know better than to ask how he knew you were on a mission, much less ask how he managed to break into your apartment. It seems he's been in here for a while, with the way he seems to have made himself at home on your bed, much like the way he used to before.

"Why are you here?"

The question makes him sit up.

“Because I missed you. Is that so bad?”

You want to laugh. The whole situation is all sorts of fucked up, and the two of you are talking about it the same way one would the weather.

“Yuuta, we broke up 2 months ago,” you press, vexation lacing your words. You could never imagine yourself using that tone on him. Yuuta’s always been so meticulous in loving you, in making sure you were happy. He’s never given you a reason to be upset with him. But that was then, and this was now.

You could say whatever you wanted to say. You were tired and definitely not in the mood to deal with a supposed burglar that happens to be in the form of your ex-boyfriend.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he says simply.

“You walked out on me!”

“Because I thought you needed some space. And now I’m back. But I never said we were breaking up.”

Space was an extremely generous term for what Yuuta gave you. If you could consider watching your every move from a distance, keeping tabs on who you talk to, and making sure you stay out of trouble secretly, “space.” He would never let you know that though. It’s too much, too soon.

He couldn't help it, not when his precious baby could get hurt. He’d never forgive himself if that happened.

“Come and sit, my love. You look so tired.” He pats the space next to him. You will your heart not to flutter at the familiar nickname.

Your body moves before your brain can catch up. It’s almost like listening to him was muscle memory. You pause in your step, cross your arms, and glare at him.

“Leave, Yuuta. I don’t want to see you.” The words rise from the very depths of your soul and spill out of your mouth like bile, burning and spiteful. It hurts to speak to him like this, even after he’d abandoned you with no hopes of return.

“Sit, love.” A little more demanding this time. “I’m not repeating myself again.”

The tension in the air is palpable, so thick you can cut it with a knife.

You take a seat. Yuuta doesn’t miss a beat before he has his hands on you.

“Missed you,” his hand reaches out to cup your jaw, thumb rubbing against the plushness of your cheek.

You’ve always been so soft, it’s one of the things Yuuta loves the most about you.

You flinch. Blame it on the adrenaline coursing through your body like wildfire. Your fight or flight response is shot. Yuuta’s touch seems to rewrite everything that’s been hardwired into your brain.

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple, before moving down to kiss the tip of your nose, and both of your cheeks. Each press of his lips leaves feels like it’s being seared into your flesh, a metaphorical branding iron of sorts— to show that you’re Yuuta’s and Yuuta’s only.

Your mind goes blank when he sucks a kiss into the side of your neck, whimpering pathetically as he grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin.

“We can’t do this,” you assert, but the words get stuck in your throat, so it comes out more as a whiny sigh. Your body seems to have a tendency to betray you when it comes to him.

“But we can,” Yuuta coos, pushing you down until your back is flat against the mattress. He takes both of your hands in his, lifting them up until they’re above your head, effectively pinning you in place. “We’re doing it right now, aren’t we?”

Yuuta can appear pretty unassuming to outsiders. He’s quiet, reserved, almost meek. If one were to take a closer look, however, they’d realize that beneath that unostentatious front was a more commanding aura, one that forces you to submit to his whims with his sweet tongue and sensuous touches. Perfectly calculated, perfectly executed.

"I fucking hate you,” you spit, thrashing against his hold, but to no avail.

"No you don't,” Yuuta shuts you down with conviction. Like it’s the absolute truth— the kind that can’t be twisted or broken. It almost feels like he’s chastising you for thinking otherwise. “Take that back right now.”

To be honest, hearing those words stung more than any physical blow you could have ever landed on him. Has he not shown you enough love? Or have you already forgotten?

Isn’t what you have pure love?

A hand wraps around your neck, lithe fingers inching up before they grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “I said,” blunt fingernails digging into your skin, “take it back.”

You sputter out an apology with teary eyes, an odd mix of humiliation and regret seeping into your bones, stomach swirling with shame and to your horror, a tinge of anticipation.

It’s pathetic, really, how easily you give in.

“Now give me a kiss, sweetheart.” Yuuta bridges the gap between the two of you. He presses his already throbbing bulge against your clothed pussy, moaning into your mouth appreciatively.

You feel so dizzy you think you might explode.

Yuuta makes quick work of the buttons on your uniform, releasing your wrists so he can throw the offending garment and all your underthings beneath it to some random corner of the room.

Calloused hands roam your body, squeezing and groping, as if to map out the cartography of your flesh, committing each peak and valley to memory. He watches in fascination how your skin bristles with goosebumps in the wake of his touch.

He ignores your pleading cries and attempts to push him off. Yuuta is being driven by pure instinct alone. That sick, twisted voice in his head that he’s always tried to suppress whispers. It goads him on to take what he wants, to make sure you remember that you’re his, and his alone.

He knows that you haven’t been seeing anyone. You were always so loyal, even when you were upset with him. Anyone who did try was taken care of the minute they left your sight.

It’s been far too long since he’s had you. His desire fills him with a sort of quiet rage, one that metamorphoses into something darker, more sinister and morose the longer he goes without you. Almost like a curse that’s gone far too long without feeding.

Yuuta Okkotsu loves you to the point of madness.

He thinks he might literally implode in on himself any second longer without you.

It’s almost laughable how different the two of you are. An ethereal beauty too good for this world, yet here you were in between the legs of a cursed man with too much love than he knows what to do with.

“Yuuta, please,” you cry out. You flail your legs in an attempt to kick Yuuta off. He catches both with ease, throwing them over his shoulder to slide your bottoms off, leaving you completely bare.

He can’t suppress the groan that tumbles past his lips. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers.

You’re dewy eyed and gasping, nails clawing at his forearms and beating at his chest in a last ditch effort to stand your ground. Nothing can deter him.

Yuuta could easily heal himself if he wanted to. But the angry red welts and blossoming hues of purple on his pale skin are a badge of honor of the utmost prestige. It’s undeniable proof that you’re real, that his love for you isn’t just a fragment of his imagination, and that none of this was just some pipe dream. He could take a little pain if that meant you got to be his.

He’s always been yours without any reservations.

“You can cry if you want, if it helps,” he says genuinely, but the gleam in his eyes shifts into something predatory. “But you should know you’re really fucking wet.” As if to prove a point, he slowly fucks his middle finger into your weeping hole, then his index, then his ring. They curl up to rub against that spongy spot just the way you like.

You let out a sharp gasp, spine arching off the mattress.

You tried to ignore him—detach yourself from the whole situation, let him get his fill, and be done with this whole ordeal. But it’s Yuuta— the man has a grasp on both the corporal and spiritual parts of you that you can’t bring yourself to understand. It seems like he knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. And right now, he’s managed to make a home in all five of your senses. There’s no escape. He's made sure of that.

He pulls out his fingers with a lewd squelch. A clear sheen of liquid coats every digit, stringy as he parts them to show you. He smiles knowingly.

“You keep fighting me, but it turns out you want it after all, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks burn in humiliation. Whether it’s from the situation at hand or the truth behind his words, you’re not too sure.

“Don’t you know?” Yuuta rasps, fingers going back to work their way inside you rhythmically, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice, paying special attention to how you try to mask how your face contorts in pleasure.

He presses his forehead against yours, willing you to look at him wordlessly. “I know what’s best for you. I know what you want. And right now, this little pussy wants to be fucked. Isn’t that right, my love?”

He’s met with a breathless moan. You’re so close. Tears threaten to fall as your chest heaves in exertion, trying not to teeter off the edge too soon.

You look so pathetic it’s insane. Yuuta swears he can feel his mouth water in anticipation for what’s bound to come next. He thrusts his fingers with calculating speed and precision, the heel of his palm slapping against your neglected clit just right.

He leans down right when you cum, lips catching yours as you moan into his mouth. Satisfaction swells in his chest as your slick drips down his wrist.

“You’re ready.”

Yuuta unbuttons his pants, pulling it down just enough for his cock to spring free, tip slapping his abdomen as it leaks with precum. He fists it, jerking his hand up and down his length. He slaps it against your clit once, twice, and a third time before he slips it inside your weeping hole.

Your walls spasm around his cock to accommodate his sheer size and girth, struggling a bit more than usual. You feel so full. It’s been far too long since he’s fucked you. You claw at his lower abdomen, trying to make space between the two of you. It’s all too much, all at once. Yuuta won’t have it. He slips his hands under your sweaty thighs, pinning your ankles on either side of your head, effectively folding you in half. You cry out at the stretch.

“Always take me so well, angel.”

He sets a steady pace, dragging his cock in, pulling out, and then back in with an absurd amount of force. The sound of skin on skin ricochets against your bedroom walls like a sort of cacophonous symphony. You don’t get the luxury of the sweet, slow thrusts he usually blesses you with, while he coos about how good you are for him.

“Where’s all that attitude from earlier? Am I making you feel that good?”

You glower, refusing to acknowledge the fact that your body betrays your mind— that Yuuta’s bringing you closer and closer to nirvana the further he drags you down into hell.

He slides his hand down your tummy, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Yuuta—!” You clench around his length, hurtling towards your second orgasm quickly.

“You’re so greedy. Cumming again already?”

He’s met with silence. He’ll forgive your transgressions this time around. He’ll just have to teach you how to be his good girl again.

A particularly rough thrust has you choking back a moan.

“Thought so. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Your peak hits you like a crashing wave. Your body tenses, leaving you gasping for air as you clench around Yuuta’s cock. You cry out deliriously, falling apart as Yuuta continues to pound into you. It’s too much, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. You’re stuck.

“I’m the only one that can make you feel this way, understand?” He grits his teeth, staving off his release just a little longer. He fucks you through your orgasm thoroughly as he chases his own.

He presses all of his body weight on top of you, your legs on either side of his head as he folds you into a mating press. He groans at the change in position, allowing him to fuck into you even deeper.

Realization cuts through your cloudy judgment like a sword.

“Yuuta— Yuuta, please. Pull out–!”

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. He’s rambling now, intoxicated by all you have to offer, yet you’re the one paying the price. The effects of overstimulation are taking over now, your body twitching involuntarily with each thrust.

“I’m not leaving you, ever. It’s just you and me.”

You shake your head in objection, mind too hazy to voice out any resistance. Tears well up, threatening to spill from your lash line.

Yuuta nods with a grin, canines glinting, just like a predator that’s caught its prey. “It’s true, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it. Say I’m it for you. That I’m the only one.”

“Say it.”

“You’re it for me, Yu. The only one.” You babble, tears streaming freely now.

You feel the moment he reaches his plateau— the way his dick twitches inside of you right before your walls are being painted white with splashes of Yuuta’s hot cum.

Your fate’s been sealed.

He fucks into you a few more times, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he rides out his orgasm. A white ring wraps around the base of his cock, the copious amounts of seed he’s poured into you threatening to leak out.

Yuuta doesn’t bother pulling out. In a quick show of dexterity and freak strength, he manages to flip the both of you so that your positions are switched, with you lying on top of Yuuta’s chest. The steady beat of his heart fills your mind.

Your entire body is on fire. You feel numb. You let yourself be carried away by the prospect of sleep, hoping that you’ll wake up to find that this was all just some wild fragment of your imagination.

He presses a hand against your head, like he was afraid you’d pull away and ruin whatever fantasy he’s deluded himself into believing.

The simple truth is– Yuuta Okkotsu loves you. And he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that no one else gets in the way of that.

He runs his hand up and down your bare back lovingly, admiring your spent form. You’ve always been so soft. So pliant, so willing to give in to his desires.

It’s the thing that Yuuta loves most about you.

a/n: i had to reupload bc this hellsite sucks. hopefully this shows up in the tags now

tagging @princess-okkotsu again hehe

#i do not wish to be perceived #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuta x reader #yuta x you #yuta x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #/dubcon tw #/noncon tw #/babytrapping tw #/yandere tw #/stalking tw #/possessiveness tw #kat’s writing #kat’s demon time

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tojipie · 5 months

Note

crybaby reader! but it isn’t toji who makes her upset, it’s someone else maybe some guy at her college how would toji react?

i honestly want to dedicate a proper blocked off chunk of my masterlist to this pairing :(( this is for the extreme social anxiety girlies who can only ever be around their boyfies (me)

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, severely introverted reader, anxiety

every hour spent in this class was more time to yourself to mull over why you’d let toji convince you to take an in-person course for once.

you’d gotten through college just fine these past few semesters, sitting through your lectures from the comfort of your living room. most of your school day was spent cuddled up with your back pressed to your boyfriend’s chest, where you were safe.

you liked your routine, you craved order. there was nothing wrong with doing school online, in fact, you much preferred it that way over making the infuriating commute to school every morning.

toji had liked your routine just fine too, boasting about how nice it was to have you at home. that was until you started to let yourself go, slacking off during class to make yourself snacks, take showers, and nap on the couch.

that’s eventually why—much to your chagrin— toji convinced you to sign up for an in-person course to help you get your momentum back.

you were hesitant at first, blown completely out of the water by his outlandish request.

“just one day a week,” he pleaded, petting over the crown of your head in reassurance. “just one day to get a little fresh air, make some friends. don’t that sound fun?”

“i’m not gonna make any friends,” you explained bitterly, stomach already cramping with distaste at the thought of being forced to take the time out of your day to make your commute and spend 2 hours in a 30-person classroom every wednesday. people your age were cruel, you’d learned that very early on.

you knew it was unhealthy, squeezing your bubble this tight until you and toji were the only ones that could fit in it. was it really that bad to protect your peace though? you trusted toji, and he was better than anyone at showing you how loved you were—in his own way of course.

you don’t say anything the day you press “enroll” on your school portal, feeling your boyfriend rub both hands up and down your sides in silent support. in fact, you’d secretly been the slightest bit excited at the change in scenery, ready to consider expanding that little bubble of yours.

keyword, consider. you were considering it right up until your first group assignment.

the stranger—your partner for the day, looks you up and down for only a moment, awkwardly turning to tap his friend behind him.

“switch with me,” he mutters, already grabbing his bag to leave your table with a sigh of relief.

the humiliation that settles deep within your bones is excruciating. you feel hot all over, suddenly conscious of every breath you take, how your chest shudders as you try not to cry. had he already decided he wanted nothing to do with you based on one look?

the girl he switches with isn’t much of an improvement, spending the majority of class on her phone while you work quietly on your laptop. you hear her laugh once or twice, too scared to look up and see if the giggling was at your expense.

you slink out of the room forty-five minutes early, unbeknownst to the people around you.

this was such a big mistake.

˚ ✧ ───

toji freezes the second you start to blubber into the swell of his chest, holding his thin work shirt in your quivering fists.

“what is it baby?” he whispers, bringing a large hand up to pet over the crown of your head. “you trip in the elevator again?”

“no,” you sniffle, embarrassedly wiping hot tears with your jacket sleeve. you didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t feel like enduring another wave of embarrassment lest you relive the events from today.

the older man realizes the source of your tears, choosing his next words with caution.

“didn’t like class today?” he asks, fiddling with a strand of your hair absentmindedly.

“not going back,” you mumble, untangling yourself from his limbs to set your bag down on the couch. you sprawl out on the piece of furniture, exhausted beyond belief.

you tell him what had happened in the hours prior, pausing a few times to will away oncoming tears. toji kisses away each salty droplet, mouthing at your neck to coax an unexpected fit of laughter from you.

“you send in that project yet?” he asks, thumbing at the seam of your shirt.

“not yet, why?”

“bring it here.”

you oblige, curious.

the older man flips through the slides until he gets to the title page, highlighting your “partner’s” name and clicking the backspace with enthusiasm.

“there you go sugar,” he smiles, pulling you into his lap to let you get a better look. “you’re gonna go to that class and you’re gonna get the credit you deserve, okay?”

you truly hadn’t thought of it that way, intertwining your fingers as toji submits the project for you. was standing up for yourself really that simple?

tears start to well behind your lashes for the umpteenth time that day, reducing you to mush as the raven-haired man pulls you flush with his chest.

“thank you,” you mumble. he knows what you mean without you having to explain, wishing you wouldn’t thank him for the bare minimum.

toji fiddles with each of your smaller fingers as you drift asleep against him, too overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions to stay awake any longer.

he whispers sweet promises to you as your mind walks the right rope between consciousness and dreamland, telling you how he’ll hold your hand on every walk to the train station from now until the last day of the semester.

and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this safe in your life.

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dr3c0mix · 1 year

Note

hi hii❕️❕️just recebtly started reading your work and I am OBSESSED with Dorik (yknow the demon that reader's friends and them summoned and basically caused their immediate death)

Would you please do a part 2❔️

maybe one where Dorik and the reader settle down in the reader's home❔️ (what if they sleep in the same bed and Dorik curls onto them like a cat❔️Or would he hug the reader close to him❔️、waah❕️so many options❕️)

thank you and have a good day❕️❕️💘

Demon x GN Reader pt. 2

CW: smut, somnophilia, stalker/creep behaviour, dub-con

🔥 Dorik's been with you for about a month since your little meeting. You tried your hardest to get him to leave, rituals you looked up online, holy water, rosaries, salt, everything! He finds a way to worm back into your life.

🔥 Any attempts at kicking him out of your house was met with him waiting outside your windows or doors banging and scratching to be let back inside. "What a funny prank master! You really fooled me! I won't be so gullible next time!" He'd say with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

🔥 You gave up on trying to get rid of him and accepted that you're stuck with this clingy mess of a demon.

🔥 He calls himself your loyal servant so you supposed it wouldn't hurt to have a little help around the house, considering how busy you've been, you don't have much time to clean up your house.

🔥 He was more than happy to help out! Doing the laundry, cleaning, cooking. "Anything to make my master happy!"

🔥 In return however, he's wants nothing more than your unwavering attention. Even just a light pat on the head or a fleeting compliment sent him over the moon. His tail swishing around frantically as he giggled to himself how good he's been for his master. "Master is pleased with my work! I did good today!"

🔥 Dorik doesn't need to sleep, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to! He'd ask time and time again if he'd be allowed to sleep with you in your bed, maybe even watch you? It's for protection! What if someone tries to hurt you when you're at your most vulnerable! He will not have it!

🔥 Eventually you relented, patting the side of your bed for him to lie down in, he wasted no time to make a mess of your bed, rolling around in your soft sheets and making somewhat of a nest for the two of you. It's fine though, you could ask him to fix it in the morning.

🔥 He'd pull you into a warm cuddle, wrapping his arms around you as if you were a soft teddy bear. "Master feels so soft, soft and cuddly!"

🔥 No matter how much you try to wriggle out of his grasp, he was too strong. He'd only giggle and bury his face in your hair as you squirmed under him.

🔥 If you'd wake up in the middle of the night, you'd be met with either soft purring from Dorik or his black eyes staring at you without blinking.

🔥 Surprisingly, he's a great cook. It took a while for you to trust his cooking as you wouldn't know if he poisoned it or not, but after you started to trust him, you never had to worry about buying food for yourself.

🔥 The weather grew a bit cold, and you started worrying about Dorik only having pants and nothing else, so you offered him one of your sweaters to keep him warm. He dropped the broom he was holding and took the soft clothing from your hands and stared at it.

🔥 Suddenly his eyes started watering. You placed a hand on his shoulder and asked if he was ok. He nodded and pulled you into a tight hug. He sobbed tears of joy onto your shirt, it was unusually warm.

🔥 "Master has never given me a gift before! I shall cherish it forever!"

🔥 He wears it all the time now, bringing the soft fabric to his face once in a while happily.

🔥 Dorik is a bit clueless when it comes to modern culture, he was so surprised when you opened your tv for the first time. "How is this painting moving? You must be a powerful witch if you can make such wonderful magic!"

🔥 You'd bring him to certain places if it had a large number of cosplayers, then he wouldn't be in any danger of getting caught.

nsfw under the cut !!

🔥 He's a bit of a creep too, whenever you're out and he can't follow because you're at college or work, he'd be busy sniffing and drooling over your clothes. He'd take in your sweet scent like a drug, his eyes half-lidded as he grips onto your underwear. he can feel his cock twitch with every intake of your musk.

🔥 The more time he spent with you, the more his admiration and loyalty morphed into something more than that of a servant.

🔥 He started daydreaming about you when you weren't there, fantasizing of him kissing you, burying his cock in you, making you his, covering you with his marks to show how much he loves you.

🔥 He can't help himself! You were just so nice to him, even when he's supposed to serve you, you'd offer him food you'd bring home, you let him sleep with you, you gave him one of your clothes! That must mean you love him back!

🔥 You had a very long shift that day and you came back a little later than expected. You unlocked the door and saw Dorik already smiling widely at you, pulling you into a hug. "Master! You're finally home! I've already run you a bath!"

🔥 You thank him and put down your bags, taking off your coat and shows as you headed to the bathroom.

🔥 Dorik waited from behind the door and could only imagine what you'd look like bare, nothing on but perhaps your undergarments, the ones he's smelled time and time again.

🔥 He scrambled to get out of the way of the door as he heard it unlock and you came out with a towel on. He blushed at your bare shoulders as you disappeared again into the bedroom. He could feel his pants getting tighter as he thought of the two of you in your little nest, fucking and loving on eachother.

🔥 The lock clicked open again and you opened the door to let him in. His eyes widened as he saw what you were wearing, a loose, baggy shirt which revealed one of your shoulders and tight shorts that left little to the imagination. He happily rushes to your side as you sleepily lie down in the mess of blankets and pillows.

🔥 "No reading this time Master?"

🔥 "Yeah...I'm a bit tired, we can read more Dante's Inferno tomorrow..." You yawn as you nuzzle into your blankets.

🔥 The room was dim, and the air was filled with your scent. He couldn't help but feel a romantic atmosphere as you drifted off the sleep.

🔥 His eyes wandered all over your body then suddenly stopped at your ass, he moved a bit closer, rubbing your side, then travelling a bit lower until you started stirring, now lying on your back, your legs now opened. Dorik felt like his head was spinning as he carefully pulled your shorts and underwear down, revealing your sex.

🔥 He licked his lips as he lowered himself to your crotch, his long tongue beginning to lick a stripe up your genatalia.

🔥 You moaned in you sleep as he went deeper, his mouth and tongue how engulfing your sex, exploring every part of your privates with his wet organ.

🔥 Before you could cum, he pulled himself off of you and positioned his hard cock to your entrance.

🔥 He placed his forehead to yours as his dick slowly and carefully slid inside of you, your walls hugging his prick so nicely, he had to stop himself from crying out in pleasure.

🔥 His hips thrust slowly into you before getting faster and more desperate. He held you head next to his chest as he took in the scent of your aroused state.

🔥 Suddenly you wake up to the sensation of Dorik's cock ramming into you as he held you close, you thought it was just a wet dream you were having but the pleasure you were feeling felt very much like reality.

🔥 "D-Dorik!" You moaned, he pulls back a bit to look at you with hearts as his pupils and slurs lovingly; "I'm so sorry master! But you were so cute in bed! So soft, so warm, so good!" he groans as his thrusts get faster.

🔥 You cling onto him, moaning into his ear to go faster, how good it felt, how good he was, all the praise brought him over the edge and he released his load into you, kissing you passionately with his long tongue.

🔥 He pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you and he smiles, falling onto your chest.

🔥 He rolls onto his side and pulls you with him, now cuddling you in bed and massaging your thighs and back.

🔥 "You were amazing master!...So good..." He mutters, clearly drunk from the sex you two shared.

🔥 You giggled and nuzzle into his embrace.

🔥 You suddenly felt the cock in your hole harden once again.

🔥 "Are you ready for round two master?" he looks at you with a smile.

yes i forgot his tattoos shush i was tired

3K notes · View notes

yuki-world · 6 months

Text

那维莱特 | NEUVILLETTE ; LEARN

summary | neuvillette finally shows you what an orgasm feels like with his tongue, too bad you want it with something else of his.

tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, slight corruption, loss of virginity, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, semi-public sex, creampie, 3.3k words

a/n : pt 1 here --> teach, but can be read on its own! a gift for those who requested a part 2 hehe

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“i thought you said we weren’t going to bring this up again, neuvillette?”

well… he wasn’t. but he reasons with himself that it's quite unfair if he doesn’t reward you for the deed you’ve done. after all, the chief of justice should be ensuring fairness. it’s only equal if you get something in return. besides, you asked him to help you experience what an orgasm felt like, and he did agree.

but he really shouldn’t. that blowjob was a one-time thing, he made it clear. he didn’t want to corrupt you too much. can’t have you being too addicted to him and his cock, can you? but… then again. if he’s already indulged in your curiosity the first time, surely a second time wouldn’t hurt? only to help you learn, of course. its not everyday that he gets a chance to experience any sexual activities considering how busy he was. its not like he found anyone to do this with; until you came along. but he hasn’t even courted you, its so backwards. what happened to tradition?

“i believe it’s only fair that i respond to your interests in… learning about orgasms,” neuvillette responds, pulling off his gloves. “furthermore, you waited the whole night for me. it's wrong of me if i let you leave empty-handed, no?”

it's true; you stayed up all night just to visit him in his office once he finished his work. he’s been so busy nowadays, it's only at night when he truly has any free time at all. you feel a bit bad for intruding into his free time, but you barely had the chance to talk to him this whole week. little do you know, he doesn’t mind a single bit. not when its you. truthfully, he misses your consistent pestering too. he’s been drowning in so much work, he just couldn’t find the time.

you giggle at the seriousness of his tone. you didn’t necessarily visit him to ask for any sexual favours. he was the one who brought it up when you stepped into his office at 1am. well, maybe, just maybe, he was looking forward to it.

“so you’re gonna give me a mind-blowing orgasmー is what you’re saying,” you teased, and he chuckled.

“more than mind-blowing, y/n,” he corrects, making his way over to the sofa. “so much so that you’ll never forget your first. you have my word.”

seeing him so bound on making you feel good was attractive, to say the least. its the way that he kneels down, fingers free of his glove gently stroking your thighs, that has you drooling. it's insane how much his touches affect you, you’re sure he noticesー notices the way your legs part for him immediately. he didn’t even have to ask. he plants a kiss along your inner thighs, pushing them nearer to your chest. he doesn’t bite or suck; he’s just so gentle.

you squeak as he hikes your skirt up, face flushing red the moment his eyes focus on your covered cunt. “is… is this really okay, neuvillette?” you ask meekly. it's embarrassing how wet you got from him just kissing your thighs.

“foolish question,” he replies. while he understands it's your first time showing yourself to anyone, there’s no need to be embarrassedー not in front of him. he slides your underwear off, your glistening pussy on display. all for him to see, and taste. his thumb slides up your folds, collecting some of your stickiness. he has to have you.

you let out a gasp as his tongue settles onto your pussy for the first time, the warm muscle making you clamp your thighs around his head instantly. fuck, what was this feeling? he barely even made any movements, but you already feel like you’re on cloud 9. he flicks his tongue against your cunt, lapping up all the juices.

he sucks on your clit occasionally, making your whole body twist in pleasure. your thighs were clamped so tight around him, you thought you were suffocating himー not that he minded. “fuuuck, neuvillette,” you whined as he sucked particularly hard. his tongue experimentally dips into your hole, and you throw your head back. you felt tight even on his tongue; the confirmation that no one else has fucked your little hole just made his cock twitch.

neuvillette tongue-fucks you through the entire session, spreading your lips apart to get a better taste of you. he couldn’t stop himself; you tasted amazing. no other taste could satisfy him after this, he’ll need to eat you out everyday to feel fulfilled. “you taste absolutely divine,” he breaks away for a few seconds, before diving back in to taste your cunt once again.

he was addicted. you couldn’t help but feel something approaching, almost like you needed to pee. “waitー ahhー i feel weird,” you tell him, but he continues eating you out. he knew how close you were, and he wants to edge you so bad. just to tease you a littleー take the orgasm right out of your hands. but he won’t, not this timeー not your first time. he’ll let you enjoy every single moment of it. you deserve it after all.

“neuviー please, waitー fuck!” your legs shook as you reached your high, clenching onto his tongue and juices gushed out of you like a waterfall. your breaths quicken as he continues his movements, cleaning up every last bit of your cum. you taste so sweet, he would never get tired of it. in fact, he’s already planning to invite you to his office tomorrow; just so he can savor you once more. and maybe the day after. and after.

he finally pulls away, lips and chin glossy from your wetness. you take in the sight in front of you, and you blush. “so that’s what an orgasm feels like…” you trail off, and he wipes your juices off his face with the back of his hand.

“it felt good, yes?” he questions, standing up.

the erection in his pants was so obvious. you saw the outline of his cockー it looked like it was going to burst out of his pants from how hard he was. you blinked a couple of times as he handed you back your underwear. you were a little dizzy from how powerful that orgasm was, you don’t even notice him giving it to you. all you could focus on was how turned on you were from him getting hard from eating you out. your hole clenches around nothing, as you chewed on your lip. perhaps… you needed something inside of you.

“are you alright, y/n? you seem a bitー”

“can we…”

what?

oh, oh no. he knows what you’re going to say; he knows exactly what you’re going to ask for. thoughts are racing through his mind because he’s been thinking about this ever since the day you gave him a blowjob. he can’t allow himself to take your virginity, not here, not now. you’re barely ready to take anything inside of you, much less his cock. do you even know how big he is? oh, of course you didー so why are you asking this of him? he might tear you apart with that fat cock of his, and he definitely does not want to hurt you. and defiling you in his office? no, he’ll do it on his bed where you’re comfortable.

“…can we have sex?”

his eyes widened, thoughts doing a 180-degree flip when he hears those words come out of your mouth. it feels more surreal when you actually say it, when you actually ask him. he might’ve expected it, but that tone you asked it in was definitely… something. you asked so sweetly, it would be a crime to say no to you. someone as powerful as him, being so weak for you was something he’d never imagine would happen.

maybe he should really start thinking with his head instead of his dick; he’s so hard. he’d be a fool to not take your offer. to feel your cunt squeeze around him the moment his tip prods at your entrance, you’d probably whine and cry out from how big he was, nails clawing his back exactly the way he likes it. fuck, how tight you’d feel as he slowly inserts more of himself into you. would you even be able to take his entire length? it doesn’t matterー he’ll stretch you till you’re able to, till you can handle all of him.

but he knows better than to give into his desires so easily… right?

“i…” neuvillette is at a loss for words. he’s already too far in, its best that he stops at eating you out. but his dick is twitching in his pants, and your hands are reaching towards his beltー

“y/n,” he calls out, and you stop. “maybe… maybe not this time.” heavy emphasis on the word ‘maybe’, because any little thing you do might just change his mindー he’s that weak.

“why?” you pout, disappointment written on your face. your hand retracts, and he looks away. “you don’t want to fuck me?”

god, you… you and your vulgar words. so bluntly said as if you weren’t just embarrassed a while ago. you really think that he doesn’t want to fuck your brains out? “it's not that, love. it's just…”

“i can take it, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you smile, and he swore his heart started beating a little faster. it's silent, and you try again, hands reaching for his pants.

he doesn’t stop you this time.

your hands are already halfway through with unbuckling his belt, and you plead once more for any confirmation from him. “please, neuvillette? take my first?”

“fuck, alrightー okay,” he says breathlessly, his hands moving yours away as he unbuckles his own belt. he couldn’t take it, not when you were begging so nicely. it just shows again how hard it was to say no to you. he might give you everything you’ve ever wanted if you just asked.

“but you have to promise me,” neuvillette starts, unbuttoning and pulling off his clothes. “if i make you feel any discomfort, please voice itー”

his sentence gets cut short as you pull him down for a kiss. sometimes he just talks too much, you think. it was sloppy, tongues intertwining as he pushed you onto the sofa, crawling on top of you.

he breaks away from the kiss, hands hastily taking off your top. he pulls down your bra as he gets a glimpse of your bare tits. kisses work their way down your neck and onto your nipples, sucking and fondling each tit. you let out a moan when his hands slide down to your hips, pulling your skirt off.

“you are the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he compliments, giving you a kiss on the forehead. your cheeks heat up. “really?”

“you think i, the chief of justice, would lie to you?” he asks, and you roll your eyes. he frees his cock from the constraint of his pants, and he presents himself, hard and erect all for you. he lets your hand roam around his body, finally landing on his cock. you give it a few experimental strokes, making him sigh. small drops of pre-cum leak out from the tip.

no matter how intimidated you were by his size, you were determined to take it. no way were you leaving tonight without your virginity taken.

he spreads your legs apart, sticking two fingers into your mouth. “suck,” he instructs, and you do. your tongue licks around his fingers, coating them fully with your saliva before he takes them out. one finger is inserted into you with no resistance, and he tries with a second one.

you moan at the pleasure as he pumps his digits into you, your wetness making it so easy to slide in and out. were you that turned on? it felt weird at first, but you got used to it quickly. it didn’t hurt or anything, but you definitely felt him stretching you out. he feels how tight you are, clenching around his fingers like you didn’t want him to take it out. but you did want something moreー this didn’t fill you up enough. “how do you feel, y/n?”

you hummed in response. “mm, it's not enough. i want something bigger,” you respond, and he takes his fingers out. he pops them into his mouth, tasting your sweetness once more. “i’ll give it to you. i’ll give you everythingー anything.”

he swallows as he lines his cock up with your entrance, seeing how big he was compared to your pussy. fuck, he might really tear you open. he spreads your pussy open with two fingers, his cock rubbing against your folds. “are you ready? take a deep breath for me.”

you heed his advice, nodding as you inhaled. he rubs his cock-head against your entrance a few more times, before he finally pushes the tip in.

you moan immediately, feeling the stretch of his cock. oh, he was big alright. it was only the tip, but you felt like he was going to split you in half. “so… mmhー big…”

its taking everything in him to not cum right now.

his head was spinning, it felt like he was in another world. he really just took your virginity, he really just deflowered you. did he even deserve this opportunity, to be your first? decades of not fucking anyone really heightened every feeling. you were so tight, he could barely move. you clenching around his fingers prior was nothing compared to this. his fingers on your waist grip harder, and he has to stop himself from even attempting to push his cock in any further or else he might really spill his load inside you.

“neuvillette? iー i said you can move,” you repeat. he must’ve not heard you. after all, his mind went blank the moment he pushed his tip inside of you.

“just a moment,” he clears his throat, panting as he dips his head into your neck. so this was what he has been missing out on? he might become addicted, and it's just the tip that's in you.

“you feel so good, fuck, i…” he mutters into your neck, slowly pushing more of his inches inside of you. you whine, hands wrapping around his neck. you have no idea how bad he wants to slam his entire length into you right now, but he stops himself. you felt so full, so fucked out, you could barely form a sentence. his cock was already hitting your cervix, but it still wasn’t all the way in.

“how are you feeling? tell me,” he demands, and you struggle to let out any words. “goodー great, i don’t know, please,” you mindlessly babble. you don’t even know what you’re saying ‘please’ to.

neuvillette starts painfully slow, dragging his cock in and out of you to let you get used to the feeling. the stretch was amazingー you didn’t know having a cock inside of you felt this good. it stung a little, but nothing too painful that you couldn’t handle.

he eventually picks up the pace, going faster once he sees that you’re starting to ease up. “want it faster?” he asks, and you nod eagerly. you could take it, and you wanted to feel all of him.

he throws both your legs over his shoulders, pressing them against your chest as he drills his cock into your tight cunt. the feeling of you clenching around him each time he thrusts into you has him feeling drunk. he fucks you so hard, yet so gentle at the same time; it doesn’t seem possible, but somehow it is.

your nails dig into his arms as he continuously pounds his cock into your hole. you’re ruined, and he likes it that way. the face you’re making right now has him groaning out. he doesn’t care that he’s in the officeー doesn’t care if anyone walks by and hears both of you moaning. you feel so fucking good around his cock, none of that mattered.

“y/n, you’re so tight,” he hisses, your pussy clamping onto him like a vice grip. he leans down to kiss you again, fucking into you harder.

you moan into the kiss, hands pulling at his hair when his cock hits a particularly pleasurable spot. he can’t lie, pulling on his hair makes his balls tighten. “so good…” you drool, and he smiles.

you couldn’t think about anything else but the way neuvillette’s cock was slamming into you so roughly. you could barely respond. it's like he was craving for this, like he was depriving himself all this time just for this moment. you felt your orgasm coming much faster than the first time.

“i’m gonna cumー neuvillette, ahh,” you moan, and his hands immediately reach down to rub at your clit. “yeah? enjoying yourself that much?” he teases, and you whine in response, and he pounds into you harder. you’re so close, so close…

“fuck!” you almost screamed out as your orgasm hit you. you see nothing but stars as your pussy clenches on his cock impossibly tighter than before, your eyes rolling back from the amount of pleasure that just washed over you.

“ohー fuck, y/n, this is…” his hip stutters at the sensation, warmth and wetness drenching his cock. you pant as he continues fucking into you, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. he was chasing his own high too.

he needs to cum inside you, he won’t settle for anywhere else. he wants to see you squirm as his warm cum fills your insides. he wants to see that white ring of cum form around the base of his cock, watch it all leak out after as he struggles to stuff it back into you.

“let me cum inside of you, please, y/n,” he begs, and who were you to say no? the iudex of fontaine begging you? you’ll gladly allow him. you were planning on letting him even if he didn’t ask. “do it, i’m all yours, neuvillette.”

hearing those words were his final straw. “take it, fuckー take it all, oh,” he halts with one last thrust, dumping his load into you. white, milky cum fill your insides, warmth spreading throughout your lower half as you moan at the feeling. it almost felt comforting.

he continues depositing his cum inside your cunt, panting. he didn’t think he would cum this much, was he really that deprived of pleasure? he sees his cum leak from your cunt even though you’re stuffed full of him.

“my love,” he calls, caressing your cheek, and a peck to your forehead. you shy away. “you.. you really need to stop calling me that.”

he raises his eyebrows. did you not like that? but he’s been calling you that all this time…

“before i ask whyー are you alright? i didn’t hurt you, did i?” he asks, concerned. you giggle, he’s always so caring. as expected of neuvillette.

“yes, i’m fineー great even,” you smile, and his expression softens at the assurance. “good.”

“just that… should you really be calling me that? i mean, i don’t hate it, if anything its the opposite, but,” you clear your throat. “we’re not even… together. unless its just, a one time thingー or something like that.”

“i understand,” he says, and you make eye contact with him. he looks gorgeous, covered in sweat but absolutely glowing. ah, focus. “my apologies for confusing you, but i do have intentions of courting you.”

oh?

“you do?” you ask, and he can’t help but laugh. “are you saying you haven’t seen the way i look at you, y/n? and whatever we’re doing now is… i wouldn’t do this with someone i didn’t have feelings for.”

you hum. “i mean, you haven’t exactly made a move, unless you consider this one?”

“well, this is slightly backwards, but tell you what,” he starts, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “come home with me, and i’ll plan something for the both of us in the morning,” he whispers into your ear like it's a secret. “how does that sound?”

“i… think that sounds lovely.”

ー @yuki-world

taglist: @lavenderslemonade

#雪| 那维莱特 neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette smut #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader smut

2K notes · View notes

ln444 · 6 months

Text

my english love affair

cw: MDNI+18, f!reader, strangers to lovers, soulmates au, fluff, smut, maybe slight angst? depends on how you see it lol, fingering (f), penetration, soft dirty talk, a lot (like a lot) of kissing and sharing long gazes, whipped lando again bc im obsessed sorry.

now playing: english love affair by 5sos, let me by zayn.

notes: omg this took so long 😭 i'm not really confident abt my smut, i feel like i'm writing fluff way better but i hope you like it!! i might write a part 2, let me know if you like this one! enjoy🤍

requested by anon | requests open!

______________________________________________

“when the lights go out, she's all i ever think, i can't forget my english love affair, today i'm seven thousand miles away”

the thought of finally going back to his f1 driver life fills lando with excitement. sure, lando loves england — it's his home, after all. but nothing can compare to the rush he feels when he's in an f1 car, traveling all around the world and meeting his fans.

for his last night town, lando's friends convinced him to hit the club. normally, he prefers staying in to rest before the start of the season but a little fun doesn't hurts, right? he won't have much time to do it during the grand prix.

despite his fame, lando still gets surprised when someone recognizes him, especially at the club. he knows he's known for his looks, and he's aware of the attention from admirers, but it still catches him off guard in real life. sometimes, the attention can be overwhelming, especially when he just wants to have a good time with his friends and ends up with some overly clingy girls.

lando decides to excuse himself, seeking some fresh air. the pressure of the coming season is getting to him, and the situation doesn't help. he finds a quiet spot with a few people smoking and making out, leans against the wall, and closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a relieved sigh.

suddenly, a voice startles him from his thoughts, "did your friends force you to come here too?" his head jerks towards you, and you're standing beside him, out of nowhere. he takes time to answer, surprised by your unexpected presence. after realizing that he left you without any response, he clears his throat, a bit confused, "nah, just needed some fresh air" he mumbles, a small smile forming on his lips. you chuckle slightly, and comment "not surprised, having so many girls fawning over you must be exhausting", there's a small hint of tease in your voice that makes lando's smile grows.

finally, as he turns to study your features under the soft glow of the night lights, lando finds himself entranced by your captivating beauty, the grace of your features leaving an indelible impression on him. he can't help but get lost in your eyes shining in the dim illumination, making it difficult for him to look away. it takes him a good minute to quickly look away, thanking the night for hiding his rosé cheeks.

he gazes at the sky, trying to think of something to say that doesn't sound awkward — and also trying to get his shit together. he suddenly feels the need to make a good impression. "i mean, it's not that i don't appreciate the attention, but wow, they can be quite persistent."

his hands find their way into the pockets of his jacket, and his eyes avoid meeting yours, fearing he might get lost in them again. "yeah, i know. they're my friends," you say with a small chuckle, not because he's making fun of them, but more because of the use of the term 'friends.'

lando's eyes widen, and he turns to you, 'i'm sorry, i didn't mean to-' but he stops himself, looking down, feeling too embarrassed to find the right words. you laugh softly and move closer to him, your shoulders brushing and lando can feel his body tense up due to the closeness.

"hey, it's okay. i don't really consider them my friends, anyway," you say nonchalantly and lando lets out a sigh of relief, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "wow, that's nice for them", you both laugh and lando doesn't miss the way you subtly lean into him, your shoulders finally touching. he turns his head away from you, clearing his throat once more, trying to control the warmth spreading through his body.

"hey", you suddenly call out after a minute of tranquil silence and lando dares to meet your gaze, instantly regretting when he's captivated by your radiant eyes. he finds himself unable to look away and you both share an intense, unspoken connection, as if you've known each other for years. everything feels perfectly right at this moment.

"wanna get out of here?" you finally suggest, your words barely more than a whisper, your focus entirely on lando's mesmerizing eyes. you take his hand, both fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces and you let him drag you in the dark streets.

after a walk filled with stolen gaze and silly conversations, you found yourself on lando's couch, engrossed in his f1 souvenirs and you have never felt so much passion, feeling your heart soften every time your see that sparkles in his eyes. lando never thought that his night will end up like this. sure, he might ended up with a girl from the club like he usually do, but this time was different. he never really experienced this; having sweet and innocent conversations with a stranger from a club. the atmosphere is tranquil yet there's a subtle tension in the air.

lando couldn't help but be his flirty self, playfully teasing you from time to time. however, your responses makes him somewhat nervous — it's a new sensation to him, having a girl making him feel this way. perhaps it's the way you gazes at him with patience and attention, your lovely smile that you share generously with him or how closely you listen to his random f1 stories. lando and you end up scrolling through photos in his phone, with him recounting the stories behind each one. he couldn't help but feel his heart melt your reactions; your smiles, your laughs, and your curiosity as you ask for more details and share your own anecdotes.

a soothing silence descended, and the two of you sit beside each other, thighs and shoulders lightly touching. lando struggles to contain the fluttering feeling in his stomach when you turn to look at him. he dares to meet your gaze, trying to focus on your eyes rather than your enticing lips. lost in each other eyes, you can't tear your gazes away. a brand new emotion envelops both of you, one that's strangely familiar yet undeniably unique, as though destiny has brought you together in this very moment and lando can't help but wonder if soulmates might actually exist.

you finally speak, after what feels like an eternity, in a soft voice, "you can kiss me, lando", you whisper like it's a secret. lando stomach tighten and he don't even take the time to answer, gently placing his hand on your cheek to pull you for a shy kiss. your lips discover each other, timidly and your hands instinctively slides around his neck to pull him closer.

you can't seem to get enough of each other, savoring every moment as you explore each other's mouths. lando's hand venture on your hips, and the chill of his touch sends shivers down your spine, as you suppress a soft moan in your throat. the kiss grows more intense, both of you yearning for more. without the need for words, you share an unspoken understanding of each other's needs, as if you've been intimately connected for ages. out of breath, you both finally pull away, foreheads touching, sharing a playful gaze, giggling and blushing like teenagers experiencing their very first kiss.

after one last sweet peck on the lips, lando takes your hand and stands, guiding you towards the bedroom, careful not to stumble due to both your impatience and the lingering dizziness of that passionate kiss.

not wasting time, he gently guides you onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you. he can't resist the urge to pause and admire you, your eyes shimmering in the soft glow of the dim lights. before he gets lost in that gaze, his eyes roam to study every detail of your face, causing you to blush and squirm beneath him. your arms tighten around his neck, and you chuckle, bringing lando back to the present. "like what you see?" you whisper, stealing a smile from him as he draws closer, his lips teasingly brushing against yours. "oh, absolutely," he murmurs before capturing your lips in a kiss. this time, it feels different; electrifying.

lando's hands slips, beneath your dress, and this time a whimper escapes your lips, making lando smirk through the kiss. his hands dares to explore the skin of your thighs, creating an unusual feeling in your stomach — and making your pussy slightly throb. your fingers finds their way into his curls, gripping onto them as the kiss becomes messier; your tongues dancing together.

"just take it off already" you huff and puff, seeing lando struggling and he lets out a chuckle "damn, someone is impatient", he says, teasing you, before finally taking your dress off. his eyes travel your body, and you've never felt so vulnerable, your cheeks burning. lando let out an unwanted groan, completely loving the view and he stares a bit too long until you pull him for another kiss to put him out of his thoughts. he takes a moment to kiss you back and it's your turn to slide your hands beneath his shirt, playing with the lines of his abdomen, making him moan softly against your lips.

after a good minute of kissing and touching, you finally take off his shirt and his pants, on the way, leaving you both in your underwear. lando leaves kisses along your jawline, going down to your chest, his hand sliding in your back to unbutton your bra and the way your boobs bounce out of it makes lando groan, feeling his erection grows. your grip on his hair gets tighter as you watch him play with your nipples, flicking it and licking it and the view drives you crazy.

you moan his name softly, pulling on his hair to make him look at you and you share a long stare, full of lust, both craving for more. you pull him for a sloppy kiss, trying to show how impatient you are and lando gets the message, pulling down your panties and getting rid of his boxers.

lando's mouth leaves yours and is replaced by his fingers, stealing a whimper from you. your eyes meets his as you suck on his fingers and, if they could, his eyes would burn holes into yours. lando found himself getting more and more impatient, the way you suck on his fingers with that irresistible look making it harder for him to contain it.

pulling out his fingers out of your mouth and without leaving your eyes for a second, his two fingers found your hole, slipping gently in it and you throw instinctively your head backwards, a moan escaping your mouth. lando take a good look at you in that position before taking the opportunity to leave kisses on your exposed neck, fighting the urge to suck on it to not leave marks, not wanting to overstep your boundaries.

"feeling okay?" he whispers softly, his breath hitting your skin, making it difficult for you to fight the whimpers escaping your mouth. lando takes a minute to look at you, to make sure that you don't feel any pain or discomfort.

"mmh'yes, you can move, please oh my god" you desperately says and lando can't help but pull you for another messy kiss. his fingers start moving in you, stretching your walls and you become a moaning mess, your eyes closing and lando takes advantage of it to admire you, his moves getting faster and faster.

"are you close, princess?" he murmurs close to your lips, feeling your body trembling and hearing the way your moans gets louder. you can only shake your head; feeling the bottom of your stomach getting warmer and the nickame almost make you choke on your moans. lando slows down to make scissors movements, his thumb rubbing your clit to help you reach your climax. he can't take off his eyes of you, inspecting every aspect of your face; the way your face crunches and your mouth is slightly open to let multiple sounds out of it. he could almost come just by this sight, his own crotch getting bigger.

with a loud and long moan, you finally climax, arching your back and lando plant soft pecks on your neck, whispering sweet words to you and telling you how good you're doing. breathless, you absently stroke his hair and close your eyes for a moment trying to calm the beat of your heart but lando makes it hard; his hands traveling your body and his lips attached to the skin of your neck.

the sudden emptiness when lando pulls out his fingers make you whimper and he lift his head to meet your gaze — he lost count of how many times he got lost in your eyes tonight. your hand make its way to his cock and the sudden touch makes lando slightly startle, a groan leaving his mouth. before you start stroking it, his hand comes to stop you immediately and you look at him, confused and with a hint of worry; silently asking him if you did something wrong.

"wanna fuck you now or i might go crazy", he says, almost whimpering and you slightly laugh, pulling his face closer to yours. "someone is impatient huh", you tease, a small smirk forming on your lips and he can't help but mirror that smirk. "how can i not when you look at me like that?" he takes your bottom lip between his teeth before kissing you again, his body getting closer and his cock brushing on your pussy makes you both moan through the kiss. you take his dick, once again, in your hand to guide it through your hole this time. and slowly, he penetrates you, a long groan escaping his lips at how tight you feel around him and you break the kiss to moan loudly.

"so fucking tight, baby, just for me", he mumbles close to your lips and you can't even answer, too overwhelmed by the way he's filling you — and his dirty words. when you finally adjust, he doesn't waste any minutes and start moving. you both moan in unison, holding into each other like your life depends on it. he watches you go crazy over his cock; the way your eyes gets watery, the way you hold into the sheets — your other hand too busy pulling his hair —, the way you can't control the continuous moans, his name slipping out of your mouth from time to time and encouraging him to go deeper into you. and he does go deeper, slowing down the pace to thrust into you as deep as he can, reaching your sensitive spot.

"right here? like that, baby?" he moans, feeling you tightening around him. his voice makes it harder for you to hold your growing orgasm. your hand leaves the sheets to hold onto his shoulder, your nails crawling into his skin. lando suddenly feels the urge to look at you in the eyes — maybe because his orgasm is getting close too. his hand finds a way to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it gently "look at me, angel", he says in a husky voice that could make you come at any moment. struggling to keep your eyes open, you try your best to hold his gaze, the way he's looking at you making you insane.

his thrusts gets faster and you can't control the sounds escaping from your mouth anymore. you look away for a moment, too overwhelmed and lando's hand travels to your face, cupping it gently to keep it straight "eyes on me, love". you obey, meeting his gaze and it's all too much for you.

you don't even have to use words for lando to understand that you're getting close, the way your eyes gets watery and your body shakes is enough. with his hand going back to your throat, lando accompany you into your orgasm, enjoying the way you scream his name and you manage to hold his gaze. his own orgasm comes a few minutes after yours and he makes sure to pull out before ejaculating, his groans echoing in the room. he immediately falls besides you and you both just stay like this: his leg over yours, your hand still in his hair as you try to catch your breath. lando uses his last drops of strength to grab a tissue from the nightstand and clean his fresh cum on your stomach.

he pulls you close again, linking your legs together and letting you play with his hair. the silence is so peaceful; the warm of your bodies making you both relax immediately. a smile unconsciously forms on lando's lips at the sight of your tired face, your eyes shining in the almost dark atmosphere of the night. you look back at him, smiling back and giggling, making lando raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"what's so funny?" he says, fighting the smile growing on his lips. "i just slept with the lando norris", you tease and lando groans, hiding his face in his arm. "i knew you were a fan!" he replies playfully, playing along. you laugh in sync and lando's heart feels at peace; all the worries about the incoming season completely forgotten. your hand gently plays with his curls as you absently stare at the ceiling, an unbeatable smile on your face.

lando, on the other side, can't take his eyes off you, watching you slowly fall asleep and enjoying your fingers in his hair. and just before you completely close your eyes, you turn to him, offering him a last kiss; so tender and passionate that your hearts both might burst out of your chests. pulling out, lando watches you fall asleep, not fighting the smile on his face anymore.

he usually struggles to sleep before an important day but this time, his mind is only filled with you and this night spent by your side. and just like that, it's lando's turn to meet the sandman.

with a groan, lando struggles to reach and silence the blaring alarm. the morning sunlight aggressively shines through the curtain, making him shield his face with his arm, staying in half asleep state for a minute as he gradually gets out of it.

then it suddenly hits him; you're no longer beside him.

lando suddenly starts to panic, jolting him into full wakefulness. he springs out of the bed and desperately search for any signs of you in every room of his apartment but you're nowhere to be found. he mutters curses under his breath, passing a hand to his messy hair — the thought of you messing his hair last night making him even more frustrated. defeated, he returns to the bedroom, his gaze falling on the tousled sheets where everything happened. as lando realizes that he didn't even ask for your name, frustration festered within him, causing him to clench his hair.

however, amidst his self reproach, a small piece of paper on the nightstand catch his attention, and he immediately rushes to it.

"we will meet again, i promise. you're going to kill it, lovely boy. y/n, x"

lando can't even fight the smile creeping on his lips, his heart softening — it was beating way too fast just by the thought of not even knowing your name. he sinks back onto the bed, your smell immediately hitting him and making him even happier. he reads those few words repeatedly and his hands falls onto his chest, holding the paper close to his heart as he whispers your name again and again, savoring its melodious sound. lando can't help but tell himself that soulmates might exist.

"i am going to kill it,", lando murmured to himself, a foolish grin etching on his face.

______________________________________________

part 2?:p join the tag list here!

masterlist

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #f1 angst #f1 smut #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic

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agirlcandream84 · 2 months

Text

Neighbor!Frank is a Daddy When You Come Home Drunk

Guys I'm gonna fucking scream if Neighbor Daddy Frank doesn't do this to me. SCREAM. I'm considering this a part 2 to this. DO WE NEED PART THREE?! (ETA: Next part here!!!)

Neighbor!Frank x Reader

Word Count: 1,203 (5 min read)

"Text me when you're hooommmmme" you say in a sing-songy voice to Lily, the alcohol making you cheerful and warm, as she climbs into the Uber.

"K but you gotta text me too," she replies, eyes lidded and slumped in the seat. "Oh fuck, it's 3:30," she slurs, "Brian gonna's be so pissed," she adds before bursting into a fit of laughter.

You laugh back and shut the car door, watching it drive off. Standing in the cold spring night, alone on the sidewalk, your drunkenness hits you a little more clearly, like being dropped in reality after a lovely fuzzy dream.

You pull out your phone to call your own Uber but find only a black mirror staring back at you, battery long dead. "Oh shit," you mumble and look around to no one and nothing in particular. With a drunk person's confidence you decide the walk home will do you good, sucking the cold night air into your nostrils before starting the one mile trek to your apartment.

Twenty minutes, about 4 blisters and some teeth-chattering later, you find yourself on the stoop of your apartment building. Luckily, the alcohol flowing vigorously through your system numbed most of the discomfort but you were starting to feel intensely peckish. You were juuusstt on the cusp of, "if I don't eat now I might throw up," so you jammed your hand in your purse and started digging for your keys. And digging. And digging.

You pull out your phone to call Lily, when -- oh right -- the battery. You go back to digging. Then jiggling the door handle. Then sticking a bobby pin in the lock like this was a sitcom. Then sliding your library card through the crack in the door, hoping to catch the deadbolt. Maybe another jiggle?

"ffuuccckkk," you mumble, sitting on the stoop and resting your eyes a minute. Your body lilts to the side before you jerk your eyes awake. You approach the door again, peeling off your shoes, barefoot on the stoop, desperate to get inside. Why did your feet hurt so fucking bad? You needed food. And sleep.

Your eyes lock on the button for your neighbor Frank's unit and you smash your finger on it without hesitation. Frank would help. Frank's so nice.

You hear the crackle of the intercom and a raspy "uh hello?" on the other end.

"You're s'nice," you mumble out.

There's a pause before he says your name, his voice more alert than a moment ago.

"Bingo buddy," you confirm, winking at the intercom speaker.

"Don't move sweetheart, I'm coming down," he says urgently. What's this guy so worried about? You chuckle and let out a small burp.

What feels like two seconds later you see him through the glass, bare chested and grey sweatpants, hair mussed with sleep. He's unlocking the door and you instantly feel the warm comfort of his hand wrap around your waist, ushering you inside.

"Fuck sweetheart, you hurt?" he asks once you're inside, his arms holding you out in front of him as his eyes scan you for injury.

"no no no no no," you mumble, trying to correct him.

"Why don't have shoes on, doll? You walk home like, that?!" he continues, his brows knotted in confusion and concern.

"Wha?" you reply. Oh right, the shoes. When had you taken those off?

"Fuckin' Christ honey, girl like you can't be walkin' home drunk and alone in the middle of the night," he scolds, doing a final review to make sure you're not hurt. "You ever can't get home, you call me. No questions."

You nod and reply "Sorry but I can't find m'keys," trying to explain.

"Don't worry 'bout that, come on," he answers, grabbing your shoes and your purse from your hand weaving an arm back around your waist. You feel him guide you towards the stairs, so many fucking stairs, before you shout "Library card!" with urgency.

"Sssh sssh, gotta keep it down for the neighbors honey, let's just get you inside," he soothes you, chalking it up to drunk rambles.

"No no no no Frankie," you reply and he smirks at the name, "left m'libraby card outside."

"S'that right sweetheart?" he asks with the smile still on his lips and you nod, big, slow dramatic nods, and he adds "Ya know, you're cute when you're drunk."

You wink at him (you think) and say, "And you're cute when I'm drunk too," with something amounting to a smirk on your own face. This time he laughs and guides you by the hips to sit on the steps inside while he steps onto the stoop to find the lost library card.

Returning a moment later with your library card held aloft, he starts you back up the stairs with a "A'ight, come on, up we go sweetheart." You roll onto your hands and knees, deciding that a crawl up the steps was the only way you'd make it to the top.

"Nah nah nah, these stairs are filthy, come on," he scolds, reaching down to lift you to your feet by your armpits.

"But m'feet hurt sooooo baadddddd. I caaaannn't" you whine, actual tears threatening to fall if you didn't eat food in the imminent future.

"Alright alright, sssshh, come on sweetheart," he says more gently, one arm looping behind your back while the other scoops behind your knees. You're encased in his warmth, the natural musky aroma of his broad chest enough to lull you sleep right there and then. He begins the climb, each step slow and intentional, and you may as well be rocked to sleep in a bassinet.

"Need you stay awake for me doll," he says while jostling you left and right just slightly.

"Mmmm," you acknowledge in response, eyes barely peeling open.

"Come on, talk to me," he encourages.

"Can I tell you a secret?" you mumble, eyes slow blinking. He nods, the smirk again. You lean in close to his ear, his flopsy hair tickling your cheek, and whisper "I think you're cute when I'm not drunk too" before you lean your head allllll the way back to gaze at the chipped paint on the ceiling while belting Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U" into the echoey hallway.

He grunts as he attempts to maneauvre your head back up again, finding it more of a struggle than if he weren't currently laughing his ass off, adding, "Hey Sinead, knock it off before Mrs. Ericson starts her yappin' alright?"

You quiet down for a moment and your face grows solemn. Solemn enough that Frank pauses his climb, one foot on the stair above and one on the stair below. You find his deep brown eyes and feel the steady rhythm of his chest against you.

"You... you ok sweetheart?" he asks, quieter now. His eyes searching your face.

"Frank I...." you starting, eyes glassy and voice timid.

"What is is honey? C'tell me anything," he murmurs.

You swallow, your eyes darting to his lips before finding his eyes again, replying "I need food real bad."

A smile slowly cracks across his face and he nods, continuing his climb up the steps. "Alright honey, let's get you some food."

>> NEXT PART HERE <<<

#frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #frank castle fanfic #frank castle smut #frank castle fluff #frank castle comfort #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #neighbor frank castle #frank castle x y/n

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 1 month

Note

okay hi just a warning rq my autocorrect is off bc it autocorrected my friend’s name to fuckin malayalam on accident. i dont like autocorrect.

ANYWAY! ive been listening to my lovely olivia rodrigo lately, specifically her new song obsessed. i wanted to know if you could make a fic with Ethan x fem! reader where readers bitchy friend has this ex (Ethan) and she made him out to be a real dick. like, manipulating and everything.

reader eventually meets him and it turns out that she remembers… a lot about him considering her friend is a constant yapper and cant shut up about him. Ethan actually turns out to be a real cutie patootie and could literally never hurt anyone.

a few days later theyd meet again at some club or party maybe where they end up hitting it off… a little too well.. yeah so she ends up in his bed (smut part, very dom ethan plspls 😛😛). they could be talking about something really random and then reader brings up how her friend basically completely lied about him and said he was a piece of shit when he really wasnt. like a realllll fluffy end before a small cliffhanger thats never gonna get finished where her friend ends up finding out and texting her.

so sorry if thats too long or confusing idk but i actually love your work so much im lowkey your #1 fan. 😍😍😍

HELLO! I switched this up a little, I hope that's okay! 💕

Also, I fucking loved the 'leave it on a cliffhanger part that won't get finished' because WHY IS THAT WHAT I DO lmao

Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Your friend told you horrible lies about her ex-boyfriend, and once you get to know him, you realize he's not the monster she made him out to be.

Contains: Mentions of a toxic relationship, Dom-ish cocky Ethan, rough-ish sex, oral - f receiving, p in v, fluff (If I missed anything, PLEASE let me know. I'm sleep deprived atm)

A/N: This was the one that pulled me out of my writers block, lmao. It's still not where I want it to be, but I'm TRYING. I'll try to post more this week, but I will be busy so bear with me haha.

You didn’t know Ethan Landry, but you knew you didn’t like him. He used to date one of your friends, and after hearing all the horrible things he’d said and done during their relationship, you thought he was really scummy.

They dated in high school and couldn’t get enough of each other, so they wanted to go to the same college. They broke up right before freshman year started, and after almost a year, she still talked about him every chance she got. She’d tell you how controlling he was. The things he’d call her when he was mad. How he cheated on her. You couldn’t believe that she stayed in the relationship for as long as she did, because she never had anything good to say, except that she loved him.

You’d seen pictures of him, and after walking into one of your classes at the start of the new semester, you saw him in person for the first time. He was so shy as he took his seat in the lecture hall, some of the girls making their little comments about the rumors they’d heard about him. He didn’t seem like the type that would do the things your friend said, but maybe he was just really good at playing innocent. All you knew was that you needed to keep your distance from him.

When you met up with your friend later that day for lunch, you didn’t know if you wanted to bring up Ethan being in the same class as you, but once she brought him up, you decided to tell her.

“Speaking of Ethan…I saw him today,” you said, before taking a bite of your food. Her face dropped as she looked at you.

“Where did you see him?” she questioned. You explained that you saw him in one of your new classes, and she rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still tries to text me?”

“What I can’t believe is that you haven’t blocked him,” you said, “I know I’d hate to see someone that treated me like shit’s name pop up on my phone.”

She started to giggle as you curiously stared at her. “I have him saved in my phone as ‘Tall loser with a small dick’, so I laugh every time he does text me.”

“That’s not toxic at all,” you said, as you started to think about what she’d said. “Wait, he treated you as bad as he did and has a small dick? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“All he had going for him was that he was cute,” she said, “But seriously, if I were you, I’d stay away from him.”

“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to be near him.”

Your morning wasn’t going as expected. You slept through all of your alarms; you didn’t have time to stop for coffee. You didn’t think your day could get any worse, until you walked into class and noticed the only empty seat available was beside Ethan. You took a deep breath before you walked over and sat down. Once you reached into your backpack, you realized that your laptop wasn’t there. You were in such a hurry when you ran out of your dorm and didn’t even think to grab it.

“Shit,” you whispered, “I’m so stupid.”

“Here,” Ethan said, passing you a notebook and a pen. You curiously looked at him as he offered a weak smile. “I always keep an extra notebook, just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips.

Once class started, you were taking your notes, but you kept glancing over to Ethan. He was so focused on typing that he didn’t notice, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything your friend told you was true. At that moment, he didn’t seem like a jerk. Then again, he had only spoken a handful of words to you.

Ethan was aware of all the things that were said about him. He hoped that after a few weeks it all would’ve blown over, but once you have an angry ex-girlfriend paint you as some horrible, emotionally abusive asshole, it’s hard to come back from that. He knew that it was best for him to just keep his head down until he was able to transfer to a different school, where no one knew who he was. He was miserable at Blackmore, and he really had no reason to stick around, aside from the few friends he’d made.

After class was over, you tore the pages of notes you’d taken from the notebook to give it back to Ethan.

“Thanks again,” you said, as you handed it back to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, shoving it back in his backpack. “I thought about just emailing you my notes, but I didn’t know if you’d want that.”

“You’re telling me I didn’t have to spend the last hour trying to write that fast?” you asked, as he flashed you a sweet, genuine smile. “Why wouldn’t someone want that?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because most people here hate me,” he said, sliding the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve probably heard things about me.”

“Yeah…are they true?” you asked, as he shook his head.

“You’re the first person that’s asked me that. Everyone else just assumes everything is true,” he sighed, “But no, I’m not a bad person.”

You started to feel so guilty. You’d said plenty of bad things about him, but you only heard one side of the story. With your friends’ story changing so many times, getting more dramatic each time she told it, you were starting to realize that it was all bullshit. You still didn’t know exactly what happened, but you were curious to know what the truth was.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, noticing that you were lost in thought as you stood in front of him.

“I’m friends with your ex,” you said, as his smile slowly fell. “What’s the real story?”

He sat back down in his seat as the other students piled out of the room. You sat beside him as you waited for him to speak.

“I really loved her…but she was just so controlling. Then she cheated on me when she went to the beach with her family. I didn’t find out about that until right before we started college,” he said, looking over to you. “She was pissed that I broke up with her, then all these horrible things about me started going around.”

“That’s fucked up,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s still been trying to text me. I finally blocked her a few days ago.”

“Wait, she said you’ve been trying to text her,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.

“Her number’s been deleted from my phone for months. I have no interest in talking to her,” he said, “I know this must be weird for you since you are her friend, but I think it’s cool that you wanted to hear me out.”

“Well, I feel like I need to apologize…I’ve said some things about you that weren’t true.”

“She’s a good liar. She has almost the entire school hating me so it doesn’t surprise me that her friend does, too,” he said, as he stood back up.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, smiling at him. “I don’t know if you’d want to, and I know she’d kill me, but if you ever want to hang out sometime, let me know.”

“I’d like that.”

Ethan was kicking himself for not asking you for your number, or shit, even your social media so he could DM you. He thought you were beautiful, but he knew that hoping for a chance with you would be a reach. He really just needed more people in his life that believed him to make the time he still had at the university more enjoyable.

Your friend begged you to come to a random frat party that you didn’t feel like going to in the first place. After your talk with Ethan, you weren’t even sure you wanted to be around her. You still went, and after searching for her for almost an hour, you checked your phone to see a message from her that she wasn’t coming, and that she ran into one of the guys she’d been hooking up with on the way to the party.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” you said to yourself as you locked your phone and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hopefully to hang out with me, if your offer’s still good,” you heard from behind you, recognizing Ethan’s voice.

“Hey,” you said as you turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see the most hated man on campus here.”

“My roommate told me that if I stayed in my dorm tonight, he’d throw my Xbox out the window,” he said, glancing over to the muscular guy that was watching Ethan talk to you.

“Ah, so you were threatened into being social,” you said, as he started to laugh.

“I guess you could say that. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker; you could tell by the sour look on his face every time he took a sip. It gave him a little confidence though, as the two of you talked and got to know each other a little better.

“I don’t think I can drink this anymore,” he said, sitting the cup down on a table. You sat yours down too, and as soon as you did, someone bumped into you, shoving you into Ethan.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at him. Your chest was pressed closely against his, his hands on your hips from catching you.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You can stay this close to me all night, if you want.”

“Are you always this smooth? Or is it the alcohol?” you questioned as he smirked at you.

“I’m only buzzed,” he said, before he leaned down, placing his lips on yours.

Chad was still watching Ethan from afar, cheering and thrusting his fist in the air once he saw Ethan kiss you. He started to laugh against your lips before he pulled away to stare daggers through his roommate for interrupting the moment.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Ethan said, as you smiled at him.

“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested, as he took your hand in his.

“Want to go back to my dorm? He’ll be here for a while so I know we can talk without being interrupted.”

“Sure!”

Once you made it back to Ethan’s dorm, you were starting to think that he really did just want to talk. You enjoyed listening to him, though. He was telling you about all his hobbies and interests, and you were telling him yours. You started to glance around his side of the dorm room, noticing the cliché, dorky things you’d expect to see.

“Nice Star Wars poster, nerd,” you joked, as he smirked at you.

“Oh, I’m a nerd?” he said, as he nudged you back on his bed. He was hovering over you, his mouth inches from yours. The sexual tension got so thick as his eyes looked into yours, his hand rubbing your hip.

“Mhm,” you said, the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. “A hot nerd.”

He felt his cheeks start to heat up, and he really didn’t want you to notice, so he leaned down to finally connect his lips to yours. It didn’t take long for the kiss to get more intense, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip. You let him deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with yours as his hands started to roam. You whimpered into the kiss once his hand squeezed your thigh, your hips started to squirm underneath him.

He pulled away but still stayed close so the two of you could catch your breath. You were reading each other’s faces, and it was obvious that you both wanted more.

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as his eyes looked into yours.

“As far as you want,” you said, your sweet tone making him groan.

“That’s not what I asked you,” he said, as he leaned back down to kiss your neck. His curls were tickling you, but the only reaction you had were the soft moans slipping past your lips from how well his mouth moved. His hips were rutting into yours, showing you how hard he was for you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, as he pulled away to look at you.

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Ethan was a little, well, very eager. He got you undressed in what felt like seconds, leaving you in just your panties. Once he stripped down to just his boxers, you got a little curious. You glanced down to see his hard cock straining against the fabric, and started to laugh to yourself, your gaze going to the ceiling.

“What’s funny?” he asked, as he hovered back over you to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your laughing stopped, a gasp slipping out when he started to suck. “I asked you a question,” he teased, before moving to the other side.

“She really does lie about everything,” you said, as his tongue swirled. “She said you had a small dick.”

He started to laugh against you, before he pulled back. “That’s funny, because she couldn’t take it.”

“I can,” you said, his smile turning to a smirk as his hand trailed down your body to rub you over your panties.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, as he moved lower down the bed to position himself between your thighs.

He slid your panties down your legs, before running his fingers over your wet pussy. Your eyes stayed on him, your bottom lip in between your teeth as he teased you. Your anticipation just kept building as he moved down the bed, positioning himself in between your thighs. He leaned in, slipping his tongue inside your entrance.

He was sloppily eating you out, his head moving from side to side. His arms hooked under your thighs to pull you as close to his face as he could as your hands went to his hair.

“So good,” you whimpered, your breathing getting faster as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He slid his tongue out of you to focus on your clit, quickly replacing it with two of his fingers. Your back was arching off the bed as he moved his arm back and forth, applying as much pressure as he could to that spongy spot inside you as he sucked on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you babbled, as he started to chuckle with your clit in his mouth.

That was all it took for your legs to start shaking and your grip on his hair getting even tighter. Once your pussy started to clench around him, he slowed his fingers to a slow roll, not wanting to overstimulate you. His tongue gently licked your clit as he worked you through it, your whimpers getting softer as you came down from your high.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you admitted through your shaky breathing. Ethan started to laugh a little as you looked at him, your eyes hazy. “What?”

“Just wait until I’m inside you,” he cockily said, “You still confident that you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” you said, your legs instinctively spreading wide for him as his fingertips ran up your thigh.

“What are you going to do when no one else can make you feel as good as I do?” he questioned, as one of his fingers started to rub circles on your clit.

“I guess I’d have to keep you around then,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’d only have me until summer starts,” he said, his finger moving faster. “I’m transferring to a different school after this year.”

“No, you’re not..fuck. I’ll convince you to stay,” you said, relaxing into the bed as he teased you.

Ethan pulled his hand away from your pussy before he slid his boxers off. He crawled back on top of you and reached over to his bedside table to grab a condom.

“I might let you convince me,” he said, as he lined up with your entrance. You tensed up a little because you knew how big he was. “Relax, baby.”

You did as he said, taking a deep breath as he inched his way inside of you. You were moaning as he stretched you out, and when you thought he was all the way in, he just kept going.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling so full as he finally came to a stop, wanting to give you plenty of time to adjust. “Told you..Fuck, I told you I could take it,” you said, already struggling to speak.

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, your mouth falling open as he started to move. “I’m going to ruin this pussy.”

“Ruin it,” you said, challenging him as your lusty, hooded eyes connected with his.

It took everything in Ethan to not immediately start pounding into you, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He started slow, your eyebrows already furrowing together, low moans slipping past your lips. The head of his cock hit that special spot every single time, but you needed more. He sped up a little as your legs wrapped around him, your hands gripped tightly around his biceps.

“Maybe you can take it,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Can I go faster?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, as his hips moved quicker.

Your brain was starting to turn to mush, the babbles slipping past your lips making absolutely no sense. The only thing your mind could process in that moment was how good Ethan was making you feel. He thought you were adorable, already so cock drunk, and he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet. He kept his pace, but occasionally thrust a little harder to see if you could take it, the loud moans slipping past your lips as your nails started to dig into his arms letting him know that you could.

He angled your hips to go even deeper. His pace was a little slow as he made sure you were okay. Your eyes were pleading with him to go faster, because you knew the words weren’t going to come out of your mouth. It was getting so hard for him to hold back, so he finally let go. He started to pound into you so hard that your skin was tingling, all the nerves in your body on edge. Your toes were curling as he slammed into your g-spot, your whimpers turning to cries as you felt your orgasm starting to build. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, and you were sure Ethan was going to have your nail marks on his arms forever with how hard you were squeezing him.

“Fuck,” was the only word you were able to get out, your legs wrapping tightly around him as your body started to involuntarily jolt. Ethan was sure that everyone in the surrounding dorm rooms knew what was happening, because you were being so loud. He wasn’t letting up though. He loved that he was making you feel that good.

It only took a few more deep thrusts before your entire body started to tremble, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the wave of euphoria washed over you. He chased his own orgasm as he fucked you through it, your pussy clenching him so tight that he was moaning himself.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice from all the panting he’d been doing.

You went limp, your grip on his arms and your legs around his waist relaxing as his hips started to falter, a loud groan slipping past his lips as he released into the condom.

He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of you. His abs were burning and his arms were sore from your nails, but he quickly got up to take the condom off so he could take care of you.

He crawled in the bed next to you as you adjusted to lay your head on his chest, still so fucked out that it was hard to process your thoughts. Ethan just held you close, his hands softly rubbing over your bare back as you relaxed into his touches.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked, after a few minutes of you not saying anything. You lazily nodded as your hand moved to rub across his chest.

You laid there in silence as you started to think about what’d just happened. You knew your friend was going to be pissed if she ever found out, but did that even matter? She made almost the entire university hate Ethan for things he never did, and it made you sad that he felt like he needed to switch to a different school so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

“So…” you finally said, “How can I convince you to stay?”

He let out a nervous laugh, not knowing the best way to respond. “I can’t take people talking about me the way they do anymore.”

“Even if I convince everyone that it was all lies?” you questioned, your tone playful as you angled your head to look at him. “I think it’d be awful for you to leave because of her. You could miss out on someone that would treat you right.”

“Someone like you?” he questioned as he looked down at you. You nodded, before he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re good at this whole convincing thing.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” you asked, smiling as you sat up to look at him.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t break my heart,” he said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down to his chest.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in Ethan’s bed for a couple hours, making plans for all the dates he wanted to take you on. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than just a few days, the two of you having an instant connection. You hated to pull away from him, but you knew you needed to get dressed before his roommate got home.

“It’s late, can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked, as he started to put his clothes back on.

“I can’t believe I thought you were this horrible monster. You’re so sweet,” you said, as he smiled at you. “Yeah, you can walk me home.”

Ethan walked you to the front door of your building, pulling you into a gentle kiss before he pulled away.

“I’ll text you,” he said, as he started to back away.

“Yeah, let me know when you make it back to your dorm, please,” you said, as he nodded.

When you made it upstairs and got settled into your bed, you heard your phone vibrate as it charged on your bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a goodnight message from Ethan, a huge smile on your face as you responded to him. You were so exhausted from the time you’d spend with him, and you soon felt yourself start to doze off. You heard your phone buzz again, your eyes lazily opening to see if it was Ethan. You took a deep breath once you read the message that was sent to you.

‘Why the fuck were you kissing Ethan at that party?’

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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moonit3 · 7 months

Note

hii could i please get a part 2 of the yandere apocalypse survivor x reader? i love so much you could say im obsessed!! <33

of course you can! honestly i was already thinking in writing a second part and your request only made me more energetic to write it! i decided to write it like a story instead of the headcanons from the previously part. also, keep in mind this post contain noncon, so be aware of it! pt.1 here

SURVIVORS pt.2

➥ warnings/notices: yandere themes, nsfw, noncon oral, threats, gn! reader, obsession, male genitalia, reader! submissive, yandere! dominant, blood, rough, mentioned murders, reader is tied up and unable to escape, reader gets hit once.

➥ yandere apocalypse survivor x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: theo shows his true self and now you face the consequences of letting him inside.

➥ a/n: i consider this as my darkest post that i released, so be careful approaching this one, okay? don’t force yourself to read it if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable.

father was right. you shouldn’t have let anyone inside the bunker.

“t-theo!” with little strength in your body, you try to hold him back, creating a small distance between his thing to enter your hole. it’s inevitable that he will do it, but there is enough hope that he won’t do it today. “We can talk about it! Just wait—“

he slaps you, it’s hurts like hell. the expression on his face scares you, staring at you like you were nothing but a mere toy to his amusement. theo never saw you as a friend, has he? the duct he takes out of his pockets says all, he uses it to ties your hands.

this is getting worse every second goes by, but what can you do to fight him? you look across the bedroom to try to find anything to use against him, a knife, glass or something else to open the bunker’s door to escape. its doesn’t matter that creatures are outside to kill you, at least, you won’t be near theo.

however, you don’t see nothing that could help you escape from him, not a single glass bottle nor the small blade that you always put in the nightstand. he planned this, oh god. you are stupid to think this happened without a reason behind.

“now, now…don’t think of escaping from me, [name].” he made you kneel in the cold floor, making your skin shiver and how he holds you chin to look directly to his sharp eyes doesn’t help either. “you are mine, understand? from now on, you will live under my guidance and don’t ever think of stepping out of this bunker, now that you’ve become my love.”

“im sorry?” this wasn’t meant to be speak out loud, but you let it escape in the last second. you expected him to yell, maybe another slap, but he just caresses your [h/c] with a sickly smile on the lips. he brings your face closer to his.

“don’t worry, sweetie.” he said, moving your head to face the bulge on his pants, its growing large just because you are staring at it in a mixed of surprise and fear. “i know you are inexperienced in love. you have been for so long that you don’t understand how humans act with the person they are in love, but im here to help you with that.”

he forced you into kneeling again, but this time there is his cock right in front of your eyes. it’s big and there is the liquid already dripping from the top, a view you won’t forget so soon. theo smiles seeing your reaction, the fear in your face says that you already knows what is going to happen, but it’s seems that you need a little help from him.

“you never saw a cock, haven’t you?” he smirked, already knowing the answers. “I can help if you want to be less painful for someone who never suck a cock before. you want some help from me?”

you nodded. trying to contain yourself from crying, this wasn’t supposed to be happening. do you deserve to be treated like this? you didn’t got time to think of an answer as theo made you open your lips to accommodate his member, instantly choking you.

it’s to big! and his head holding the back of your head is making it worse, you mouth is reaching the base of his shaft, leaving no time to breath nor get used to his large size. theo is hurting your throat and he knows that.

you want to remove yourself away from theo, just to at least catch up some air, but every time you show some sign that you are removing your mouth away from his cock to inhale the air, theo keeps forcing your head to take part of his length of his member and for one last attempt, he makes you take all of him.

“don’t you dare ruin it!” he slaps your face without hesitation. a large mark is now on the left side of your cheek and tears are flowing from your eyes, blurring your view. “im almost done, so don’t dare to ruin it if you don’t want to die!”

there are few more attempts to remove yourself from theo as you could feel his thrust getting sloppy and the few faint moans escaping your lips his making him love this moment. theo won’t forget this moment as he finally gets to what he is having being waiting for so long while you will get nightmares of this whatever you close your eyes.

it took a minute or so to theo to finally come, letting his cum coming down your throat. it’s taste weird and salty, you won’t forget of this taste so soon. theo only removed himself when he was sure you had swollen til the last drop of the white liquid.

he admires you. how you are eyes are so shaken from this whole situation, your tied hands are incapable of protecting you from him and you even refuse to raise your head. theo broken you, just like he always wanted and now he will rebuild you to be his perfect toy partner.

———————\\——————

@moonit3 writings

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere original character #yandere writing #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere smut #yandere x reader #tw yandere #te noncon #my oc theo #yandere x y/n #gender neutral reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

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sydnikov · 2 months

Text

Being Bold || S. Jarvis

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Seth Jarvis / fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary: Seth has a crush on you. A bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. Much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to Seth’s advances.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (birth control usage), oral (f receiving), very slight age gap (reader is 2 years older), alcohol mention, alcoholic consumption, minor mention of violence including blood, cursing

A/N: Wow. This one is something (it’s just smut with a small bit of plot don’t mind my dramatics). Here’s the jarvy debauchery as promised ✨ until the next, thanks for the support as always!

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

You’ve only seen Seth Jarvis as a kid.

Well, maybe ‘kid’ is too strong of a word to describe the immaturity gap. You’re only two years older than him, but it’s just that how he acts gives you the impression of a boy.

Not a man, but a boy. And it drives Seth absolutely insane.

He first meets you the year he joins the Hurricanes because you’re friends with the social media director (he later finds out you’re close to Lottie, Jesperi’s girlfriend, as well). He remembers the night vividly, what you were wearing, how soft your hand felt against the calluses on his own. How you looked at him, amusement and softness in the smile you flashed him.

Seth was smitten. Still is, actually, because you’re around more than ever. He sees you everywhere. After games, and even just around Raleigh because you live in the area.

He tries asking you out. Numerous times, but much to his chagrin you always turn him down.

“We just met, Seth.” A week after you first shake his hand.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Well, he did. But, in his defense, he’d just broken up with her after he moved.

“I’m too old for you.” That one hurt, because that’s when he finds out you’re only two years older.

Seth is nothing if not persistent, though. He doesn’t give up even after all the rejections. He’s also pretty sure your reluctance is because you think he’s never touched a woman in his life.

Presumptuous, right? Andrei thinks so when Seth tells him after playing Call of Duty for several hours, but he recounts a conversation you had with Lottie (he still owes her and Jesperi a drink for that, actually) after Seth begged her to slide a good word in.

“You’re not into the mustache?” Lottie had giggled, taking a sip of her martini.

You were drinking a whiskey sour, which he knows because he bought it for you but had Lottie say it was from her. Your face burned red, either because of the alcohol or the question, he doesn’t know.

“No, no,” You laughed. “I like mustaches. And a nice stubble. They feel good on the thighs.”

“So what’s the problem? He’s in love with you, basically.”

“Isn’t he, like, I don’t know… Nineteen?” You had drawled, faking indifference while mixing around the olive in your drink with the little straw it came with.

“He’s twenty-two, babe.” She smirked. “Only two years younger.”

Lottie says she thinks you’re just wary of his immaturity. When he tries defending himself, Jesperi reminds him that he scored a goal the other night, pointed at you behind the glass where you sat with Lottie, and then proceeded to griddy.

Word on the street is that you weren’t impressed.

Nonetheless, Seth can’t change his personality for you, as much as he considers it. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you, but if you truly think you’re too good for him then he does have enough self respect to walk away and get over it.

But… He just doesn’t think that’s the case, here. You only seem reluctant—that’s it.

“You can’t force her to sleep with you, Jarvy.” Andrei tells him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“I know.” He groans, his chin falling into his hand. “What do I do, then?” And truly, he’s run out of ideas. He’s played silly, nice, gentleman… What else is there left for him to do, other than give up?

Seth thinks of your radiant smile, then groans to himself because fuck. He really doesn’t want to give up.

“Give her space?” Andrei suggests. “Have you tried, just… Going away?” He frowns for a moment, trying to think of the right words in English. “Not ‘going away’—”

“Space? You think she just needs space?”

“Well, not too much space—”

“Svechy you're a genius.” Seth interrupts, jumping out of his seat with renown vigor. “I’ll buy you a drink for this, remind me!” And then he’s springing up from the couch, grabbing his keys and sprinting out the front door.

Andrei blinks. Once, twice, then shakes his head with a laugh. He feels like he should warn you, then promptly decides this is not something he wants to get in the middle of.

Seth takes his teammate’s advice to heart, and gives you the space he thinks you need to process his zealous pursuit of you. He can tell it catches you off guard because he’s stopped following you around like a lost puppy, along with all of the antics normally associated with his creative flirting.

In fact, it’s such a sudden change from what you’re used to that it freaks you out. Hurts a little bit, too, because did he just wake up one day disgusted by the thought of you?

You tell yourself you’re disturbed because you miss the attention. It’s been a while since you’ve had a guy foam at the mouth for you, after all, so now that it’s gone you’re just going through withdrawals.

It’s more than that, though, and you won’t admit it to yourself but when you spy him chatting it up with other girls your stomach twists in a way that you know screams trouble.

Maybe it’s because you just ended things with your latest boyfriend - a bore of a man who couldn’t make time for you outside of his work - and the vulnerability of being alone yet again is getting to you.

Is Seth really so bad? You think about him sometimes, when you’re alone in your apartment or even right in front of him. You’ve always had a soft spot for him, sure, but nothing more than friendly affection.

You’re questioning this now, when his attention is no longer being directed at you, because you distinctly remember him getting into a fight with some other player on the ice, and that’s the first time you remember thinking man and not boy.

The team it was against escapes you, but you remember someone getting in Sebastian’s space with a raised arm, and then Seth came flying in with a fist to the opposing player’s face and a lot of colorful words. Your jaw had dropped as the referees tore them apart, his hair dripping with sweat and a cut welling with blood dripping down his forehead.

The moment forces you to think that maybe altogether, his energetic personality, a smile that never leaves his face, and the unwavering loyalty for his friends combined isn’t such a bad thing after all. The revelation leaves you shaking and feeling quite awkward when he’s around, or even just being brought up.

“Do you miss Scott?” Lottie asks you one day when you’re out for lunch at Perry’s - a steakhouse near her apartment in North Hills - referring to your aforementioned ex-boyfriend. Even his name is boring.

You laugh a little, unable to not roll your eyes though your ire isn’t directed at her. “No. I knew it wasn’t going to last when I got into it, anyways.”

“It’s been about two weeks since you broke up with him.” She says, a statement rather than a question. The look on her face tells you she’s trying to go somewhere with this. “Has anyone caught your eye lately? You’re too pretty to be single, you know.”

It’s obvious that Lottie is trying to ask if you’ve reconsidered Seth at all. It’s been the talk of your whole friend group, including the guys, that he’s suddenly stopped in his bold pursuit of you, though none of them think it’s because he’s lost interest.

“I don’t know.” You whine, begrudgingly stabbing a piece of potato with your fork. “I mean, he’s… Seth.”

“Seth, who has spent his entire time on the Hurricanes trying to win you over?” She says with a raised brow. “Just because he’s had his fun doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”

You don’t have a response to that, so instead you just nod. She is right, as much as you hate to admit it. Seth is a successful professional hockey player in his prime, of course he’s been with his fair share of women and will continue to do so as long as he’s single.

If that was your case you’d certainly be having fun, too.

“If his casualness towards dating really bothers you, you should just talk to him.” Lottie says after a moment. “He’s dying for you to speak to him, I swear it.”

You concede. “I’ll talk to him the next time I see him.”

Fortunately for you, that ‘next time’ doesn’t happen for quite a few more weeks, and when you do finally run into him again it’s when you’re slightly tipsy, drinking at a bar near to PNC Arena after the boys have won a game.

You don’t even take note of his presence at first, in the middle of gossiping with some of your friends who just so happen to know the players.

The gossip? Your ex-boyfriend, Scott, and his inability to make you come.

“I mean, he wasn’t bad or anything.” You say. “He had all the knowledge and stuff, just, like, couldn’t do anything. Y’know?” You’re slurring your words a little bit, but everyone around you nods like you’re making some big, important speech.

“So did you have to fake it?” Someone asks. You can’t even remember how Scott was brought up in the first place.

You giggle; you can’t help it. “Oh my god, yes, sometimes it was so bad I had to say I was cramping just to get him to stop trying.” That sends everyone into boisterous laughter, and in your slight drunkenness you can’t help but join in.

The song changes then, and it must be one everyone knows because it scatters you and the rest of the girls into smaller groups, some running to the dance floor while others wander back to the bar. You stay seated, however, content to watch as you sip your drink.

“Whiskey sour?” That’s when Seth makes his presence known. His voice murmured in your ear catches you off guard, and you jump a little as you turn to face him. “Seth.” You greet, not unkindly. “Yeah, but it’s only my second.”

Just as soon as he appeared, he’s jumping back up from his seat next to you. “I’ll get you a third.” You don’t have time to protest as he disappears, and your affection for this rambunctious man only continues to grow as he bounds back moments later, sliding you your drink with a smug grin.

“Thank you.” You smile, a little shy, a little bashful, as you take your first sip. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Anything for my girl.” Ah, there it is. You’re unable to hide the obvious roll of your eyes, but Seth’s smile doesn’t waver. “Not your girl, Seth. Just got out of a relationship, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He says. “Scott, right? Sounds like that was doomed from the start.”

You narrow your eyes, unsure of the knowing tone he’s taken on. “And how would you know?”

“He couldn’t make you come, yeah? What a tool.”

Suddenly, your throat is very dry, and you’re taking a very large sip of whiskey that has you wincing. So… He heard you say that, then. Is it hot in here? You have the sudden urge to fan yourself. Fuck fuck fuck. Seth, of all people, should not be making your thighs clench.

You don’t realize how silent you’ve gotten until he speaks up again. “I could make you, you know.”

That has you choking, and you quickly throw back the rest of your drink to soothe your throat. “What?” When you finally meet Seth’s eyes, he’s still grinning at you, though it’s more carnal. His eyes darken as he responds.

“Come. I could get you to come so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.”

Your reply is meek, knowing deep down inside you’re fighting a losing battle. “Have you even touched a girl before?” He scoffs, and you know as well as he does that he’s been with his fair share of women. It’s one of the reasons you’re so hesitant to take him seriously.

Seth is undeterred, though, as he slides even closer to you. You stare straight ahead, determined not to meet his eyes even though you’re positive there’s a red flush creeping up your neck as his breath tickles your ear.

He says your name, a low purr that’s almost mocking like he can see right through your bullshit because finally, he’s breaking through to you. “You know I have. None of them are you, though.”

You squirm in your seat as his hand creeps up your shoulders, grasping the back of your neck as he gently turns your head to face him. He squeezes reassuringly, and now you’re melting into his embrace as a gasp falls from your lips.

“I want you. You know that, baby.”

“Seth…”

“Let me show you, please?” Then those warm eyes are bearing into your own, and now you’re getting a glimpse of the boy you first met all over again. This time, though, instead of feeling innocent affection all you feel now is heat.

You were stupid to think the adoration he never hesitates to show for you wouldn’t win you over eventually.

Blinking owlishly, you move one of your hands to grip his arm, looking so dainty against the rugged muscle under his skin, and, well. You cave.

“Okay.”

Seth doesn’t expect you to give in so easily. He freezes, doesn’t move until you gain your wits back and pinch his thigh with a gentle roll of your eyes. “Are you just going to sit there or should I find someone else to entertain me?”

That gets him moving. It’s his turn to look anxious as he runs a hand through his hair, still processing the fact that he didn’t have to convince you more. He wasn’t actually expecting to get this far with you—quite literally, the woman of his dreams.

“Shit, okay.” He laughs, jumping out of his seat and lacing his fingers with yours. “You’re serious, then.”

“Somehow.” You deadpan. Somehow your legs are still clenching and your heart is beating a little too fast to be normal. “Don’t fuck it up.”

He looks to you, a little terrified, and you can’t help but break the irritated front and send him a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly even as your words are all snark. Truthfully, you’re also scared, but not of the sex, but rather the developing feelings that might grow deeper afterwards.

You just got out of yet another disappointing relationship. You don’t want whatever this is with Seth to end with the same result.

He does a good job of distracting you from your destructive thoughts, though, as he pulls you out of the bar like two teenagers trying to sneak away from their parents. You suppose it’s not unlike that same feeling because Jesperi catches your eye as you exit the doors, and he sends you such a shit-eating grin it has you ducking your head to avoid his obnoxious stare.

You suppose you do owe him a favor now after all.

For the first time ever, standing outside in the biting cold, Seth kisses you as you’re waiting for an Uber. You being busy trying to look like you’re not about to go hook up, he suddenly grabs you by the waist and smooths his lips against yours so good your toes curl.

“Fuck.” He murmurs into your mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.” His teeth catch your bottom lip, and you unabashedly moan. You run your hands up his chest, around his shoulders, and to the back of his neck where you card your fingers through thick strands of hair, tugging from the roots.

“Seth…” You gasp when he detaches his lips from your own only for him to smooth down your jawline, then down to your neck where he sucks wet kisses into your sensitive skin. “Fuck, we’re in public.” With a hiss, you pull him away from your neck and pointedly ignore the wetness in your panties when he groans at the loss of contact.

He looks at you like a baby getting its favorite toy taken away, and you can’t ignore how his desperation turns you on wildly. It takes everything in you to not let him go back to feasting on your neck.

“When’s the Uber getting here?” You ask after a moment. You’re both panting, tipsy from the taste of each other’s lips as you try to catch your breath.

Seth pulls out his phone, and as you admire the way the light illuminates his face you completely miss the words coming from his mouth.

You flush. “Say that again?” Seth grins wickedly, brings you in by the back of your neck and kisses you, then pulls away too soon for your liking. “The Uber. It’s right here.” He then wraps an arm around your waist, digging his fingers deliciously into your skin, and leads you into the Uber as it arrives right on time.

He rattles off his address to the driver, then settles back into the seats. His arm snakes around your shoulders, and you hum your appreciation as you sink into his chest. You feel him kiss the top of your head in response.

You could fall asleep, if you really wanted to. The sudden switch in mood from carnal desperation to gentle affection would give you whiplash if you weren’t so at ease resting against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The drive passes fairly quickly, and Seth doesn’t stop touching you as you make your way up the elevator to his apartment. His hand sneaks to your ass, giving it a squeeze before you slap his arm away.

“Cameras!” You hiss, though it’s with little mirth as a small smile curves up your lips. Seth merely laughs, slides his hand back down to rest on your lower back. “They don’t care. Now c’mere.”

You make out until you can’t breathe, and as you pull away it’s just in time as the elevator doors open. Your heart rate picks up, and you hide your nerves as he grabs your hand and practically sprints out of the elevator with you.

“We have all night, you know.” You giggle, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. Seth groans playfully, but his words strike you as serious even as he masks it with a grin.

“Not long enough, babe.”

You don’t respond, partly because you don’t know how to and partly because he’s just unlocked his door, and you’re too busy taking in his apartment. You’ve been to Andrei’s house numerous times, Jesperi and Lottie's apartment, Jordan’s for his famous house parties… It’s just now that you’re realizing you don’t actually know Seth all that well.

What you do know, though, is that he’s eyeing you like he can’t wait to devour you, and the reminder that you don’t even know his favorite color exits your mind as you sidle up to his chest, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit to drag his lips down to yours.

“Time to impress me, lover boy.” You hum into his mouth, fighting a shiver when he nips at your bottom lip. Seth chuckles, one of his hands sliding down your back to squeeze your ass, the other tugging your hair back to expose your neck.

He kisses your cheek once, twice, mouths at your collarbone with teasing bites that have your eyes fluttering shut, and then it’s like he loses patience as suddenly his hands are picking you up by your thighs and curling your legs around his waist.

You squeak in surprise. “Seth!” You admonish, because of course it turns you on that he’s able to throw you around effortlessly. He seems to have that effect on you.

Seth maneuvers the two of you through his darkened apartment with ease, knowing the route to his bedroom like the back of his hand. Your attempts at distracting him include sucking a bright red hickey on his neck, fully intending it for it to be bright enough that his teammates give him hell for it the next day.

Once he pushes open the door with his foot, he brings you to the foot of his bed and unceremoniously drops you. You scoff with indignation at his manhandling, though you know he knows you like it if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

A tiger stalking its prey, Seth crawls on top of you and meets your eager lips in another kiss. His hands smooth down the curves of your hips to your thighs, slowly spreading them open. He mumbles something, and you miss it completely.

“Hm?” You run your hands through his hair, enjoying the way the black strands are moussed from your touch. Your shirt is also already halfway up your torso as he helps you tear it off. “I said I’ll wear your marks proudly. My girl.” He coos, flicking open the clasp of your bra and immediately moving down to your chest.

“Fuck.” He groans. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Your laugh quickly turns to a gasp as he sucks your right nipple into his mouth.

Your other nipple is taken by his fore-finger and thumb, rolling the sensitive nub between the calloused pads. Between him sucking on one tit and playing with the other, you’re practically a whimpering mess, trying to simultaneously wiggle out of his grip yet get closer at the same time.

“Seth,” You whine. “I need you.” You’re admitting it openly, foregoing coyness in favor of your own pleasure. Yeah, so what? You like this overgrown puppy of a man, and you really want to fuck him. Pulling his head back by his hair, you eagerly slam your lips back together.

“Need me?” He grins against your lips. “Where do you need me? Gotta be specific, babe, because I can be here,” He emphasizes a quick squeeze to your tit. “Here,” The other hand smooths over your ass. “Or here...” He trails off into a low rumble, parting your eager thighs.

Based on the tortured groan he lets out, you assume he can probably feel the wetness that’s soaked through your jeans. You’re too turned on to be embarrassed, though.

“Damn it, Seth, just touch me.” You hiss, keeping his hand pressed between your thighs while the other is already working open the button of your jeans. “Fucking tease.” You mutter, though it’s light-hearted and he knows it based on his snicker.

He helps you peel off the rest of your jeans, throwing them somewhere behind you. It’ll be fun trying to hunt for those in the morning. When he sees the dainty white lace covering your pussy, he lets out his most needy sound yet.

“Shit.” He breathes. “Wore these for me? So pretty. My pretty baby.” He murmurs as he thumbs the lace, running two fingers over the soaked fabric. If you could see, you’d guarantee his pupils are blown wide.

Your hips rise at the friction, wanting more. And because you’re still hellbent on resisting him, apparently, you roll your eyes, spitting out your next words. “You knew I was coming home with you, didn’t you? Asshole.” Though your words are all snark, your tone screams laughter.

Strangely enough, the banter gets you off more than any dirty talk in the world. It’s familiar, relaxing, and Seth clearly doesn’t mind either as he merely chuckles. “I just know you that well, don't I?” The look on his face offers no room for argument.

And, well, you suppose he isn’t wrong. You are here in his bed at the end of the day, right?

You grumble something that to his ears sounds like ‘shut up’ and then you’re sliding your panties down your thighs, letting him take care of the rest as, like your other clothes, he tosses them somewhere behind him.

If you thought the sight of your covered pussy would get the best reaction from him, it’s nothing compared to the way his entire body freezes at seeing it bare.

You’d had a feeling something big was going to happen after Lottie's sly words, so you took the liberty of shaving everywhere just two nights before. You’re glad for that, as Seth is looking at the heat between your legs like he doesn’t know where to start.

Teasing him in a normal setting about not knowing how to touch a woman is one thing, but making a remark now as anxious anticipation is all over his face just feels wrong.

You do like him, after all—quite a bit, you’re coming to find.

Reaching out your hand, you wait for him to grasp it before you pull him down to hover over your awaiting form. “C’mere, baby.” The pet-name slips without thought, but you can’t make yourself regret it because the way his face lights up is a look you won’t forget any time soon.

He laughs a little as your eyes finally meet, like he can’t believe he’s actually about to fuck you and you’re going to let him. “Tell me how to touch you?” He asks, not a demand but more of a request.

Taking his right hand, you lead him down the length of your body, over your breasts and down your stomach until your hands are resting just below your navel. “You know how to find the clit?” You tease, partly joking and partly serious.

Seth scoffs like the very thought offends him, and the mild dig does its job of making him forget his earlier nervousness.

“Of course I know where the fucking clit is,” He replies, pointer and middle finger already sliding down and gathering the slickness lathered in your lower lips. “Scott is such a dumbass.”

Well, it seems the familiar, cocky Seth is back now.

“...didn’t even realize what a bombshell he had right in front of him.” You miss the first part of his sentence because he did, in fact, find your clit, and unlike your ex, knows exactly how to touch it.

Your mouth opens into an ‘o’, and Seth hums a pleased noise as his fingers work your sensitive clit into a swollen, throbbing mess. Your hips move in time with the flicks of his fingers and you don’t even realize you’re panting until Seth leans forward and licks a stripe all the way from your navel down to your soaked opening.

When you start bucking into his mouth, he grabs your hips and holds them down to the bed, forcing you to take it. You whine, hands finding purchase in his hair as his tongue laps at you like you’re his favorite meal. He dips into your entrance in time with the quick circles he’s drawing over your clit, and oh, suddenly you’re much closer than you thought.

“Tastes so good.” You hear him grunt. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Seth,” Gasping, you can’t decide if you want to keep him close or shove him away. “Shit. Seth, fuck, I’m close.”

“Yeah? Already?” Your confession only seems to reinvigorate his efforts, and the next thing you know two long fingers are sliding their way into your cunt. “Gonna come for me?”

Quicker than you expect he finds the sensitive wall of flesh inside you, and his fingers curl up against it which sends you keening. Loudly. You slap a hand over your mouth, but Seth quickly tears it away.

“Nobody here but me and you.” He grins, and just to rub it in, presses a hot kiss to your clit. “I wanna hear you scream.”

“What a gentleman.” You manage to squeeze out, and in revenge for your snark he immediately sucks your clit between his lips and rapidly curls his fingers inside you.

Seth watches with hooded eyes as your own squeeze shut, teeth biting into your kiss-swollen lips while your hands tug at his hair. Your thighs are shaking on each side of his head, and suddenly he wants you to come for him like his life depends on it.

“You gonna come?” He asks. Your walls clamp around his fingers and he knows you’re close. “Yeah? Can you come for me? I know you want to.”

Your entire body shakes all while he keeps you tethered to the bed. Your mind, though, is floating, and you can practically see white as his lips don’t stop sucking, his fingers don’t stop curling, and it’s too much but also not enough and you want to shove him away yet demand he never stops touching you.

And your high is right there, you can practically taste it, but your body is wound so tight and you can’t remember the last time you’ve let go that you remain stuck right on the edge.

There are tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tug at his hair. Seth meets your eyes, looks a little concerned after reading the desperation on your face, and then understands when a broken moan tumbles past your lips.

Seth, a little shit as always, brings you back to the edge with his words alone. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” He slips in a third finger. “Bet you haven’t had anyone make you feel like this. Just me. Hopefully always me.”

“Seth,” You croak. “Please.”

“I’ve got you.” He urges. “Let go for me. You’re right there, I know it. You’re so tight, fuck, there you go.”

His mocking words echo in your mind with the low drawl of his voice, dark eyes staring at you like you’re a feast, and his damn fingers curling just right against your spongy wall.

His free hand suddenly moves, presses down over your lower abdomen, and oh. “Such a good girl.” Seth croons as you fall apart.

It’s the last thing you hear as your vision goes white, and the heat in your body explodes with wave after wave of ecstasy pumping from the tips of your toes all the way to the hair on your head. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re pretty sure you’re making some sort of strangled noise as you ride your high that seems to go on forever.

By the time you come back, your legs are still shaking and Seth is still gently stroking your inner walls with careful circles around your clit. He's my gazing up at you with pure, unbridled adoration and the emotion in his eyes makes your heart thump.

You don’t even realize your fingers are still tangled in his hair until you have to let go because they’re cramping, and then Seth finally removes his fingers and slowly crawls back up your body.

You’re still catching your breath when he presses a long, soft kiss to your lips. “How was that?” He questions almost shyly. His need for reassurance might have had a past you rolling your eyes, but right now all you want to do is hold him and thank him for making you feel so good.

Especially after Scott. Asshole.

You shudder, clit still throbbing as you wrap your arms around his heavy shoulders and bring his weight down on top of you. His very hard cock brushes against your hip with the movement, and you’re reminded that he hasn’t had any semblance of relief yet.

“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s definitely weird to thank someone after they eat you out, right? Probably, but you don’t really care.

His lips brush against your cheek in response, heart swelling at the gentle vulnerability you’re showing him. He’s planning on running to the bathroom to get you a towel, but freezes when he feels your hands peeling off the suit he totally forgot he was wearing.

“Babe?” He mumbles, a little confusingly, but all you do is kiss him and that shuts him up. He doesn’t break contact even as he shrugs off the rest of his suit, peeling off his undershirt until he’s more than halfway bare. Your hands carve lines over the hard planes of muscle on his chest, scratching lightly with your nails over his nipples which has him flinching into your mouth. Snickering, you make your way down the rest of his chest, past his waist, under his boxers, and then you’re wrapping your hand around his hot, pulsating dick.

Seth groans, almost collapsing on top of you as you squeeze lightly. It’s a dream come true, him touching you and now you touching him. He wants to close his eyes at the feeling of your gentle strokes, but he insists on keeping them open to watch the enraptured look on your face.

Then your other hand moves, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them over his hips and that’s when he jerks back to the present. “Sweetheart,” He gasps. “You… You don’t have to.”

You smile at his breathlessness. “You don’t want to fuck me?” You pout, though it quickly turns back into a grin when his eyes widen in panic. Another day you’d blow him, when you aren’t so desperate to get him inside you.

Seth briefly removed himself from on top of you to lean over his bed, rifling through his nightstand drawer. You assume he’s looking for a condom and that his efforts fail when he eventually closes the drawer with a curse.

He looks back to you, all messy hair, swollen lips, and glistening eyes. “I don’t have a condom.” He informs regretfully.

“I’m on the pill, if you’re…” You trail off, unsure. “If you’re okay with that. And I’m clean.”

“Hell yes I’m okay with that.” He breathes. His cock hardens even more at the thought of feeling you raw, if even possible. “I’m clean too.” And then he’s kissing you again, long and slow and deep, and you’re happy to let him take the lead as your brain is still trying to play catch-up from your orgasm.

Seth eventually breaks away only to reattach to your neck, nipping at the skin likely already covered in his marks, hands now making their way back down your body. He playfully flicks your nipple as he does so, grins when you flinch upwards.

“Have I told you how much I love your body?” He says in-between kisses, almost like an afterthought. He’s in the middle of spreading your thighs open, fingers slipping through your leftover wetness and brushing your clit when you respond.

You help in his endeavors, raising your legs to curl over his hips as he situates himself on top of you. “You’ve mentioned it a few times, I think.” You reply, breath hitching when his cock presses against you.

“It’s perfect.” He continues, like he didn’t even hear you. “You’re perfect.” He wraps his hand around his dick, guides the head to your entrance and pushes in. All words escape you, and your head falls back with a moan.

He sinks into you with a pleasurable sound of his own, eyes squeezing shut as your warmth envelops him. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he thrusts slowly into you, bottoming out. “So tight.” He hisses.

“Oh, fuck,” You whimper, digging your nails into his back. Seth stills, thinking he's hurting you. “Shit, am I—”

“Don’t you dare stop.” You quickly interrupt, crying out when his tip rubs against your sensitive inner walls just right. Seth relaxes at your words, a cocky grin spreading over his face. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckles, picking up the speed of his thrusts.

Like before when his tongue was in you, it doesn’t take you long before noises are escaping your throat uncontrollably or for your legs to tremble from where they’re wrapped around his waist. The sensations are more because you’re already so sensitive, so strung-up, and so eager for another release that you give up any pretenses of trying to play cool.

Your head lolls back onto the bed, all strength leaving your body as Seth happily does all the work on top. Quick, short pants are coming from his mouth, and his chest is heavy where it presses down against yours. With every thrust his pelvis is rocking into your clit, sending sparks up your body as you clench rhythmically around his cock. It’s burning you from the inside-out in the best way possible, and very quickly you’re already approaching the edge.

You try to express your impending release, but all that’s able to come from your mouth is one long moan. Seth, somehow, knows exactly what that noise means, and is suddenly pulling out. “What the fuck?” You practically shout with indignation, glaring at the man on top of you with squinted eyes.

Ever the comedian, he only laughs at your irritation. “Hold on, bear with me.” His hands grab your waist, then rolls you over onto your stomach. He raises your hips, pushing down on your lower back into an arch, and all previous complaints leave you as he’s unable to help himself and runs his hands over your ass.

You’ll think later on why him being unfazed with your attitude makes your heart warm.

“Spread your legs for me.” He murmurs, tapping at the junction between your thighs. You do as he says, and shiver when his fingers go to part your cunt once you’re open. You can’t see his face, but imagine the look on it to be one of enrapturement. You turn your head finally, pressing your hips down onto his hand where it remains touching you.

Your earlier guess was right; his pupils are blown wide, jaw hung open just a little bit at having this view of you from behind. Meeting his eyes, you stare imploringly.

While the sudden need for him scares you, you don’t shy away. Rather, you meet his desires head-on in the form of pushing your hips back against him when he finally pushes in, smothering a whimper as his body looms over yours.

Neither of you talk in favor of letting your pleasure speak for you. The new position feels more intimate, oddly enough; his chest presses onto you from every angle, and you can feel his breath every time he pants into your ear. At the same time his arms are wrapped around your waist, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips while he thrusts into you from behind.

All too soon you’re reaching your peak just like before, and the buildup feels so sweet because he’s hitting you deeper, unrelenting in his thrusts despite how your arms collapse from underneath you. Seth doesn’t flinch, merely picks you back up and presses a hand to your abdomen to keep you there.

With your arms free, you realize that your clit is feeling neglected, and as you sneak your right hand in-between your legs he’s suddenly beating you to it, slapping your own hand away and replacing it with his own.

When it’s all said and done, you don’t think you’ll ever forget the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive nub so deliciously. Between his dick rutting into your sweet spot mercilessly and the rough pads of fingers stimulating your clit, your eyes are slamming shut with your mouth opening in a silent scream as for the second time that night, Seth is sending you into release.

He carries you through it with noncommittal praise while you’re lost in white noise and starry vision. The sight of you crumbling beneath him sends sparks throughout his body, and it doesn’t take long between the rhythmic clenching of your cunt and the pleasured sounds falling from your lips for him to flood your insides with his cum.

“Oh, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck.” Seth loses any semblance of restraint of trying to be gentle, as his last thrusts rattle your frame and have you whimpering by the time he’s done releasing, your overstimulated clit throbbing in time with the slow rocks of your calming bodies. “So good. You did so good, yeah?” Seth is rumbling into your ear, voice hoarse and tired as he carefully slides out of you. Eyes still closed, you flinch at your sensitivity. “Sorry, babe.” He whispers, having to regroup for a moment as his softening cock meets cool air after being buried inside you.

You attempt to speak, but the only sound that leaves your mouth is a groan as your aching limbs stretch. You don’t bother opening your eyes yet, either, perfectly content to lay in your post-orgasmic pleasure and not think about the future.

Seth doesn’t let you wallow for long, however, as he’s suddenly leaning over you again. “Can you turn over? I have a towel, it’s warm.” He asks, back to shy and unsure. Now that you’re not caught up in the throes of sex, he’s not quite sure how you’re going to act. “You also need to go pee.”

Your default moods of snarky and mildly irritated is what he gets. “No.” You grumble, though it’s not mean as you bury your head in his pillow, still flat on your stomach. Having no energy to move, you don’t expect Seth to do anything about it, either.

He raises a brow at your sass, not quite sure if he should be relieved or concerned. Huffing, he makes a grab for your hips. “Guess I’m carrying you to the bathroom, then.”

“Seth!” You shriek as he attempts to manhandle you, a burst of energy fueling your efforts in trying to get away. “You little shit, no, fine, fine!” And Seth wins just like that, as you concede the battle and roll from your stomach onto your back. You glare as he leans over your torso, bringing the towel down to clean up the mess in-between your thighs.

His confidence comes back, little by little, as the banter returns naturally and your dynamic doesn’t change despite indulging in your bodies’ most primal desires. “You’ll thank me in the morning.” He grins when he finishes, sliding off the bed to bring it back to the bathroom. You follow, doing your business so quickly you leave before he’s done with his own.

When he comes back you’re in the same position he left you in, like you never left. “So I’m staying the night, then?” You prompt as he goes to sit next to you, a little teasing, a little serious. Where do you stand with him now?

He shrugs, masking his nervousness. “If you want to.” He sinks his teeth into his lip, eyeing you from where he sits. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and it slightly unnerves him.

Your mysteriousness is also what captivated him about you in the first place too, though. With that, he realizes he wouldn’t have gotten this far if you hadn’t liked him at least a little bit. Taking a deep breath, he takes the bold route, grabs your hand, and does what he does best:

Be bold.

“I want you to stay though, like, really badly.” He admits, meeting your curious eyes. You suck in a breath at his words, and Seth continues. “You know I like you. A lot. And I think you like me too.”

As if knowing he’s waiting for your reassurance, you reply quietly. “A little presumptuous of you, yeah?”

Seth grins, and you can’t help but wonder how you were able to resist it for so long.

“So… You’ll stay?” He tilts his head, reminding you of a puppy. You go to respond, maybe with another sarcastic reply, and he seems to know this even before you do. “Please?”

And, well, you can’t deny him when he’s looking at you like that; soft, brown eyes full of adoration gazing at you like you’ve hung the stars and the moon. “Okay.” You relent, grinning happily as he mouths something like ‘fuck yeah’ and rolls over next to you.

“Do you want to shower?” He suddenly asks, after you’ve already curled underneath his sheets with your body pressed against his. He makes a nice furnace, and you’re mad at yourself for not indulging in him sooner. “Because I have a big one. It has these jets that spray from different angles, and you can go alone or I can join or—”

“Seth.” You interrupt, poking his chest to get his attention. He gulps at the amused expression on your face. “Stop talking.”

“Okay.”

It’s silent for several minutes, and you’re almost asleep until he speaks up again.

“Can I be your boyfriend now?”

“Oh my god.” You hiss. “If I say yes will you let me go to sleep?”

You can’t see his face but you know for a fact there’s a stupid grin on it. “You know, I think you’re gonna fall in love with me one day.”

“Keep dreaming, babe.” You say.

But you both know he won’t be dreaming for long.

A/N: I like this one a lot tbh. But my lord I didn't realize how repetitive writing smut is so I need to have at least a little plot established before I can just jump into it 😭 regardless, I hope this is everything y’all wanted in terms of me writing for him and more! Please be sure to reblog and comment, thank youuuuu

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queenimmadolla · 2 months

Text

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

previous — next part ┊ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( + playlist)

Summary: You learn the identity of your new undead friend, get a mini ‘makeover’, catch your crush’s attention and bury a body while Eddie learns throwing up on the girl he’s interested in probably doesn’t display his potential as a boyfriend, but his protective nature might.

Chapter Warnings: a stinky boy, dark humor, unpleasant home life, intense longing (on eddie’s behalf). oh yeah, and murder.

a/n: so i lied, this is actually longer than the first chapter and i accepted my fate. we’re getting to the fun stuff, though. next up: more vigilante justice, eddie lore and emerging feelings for a certain dead man walking. hope you like it!

light dividers ℗ cafekitsune ♡

“C’mon, over here.” You gestured to your open doorway, watching your new zombie pal hobble up the final step and round the staircase. His movements were harsh, stiff as hell and made your bones hurt to watch for whatever reason. Every over limp was accompanied by an inhuman grunt, and you wondered if moving his limbs might actually be painful for him.

You were never particularly skilled in the art of masking your emotions, so your eyebrows were furrowed, mouth parted and upper lip tucked up to clearly display your phantom discomfort.

Once he was close enough, you crossed over the threshold, standing a little in front of your bed as he wandered in, large eyes immediately raking over everything on your walls. After beckoning him further in, you moved around the filthy corpse standing in your room to close the door.

“Despite your deadly good looks, we can’t risk anyone seeing you. No one else can know you’re here.” You informed him, trying to stress the seriousness of the situation without seeming too controlling. While you had waited for The Zombie to struggle up the stairs, you’d determined there were three possible ways this town would react to discovering a member of the dead had risen—that only seemed to be socially acceptable and celebrated in the form of Jesus Christ:

1.) Pitchforks and Torches.

2.) News, Military, and Government attention, which would no doubt mean you’d have to break him out of some lab.

3.) Pitchforks and Torches, News, Military, and Government attention, which would mean you’d have to save him from an angry mob before inevitably losing him once News stations picked the story up, causing subsequent Military and Government interference and the scientific study of your undead friend in some high tech/high defense lab, leaving you to figure out how to break into and get him out of it.

Or, he could just not leave your bedroom. A beautiful alternative.

The Zombie didn’t even pay you any attention, stumbling forward—and banging his foot against the leg of your bed frame—to take a better look at your things. He was grunting and groaning, though this time it seemed to be a little different. It almost sounded like he was talking to himself. Or maybe to you.

Zombies in film seemed to be able to voice their demands for brains. Could he? Did he have the same urge or need to eat brains? How would you even feed a zombie?

“Can you talk?” You asked, leaning back against the door, eyes on him as he had to hop in place in order to turn his body to face you, “Like, speak? With words?”

He seemed to consider your question for a moment, eyes darting to the side.

“Uuuuuuunnnggghhh.”

“So, that’s a no. Do you…do you need brains? Because I’m not sure I can get you any of those—and if you think for one second that you’re gonna eat mine, you should know I fall under fight when it comes to fight or flight responses. I’m like an alley cat, I’ll fuck you up.”

The Zombie stumbled back, rocking from side to side. It took you a moment to realize he was trying to shake his head, no.

Interesting.

“No brains?”

Again, he rocked from side to side, “Uunggh-uunghh.”

“Oh. Okay.” Your defenses dropped immediately as you played with your hair, pulling gently at a section of it, “Well, what do you eat?”

He did the choppy shoulder raise he’d done in the livingroom earlier, “Unnhh unnhh.”

Your lips curled into a small, fascinated smile. Okay, you knew he had been once alive, once a human being existing on this earth with blood pulsing through his veins—and now he was dead.

Yet, he wasn’t dead. He was dead but standing in your bedroom, amongst your girly things and not so girly things, staring at you in his grotesque form, and shrugging I dunno, like some alive person. A full blown, supernatural one-time (to your knowledge) occurrence only depicted in Sci-fi films and horrors.

Why you? What did he want with you?

You hadn’t realized you’d voiced the question until he hobbled back around to your bedroom wall, raising his left hand, and the only one he seemed to have, up to one of the tombstone etchings. His fingers were all sorts of fucked up, frozen in the most uncomfortable looking positions as a result of rigor mortis in whatever position he’d died.

“What? That? It’s just an etching I made of a tombstone.”

He craned his head around, and you tried not to be freaked out with the way his neck hadn’t turned enough with it, tapping his crooked pinky finger against the craft paper and then moved it to his chest.

Your eyes zeroed in on the etching, trying to understand what he was attempting to tell you.

It was MUN’s tombstone—no, Eddie Munson’s tombstone.

Your jaw dropped. Had to be somewhere around your feet, on the floor. Holy. Shit.

“That’s you? You’re Eddie Munson?” It was rude, but you openly pointed at him.

He didn’t grunt in response this time, rather, he began to cough and gag as he jerked his body around to get his hand in his dirty jeans.

While he did whatever it was, you took the time to take him in even further. He wore black jeans, but under his leather jacket he seemed to be wearing a discolored dress shirt that had once probably been white. You had a feeling the sneakers on his feet, while horrendously dirty, weren’t all that worn out. Dress pants were pricey, you knew that much after buying some for your father when your mother would take you to outlets and malls with her. Dress shirts were a little cheaper and new shoes were seen as a staple in big events for peoples’ lives, such as graduations, birthdays, dances, weddings and funerals.

You had a sneaking suspicion this lively carcass hadn’t been from this part of town when he was alive.

“UUUUUUNNNNGGGHHHH!” The Zombie moaned out, almost victoriously as his stiff arm stuck straight up in the air. Dangling from his curled fingers, was your mother’s pearl necklace. You’d seen it last when you’d entrusted MUN with it yesterday.

You gasped, reaching out as he lowered it into your furled palm.

With the proof in your hand and his corpse before you, you knew you were speaking to Eddie Munson. He was, without a doubt, the grave you’d been running to.

“Holy crap, you are Eddie Munson!” You gripped the pearls in your fist, eyes wide and blinking rapidly to try to make sense of it all, “You were murdered and now you’re not—I mean, you were, but you’re back from the dead, standing in my—ooh, standing pretty close actually.”

You tried not to flinch as you became aware of just how close he’d stumbled over to you. Definitely within arms-length. He didn’t exactly stink, his flesh looked much too leathery to actually smell (you weren’t about to lean in and sniff to test the theory), but the scent of wet dirt was strong and the smell of whatever he’d spat on you earlier seemed to be lingering.

Zombie Eddie was in desperate need of a shower.

“So, this is all pretty cool and bizarre—I’m a fan of both—but uhm, why are you here…? Like, in my house.”

He slouched even further into your space, this time you did flinch a little as the most muffled whimper sounded from him. Reminded you of the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz when he couldn’t speak properly because he was all rusted up.

Eddie held eye contact as he struggled to grab hold of your hand and the minute he did, dirt from his skin pressing into yours, you knew what was coming.

Because of course it would. This is something that would only happen to you.

Shakily, Eddie tried lifting your hand and your mouth puckered, brows furrowing before you sucked your lips into your mouth as you watched him prepare to kiss your hand with his filthy, dead, dried out lips that still had bits of that green goop he’d spat up around it.

You were a nice person—a relatively decent human being, but you weren’t that nice and you didn’t wanna have to go to the hospital on the off chance that you caught something from a corpse. Explaining that one would send you straight to the psych ward and probably end in some sort of abuse of a corpse charge, so you quickly pulled your hand out of his grasp, rubbing your fingers together to roll some of the dirt off of them.

“Okay, okay, I see, mhm—alright. You’re here because—when I said I wished I was with you, I didn’t mean like, I wanted to have your dead body…y’know, pressed up against mine. I meant like…in the grave. Next to you. Like buried there because I’d be dead. It was a moment of intense angst—I’m nineteen and my life is in the fucking gutter. I’m surrounded by terrible people in this town and I have the rest of my life to live out this way.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on or something, and I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to do literally anything with a corpse, other than bury it.”

The two of you stood there, just staring at each other. He still hadn’t moved out of your space and you were still kind of leaning back, away from him, so you added, “So. Just a little recap, I wanted to be dead. Did not mean I wanted to be with you. Romantically. Together. Like a couple.”

And then you felt a little guilty because that wasn’t entirely true.

“Well, not with you as a cadaver.” Because you had fantasized about the person in the grave being a source of comfort to you, “Or—or, you in general. ‘Cause…’cause I didn’t know it was you given how fucked up your shit was, and I didn’t know you when you were alive.”

God, you were messing this up. Rather than continuing your ongoing word vomit, you flashed him a tight smile.

Finally, you got a reaction out of him. He creaked back, those little whimpering sounds coming from his lips before that same nasty ass green shit from before started leaking out from behind his eyeballs.

You’d made him cry.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—I just moved here a couple of months ago and you were already dead by then! I’m sure you were a lovely person and I would have liked y—y—yo—ECH!”

You gagged, hand flying up to cover your mouth and nose as you felt the contents of your stomach start to make its way back up. While your hand was in that position, it squeezed the tip of your nose, cutting of the assault currently taking place against it.

Whatever it was Zombie Eddie was secreting instead of his tears, stunk. It was the most putrid scent you’d ever had the misfortune of knowing. Nothing could compare to it, not literal shit, not vomit, not pasta that had been left out to cook in the sun for several weeks, nothing.

You were sure one more sniff of it, and your nostril hairs would either shrink and curl up, or disintegrate.

“MOTHER OF GOD—your tears smell horrendous—I’m gonna throw u—ECH!”

You gagged again, tears flooding your sight and you hurried over to the bathroom, gesturing for him to follow behind you.

Chrissy had left her door to the bathroom open, so you skidded across the tile to shove it closed, desperate to make sure the scent didn’t reach the room and wouldn’t linger in there.

She’d drive you straight to the ER to get checked out, because nothing you could possibly shit out should ever and would ever smell that bad.

You yanked the shower curtain back from the tub, setting Chrissy’s products to the side and out of the way, “You need to bathe like two years ago, my dead guy.”

You stepped to the side, pointing into the tub with a finger as your other hand rested on your hip like you were ordering a misbehaving child in.

Eddie groaned, and you got the feeling that he was unimpressed with your theatrics. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t been dramatic about it. His stank tears had to be an actual biohazard and you didn’t want to think about the fact that very same biohazard had been projectile vomited onto your face a couple of minutes ago. You were so gonna scrub it raw.

Begrudgingly, he hobbled over to your tub and struggled over the edge until he was in—his upper half slamming into the tile wall.

You didn’t say anything about him being fully clothed, shoes and all, because everything he wore needed a good rinse off. If not, you’d have to hose his clothes down in the yard before subjecting the dryer and washer to them.

“There’s my soap.” You pointed out the pink bottle of pomegranate and berry scented shower gel, “And my shampoo and conditioner—those two are very expensive and a little goes a long way, so don’t waste any.”

You eyed him for a moment, mouth twisting in consideration, “Nevermind, it’ll take half the bottles to get your hair clean, I’ll just have to replace them a little earlier than my budget expected.”

This time, Eddie’s mouth parted rather wide as he moaned out, “UHNNNGGHH.”

He was probably telling you to fuck off already, but you were distracted by whatever insect was currently in his mouth, on his tongue.

“SPIT IT OUT!” You shrieked, and he aimed his head down, the large thing with too many legs falling right out to crawl around on your bathroom floor.

You screamed as you began to stomp around, trying to crush it beneath your remaining slipper but it kept evading it! Finally, your foot flattened it with a satisfying crunch.

The evil had been defeated. You were nearly panting, shoulders rising and falling as you calmed your breathing and another sound registered.

Eddie was croaking now, it sounded almost like the most painful gasps someone would let out on their deathbed. You stared, puzzled for a moment before it dawned on you.

“Are you laughing at me?”

He did it again, stiff body leaning completely back on the shower tiles now.

“Oh my god, you are! YOU DICK!” You slapped the side of his arm and then quickly yanked it back, frowning at the mud now caked to the back of your fingers.

“Ugh,” you tried to shake some of it off over the tub, your head shaking as well—and despite the predicament, you found the corners of your lips twitching but you refused to smile. Wouldn’t let him get that over you, “You’re gross. That better be the last living creature to come out of you, you Zombie Headbanger, take a shower.”

You didn’t give him a chance to moan, groan or croak at you again, yanking the curtains back to shield the tub and it’s undead occupant.

You rolled your eyes, almost fondly, and gathered too much toilet paper to wipe up the remnants of the bug and toss it in the trash. Should’ve been in a different corpse’s mouth if it wanted to live.

“You know how to work a shower, don’t you?” You asked aloud as you approached your bathroom counter, taking notice of the bathroom mirror as you uncapped a room spray and gave your bathroom a good burst of it. The mirror had already been replaced, looked like Laura couldn’t stand to know there was something imperfect in the house—aside from you.

You heard the tub start to run before the shower stream took over. At least he still remembered that much.

“You wanna listen to some music?” You asked over the loud stream of the shower.

“Uunngh.”

You took that as a yes and leaned over the counter to tweak the knob of the radio you and Chrissy always left on it. Immediately, a country station started playing and you quickly switched the station.

“That’s not one of mine! Chrissy listens to Country whenever she misses her ex-boyfriend, I don’t know why.”

You kept twisting the dial through various stations. When you hit a station midway through Disposable Heroes, you turned the knob again only for your companion to voice his outrage.

“UUUUUUNNNGGHHHH!!!”

“What?” You switched the station back, “You like Metallica?”

He grunted from behind the shower curtain, and the scent of your body wash began to fill the bathroom, much to your relief. You could hear him banging around in there, probably not the easiest to wash up with a bad case of rigor mortis.

“They’re alright, I liked Ride the Lightning, but Master of Puppets is good, too. Their last album was good, too, but it felt kind of different. Not the same without Burton.”

Eddie made a sound of confusion, hand with the fucked up fingers reaching out to push the curtain back so he could poke his head out.

You met his gaze through the mirror, “You don’t know?”

He just blinked, almost owlishly.

Shit. He must have died before the fall of ‘86. You’d have to ask Chrissy when exactly Eddie had died.

“The bass player, Cliff Burton? He died in ‘86. Bus accident.”

You watched as Eddie’s gaze dropped, and the groan he let out sounded remarkably sad as he ducked back behind the curtain.

Unsure of what to say to make him feel better, you let the radio play out the rest of the duration of Eddie’s shower and took diligent care in washing your face and brushing your teeth. Once he was done, smelling amazing and just like you, you’d had him shed his clothes for one of your nightgowns and dragged him back to your closet.

You knew he was quite literally stiff, but he seemed extra unenthused with his choice of ensemble, so you were going to let him choose his own.

“Alright, take your pick.” You yanked the doors of your walk-in closet (as in you could take three steps in and that's it) open and he flinched back at the amount of pink seeping out of it. When he made no move to look through his options, you selected one for him.

An even gaudier nightgown you tried to shove in his arms. And he let you, before purposely dropping it to the ground while holding eye contact.

“Well, I thought you would have looked great in it.” You mumbled as he creaked down to pick it up for you. When Eddie hobbled into the closet to hang it up, you shut the doors behind him, “Pick something else and then you can come out!”

Your closet doors didn’t lock though, so you were just banking on him assuming they did and you heard his offended zombie groaning. While you waited, listening to him no doubt bang into the walls as he struggled to dress himself, grunting and groaning, you twirled around on your desk chair.

Eventually, the closet doors parted and you gasped at the sight of him, standing there in your lavender fluffy, oversized sweater and pair of white pajama pants with hearts all over them. He couldn’t really move his face all that much, not very expressive and yet you could somehow tell he was scowling.

“You look like Grimace.” Was all you said, mind conjuring up Ronald McDonald’s purple monster friend.

The closet doors were promptly slammed shut. When he emerged once more, gone was the former ensemble. Eddie was wearing a neon green skirt, a tight off the shoulder black top, and nothing else.

You wolf whistled at his skinny, severely discolored legs.

He stuck one out, modeling it for you and you realized he was humoring you. You laughed, eyes crinkling.

“You tryna knock me dead, too?”

When he nodded, you laughed again and stood up to rummage through your dresser. You found a band tee you used as a pajama top, and some black pants that looked like they might fit him. Then you spotted a red plaid flannel you had hanging on your bedroom door, waiting to be placed in the closet.

The clothing items were shoved into his arms and you pushed him back into the closet.

When he came out (eheheheh) again, you were practically bouncing in your seat. You’d never seen Eddie alive before, had never seen him in clothes that weren’t his burial ones, and he definitely still looked as much of a Zombie as Michael Jackson had looked in the Thriller music video, but he also looked like a young adult, and very much so in his Metal element. He was stretching your baby blue socks to their limit, but they’d have to do until you could steal some from your dad. You’d scrub his shoes tomorrow, before class.

If Eddie were alive, he’d look…hot.

You smiled to yourself, still taking him in as you realized you were looking at Eddie Munson.

To show your admiration, you clapped for him, “That’ll do real well. What do you think?”

Eddie raised his forearm and you tilted your head, confused. He followed your gaze and groaned, rolling his eyes as he realized that was the arm lacking a hand. Then, he held up his other arm, painful looking thumb finger cracking and popping until he was giving you a thumbs up. You ended up tying a scarf around the wrist without a hand, just to hide the gaping wound.

With the matter of his clothing solved, you moved onto his hair, sitting on the bathroom counter while he stood in front of you as you worked on detangling with a spray bottle and a legion of hair products. It took some TLC, and ignoring the hole where his ear should’ve been, but you brought his curls back to life. You were shocked to even see he had bangs, they’d been plastered to the top of his head when he was the Swamp Thing.

They framed his eyes, looked real good on him and he seemed to enjoy the entire process, eyes slipping shut and little moans (not like that) coming from him.

“Well, I think we’ve got you back in good shape.” You put down the comb, placing your hand on his shoulders to turn him towards the mirror, “Is this Eddie Munson?”

You watched his gaze scan his reflection, before those eyes were on yours in the mirror.

“Unnnghhh.” Eddie held up his arm with the missing appendage and you nervously scratched the back of your heard.

“Well, you see, I don’t really have any extra hands on me, at the moment. Just down to these two,” You emphasized the sentence with some jazz hands to display yours, then immediately felt guilty over still having yours so you hid them behind your back.

Eddie groaned low, lifting his wrist to the side of his head, where his ear should have been and you made a displeased sound.

“Oh. Noticed that, did you?”

His eyes narrowed and even though you had no idea what Eddie had sounded like, you could still hear him in your head, Notice my fucking ear is missing? Yeah, I did.

“I don’t have any extras of those, either. If it’s a body part, I’m out of stock. But—who cares? Plenty of people live without them.”

Eddie grunted, eyes narrowing even further at you.

You winced, “Poor choice of words—the point is, no one will even notice. Because no one is going to see you.”

Eddie’s next grunt sounded disappointed and you felt even guiltier. What were you supposed to do? You’d already made him look as relatively normal as you could, there was only so many ways you could disguise a zombie who walked oddly, communicated via moan, groan and grunt, and looked like he had a medical skin condition.

You were about to try to comfort him when you heard the front door open and you gasped.

“WHAT IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN?” You heard Laura cry out, and your dad shouted your name.

“I don’t mean to sound homophobic, but back in the closet!” You shoved him out of the bathroom and in the direction of his new hiding place. He hadn’t looked very keen as you shut the closet doors on him, but he’d have to wait for now.

Your dad was probably having one hell of a heart attack, staring at the mess of the house, the broken window, fearful a similar situation as your mother’s assault had taken place with you as the victim.

“I’m alright, daddy!” You reassured as you raced down the stairs to your concerned father. He was concerned alright, but not about you.

He had Laura in one arm, who was openly distraught about the shards of her damn plates, and Chrissy, who was staring at the mess with open confusion, in the other.

“You,” Laura spat at you with venom the moment her chilling gaze locked onto your approaching figure, “What. Did. You. Do?”

Wow. You’d seen an actual Zombie—he was upstairs, in your bedroom closet—and still the most unbelievable thing to happen to you was your ‘family’’s ability to immediately blame you. You hadn’t expected Eddie’s corpse to be the first suspect in their head, still, they’d seen your house ransacked—as you tried to escape your friendly deceased headbanger—with you nowhere in sight, and hadn’t been at all concerned for your wellbeing. God, they sucked.

“Me?! I didn’t do this!”

“Then who did!?” Laura screeched back and you found yourself getting angry.

“The guy who broke in!” You shouted back and Laura immediately rolled her eyes. You could hear your dad say both of your names to calm you down, but you were growing tired of him, too. Like Eddie, he seemed to be missing parts of his body. Noticeably, his goddamn spine.

“Really? You expect us to believe that after last night? The smashing of the mirror, my precious moments figurines? Muffin, your daughter is out of control. She destroyed my house!”

“Do you ever use those creepy eyeballs stuck in your skull?” You found yourself blurting out, “Does it look like any part of my body came crashing through that window?!” You pointed aggressively in the direction of the livingroom, where glass littered the floor. It was too much for just an object to have been thrown through and your body had no cuts, nothing to show from possibly jumping through it.

“Mom, if sissy was attacked─” Chrissy tried, her her mother was having none of it.

“Attacked? Who would want to attack her? She’s invisible, taking up space!” Laura was practically hysterical as she gathered pieces of her broken dishes, “That’s why she’s acting out, can’t you see? She’s recreating the crime scene that got her so much attention and you’re all falling for it!”

The woman was crying, mascara smearing around her eyes as her angry glare was once more directed to you, and you found yourself shrinking and hurt at the accusations, “You need serious help. You’re crazy and a danger to us all!”

“I think you might be mistaking me for your psyche.” You mumbled before turning your attention to your father with pleading eyes, “Daddy, there was a home invasion! I tried to call the police, but as soon as I heard him, I ran up to hide in my room.”

“She needs help, institutional treatment.” Laura hissed into your father’s ear as as though she was the devil on his shoulder.

“Daddy…”

“Mom, sissy’s not a nut, we can’t send her to the looney bin!”

You wanted to scream. All this talk about you being insane, and there was a literal walking corpse upstairs who could disprove that. You just weren’t willing to sacrifice Eddie for yourself.

“Dad, I’m not crazy. Okay? Last night was just a mirror, and tonight someone broke in. There’s a huge difference between the two, I’m not crazy.” You tried to reason, desperate to not get shipped off to some mental ward.

Your dad appeared sympathetic, “No one is calling you crazy, sweetheart.”

”I did.” Laura guffawed at your father siding with you.

“She did, I heard her.” Chrissy confirmed, frowning at her mother.

“No, Chris. Your mother’s just upset, she’d never say something like that and mean it.” You watched with disgust as he pulled Laura into his arms. It was more than you could stomach so you stormed out of the dining room, making a retreat for your room.

You were on your own. Your father had just proved that. Laura could say anything to you, treat you like crap, starve you and he wouldn’t ever step in, just continue being his wishy washy self. If it had been him and not your mother that night, you wouldn’t be suffering like this.

You’d have a loving parent.

You quietly shut your bedroom door once you made it in, leaning your forehead against it as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye. Emotions were something you tried to embrace, but crying because of your family felt…wrong. Like something you shouldn’t have to do.

Wiping your face, you realized more tears would be coming. Tonight was meant for crying. So, you slipped into bed, tears leaking steadily down your temples to seep into your hair and pillows. You were so hurt and you wanted to sob, but you were conscious of the dead guy in your closet. What if he heard you?

With a stuttering breath, you peered over at the closet to see the doors barely open and Eddie peaking out at you.

You rolled onto your side, back facing him to hide your tear stained face and weakness as you thought about how loud you and Laura had been downstairs. He’d probably heard what she said about you.

It was one thing to be treated the way you were, it felt extra pathetic to have someone bear witness to it.

The closet doors closed quietly behind you and just as you did every night, you squeezed your eyes shut, willing sleep to come so you could be done with the day and move onto the next, just solemnly trying to make it through life.

Maybe you and Eddie had more in common than you originally thought. Maybe you were a zombie, too.

When your alarm blared from your nightstand, rousing you from sleep—the only peace you ever seemed to get—you stumbled out of bed almost blindly, eyes heavily lidded with exhaustion as you yanked your closet doors open.

A garment was immediately thrown over your head, covering your face and you remembered your current house guest.

With a sigh, you yanked the clothing off your head, balled it up and threw it back at Eddie, “Dude, I have to get dressed. I have class today.”

Eddie grumbled, un-balling the little black dress and holding it up for you. It was the dress Chrissy had bought on sale and then given to you when she came to the conclusion that black washed her out and she looked much better in pastels.

“I’m not wearing that, not so much my style.” You tried to push past Eddie, but he remained planted where he stood, grunting as he held the dress out to you once more.

“Do I look like Madonna to you?” You asked, pushing the dress back towards him. Eddie groaned and threw the dress at your face again, closing the closet doors while you yanked it off your head, again.

“We’re gonna have to have a conversation about your communication skills later.” You called through the door and fiddled with the dress, “Can I get a sweater or something to go along with this?”

The closet doors were quickly opened and a new article of clothing was flung over your head before they closed. You’d just pulled the sweater off of your head when the doors opened once more and a hat was tossed at you.

“Dang—anything else?”

“Uuunggh.” Eddie moaned through the door, and you tried to pull at them but he must have been holding them shut from the otherside.

Resigned to your fate, you swapped out your pajamas for the outfit Eddie had apparently selected for you. He would navigate to the black clothing. You were unsure of it until you saw yourself in the mirror. Normally, your clothes weren't all that revealing. Form fitting—maybe, but never as attention drawing as this. You just figured you weren’t the type that could pull it off.

You were wrong.

The dress hugged your figure in the most complimentary way. It was short, stopped mid-thigh, but it didn’t look awkward or make you feel like your vagina would be on display if you bent over, thanks to the lace of the bottom hem flaring out.

For once, the girl in the mirror looked stunning. And when you did your makeup, taking your time to smoke a dark blue shadow out along your lash line and eyelids, she looked drop dead gorgeous.

You’d walked onto Campus with your head high, body rocking and a new found confidence that hadn’t quite made it’s way to the surface before. The heads turning in your direction were new and you found you kind of liked it, their gazes weren’t uninterested, scowls or looks of annoyance. They were appreciative, even from the straight girls!

“Okay, am I seeing things or does your sister look drop dead gorgeous?” Tina asked, as Chrissy and her friends stood admiring you from the bench they were occupying.

“You’ve got perfect 20/20 vision. She’d be unstoppable if she kept the confidence. Could probably even win pageants. Do you think she’d join cheer?”

Eddie fiddled with one of your shoes, tugging on a shoestring in boredom. He was sat on the floor of your closet, light from your bedroom windows creeping in through the cracks of the doors.

You’d lectured him before you left for class, told him he had to stay put. Laura wouldn’t be leaving for her nurses’ conference until the afternoon, so she’d be lingering in the house and she’d have a cow if she stumbled upon him.

So you’d pointed and lectured until he was creaking and groaning his compliance.

He’d stayed in the closet while you got dressed and, after you’d made sure Chrissy had already left, watched you do your makeup in the mirror while you chatted about the classes you had to take for the day.

Eddie had listened, to the best of his ability with one ear, and stared at your reflection as the heavy sense of longing settled on his chest, crushing the heart that no longer beat but desperately wished to. For you.

Death was not like he’d ever expected. No heaven, no hell. He was just…dead. Maybe it’d been the way he died. Perhaps, the suddenness of it, his lack of peace in life while living, or the fact that he was murdered, was the reason he saw neither heaven nor hell. He’d just been in a dark place. Literally, no source of light, no out of body experience, just darkness. For a while, it was tolerable, he’d heard Wayne’s voice comforting him. Telling him how much he loved him, how much he missed him. Then, nothing.

Nothing for so long. Quiet. Silence, not at all a peaceful kind. He no longer existed in life and yet the silence was still somehow smothering.

Until one day, he wasn’t alone anymore.

You found him.

Talked to him all the time, laid with him, kept him company and said such wonderful things. Eddie had no idea how much he’d appreciate hearing about current news events as a dead guy.

And while you kept him from feeling lonely, there was always a sadness to your presence. Broke his heart when you told him out of place you felt because he just wanted to claw his way out of his grave and tell you that no, you weren’t odd, you weren’t weird, you weren’t out of place. You were unique. You were the type of person he would have admired if he had been alive, different but not desperate to fit in. Just longed to be accepted.

He understood the sentiment all too well.

Eddie understood you. And you had no idea who he was, had voiced as much to him, couldn’t come up with his identity because some fuckers had defaced his tombstone—of course they would—and yet, you knew exactly who Eddie was. Knew him to his very core.

When you visited him, Eddie felt warm. He had no idea he could even feel things, other than the constant loneliness that had plagued him after Wayne’s presence disappeared, and before you.

With you, it felt like you were right there with him, beside him. A warmth, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for some much needed comforting. How ironic that he finally found someone who could finally see him, and he couldn’t do anything about it because he was dead.

And when you had come to Eddie that fateful night, the sadness he always noticed about you was heavier. A new despair attached, one that had him desperate to get to you, comfort you as you’d done for him.

I wish I was with you.

You’d said it. Had said what Eddie had wanted to hear you say for so long, even before he was dead. Before he knew you. It had always been you he was waiting for. He was beginning to understand the universe was bigger than anything he could have imagined (and yeah, maybe universal studios was the first thing that came to mind when he was alive), was positive the heartache he went through was necessary if it led him to you. Eddie could have done without the murder—there was no undoing that. Except, there kind of was. And it happened with a strike of lightning.

Unlike the many times he wanted to before, he’d actually been able to open his eyes, break out of his coffin and dig his way out of his own grave.

Eddie had had a major breakdown, freaking out at just about everything regarding returning from the dead after he’d broken through that final layer of thick terrain, minutely softened by some light rain from the storm. He had first tried to go home, only to find himself face to face with an unfamiliar mobile home set up on Wayne’s lot. A peek into the window revealed a couple.

No sign of his uncle.

It filled him with a sense of panic and he’d needed something—someone to stabilize him, keep him grounded.

Eddie was sure he was tied to you. Not only because of the unique bond you shared, he also felt a pull to you. Just some intense instinct.

He knew where to go after.

Your welcome hadn’t exactly been as warm as the grave hangouts—he didn’t blame you, his vocal chords were useless to him for the time being, meaning he couldn’t explain himself as you shrieked and flung dishes at him (and he was impressed) and fled from him. He could make sounds, so Eddie suspected he had the ability to talk, just lacked the healthy cords due to years of non-use to them, what with him being dead and all.

Eddie’s case was definitely not helped when he’d broken your fall—he was freaking the fuck out about you dangling from the roof like that—and you’d pressed on him stomache when you landed on him.

He hadn’t meant to…y’know…spit all that up on you, it just happened and he immediately wanted to die right after, just roll right back into his grave, he was so fucking embarrassed.

Projectile vomited on the girl you’re tryna romance, Munson. Nice.

Then, you hadn’t been attacking him, tugging him along to your room instead where you immediately told him you were just using dark humor to cope and didn’t actually want to be with him.

Probably something you should have clarified for him before he returned from the dead to be with you, but whatever. He wasn’t mad about it. Just a little bit heartbroken. Definitely didn’t stink up your closet with a little cry sesh while you were at college. Totally didn’t smell like Cherry Bubbles (how is that a scent?) from the bathroom spray he’d had to limp out to grab in an effort to hide the scent of his rotting body tears.

Now, he was just confused. Had no idea what the hell to do. Thinking on it, it had obviously been stupid as fuck to think you’d want him when he was literally a dead body. Couldn’t exactly stroll down the street, holding his one hand without garnering a few odd looks and arrests.

So, what could he do now? Sit in the closet and think about everything. Try to remember everything about his last moments alive—and when it had him wheezing in the closet, cowering in the dark, he’d switched to thinking about his uncle. Concerned. Wondering what had happened to him. When that subject, too, began to promise a panic attack—he switched to thinking about you, and oh how he ached in a different way. You were right there, in reach for him and yet the two of you couldn’t be.

The most frustrating part is how good the two of you could be for each other, and Eddie literally couldn’t talk you into giving it a chance, couldn’t even flirt with you.

He had some mad rizz when given the opportunity, a body that wasn’t stiff as hell and a fucking voice. Eddie knew he’d be able to get you all shy and cute, similar to how you were when you talked about what you thought he was like back at the cemetery.

FUCK. What the hell? Life wasn’t fair to him, death wasn’t fair to him, now life as some zombie wasn’t gonna be fair to him?

What kind of fucked up existance was this?!

All because of some stupid fucking lightning that—

Lightning. Eddie perked up, theories racing through him. If it had brought him back from the dead, maybe it could do more. Before he could think on it further, he heard your door open and froze.

It was too soon for you to be home. You said you’d be back in the afternoon, after Laura had left.

Eddie heard a scoff.

“How has it gotten even worse in here?” Laura mumbled to herself.

Eddie scowled, as he heard her footsteps enter your room, could hear her padding around.

The fuck was she doing in here?

It was a risk, Eddie pushed the closet door open, just enough to give him a crack to peep through.

Your stepmom was in some sort of jazzercise outfit—ugh, of course she did jazzercise. The blonde woman was currently rummaging through your drawers, looking amongst your belongings.

She was invading your privacy.

If Eddie had blood flowing through his veins, it would have been boiling.

He’d heard what she said last night, how she berated you. Accusing you of using your mother’s murder to seek attention.

And the other members of your family weren’t speaking up nearly enough to defend you. He was surprised that Chrissy—small town for Cunningham to be the Chrissy you’d been telling him about—even tried to defend you but she should have been putting her mother in her place. She hadn’t come up to check on you, either.

Eddie had a few things he wished he could say to Laura Cunningham, tell her exactly where she could shove her stupid figurines and verbal abuse.

If she was searching for something, Laura didn’t find it. She slammed one of your drawers shut, eyed your sketches pinned to your wall with disgust before speed walking out of your room. When she passed the closet, Eddie took notice of the headphones over her ears, could hear whatever she was listening to, Walkman probably set to the loudest volume.

Eddie’s mouth chipped up into a smirk that kind of hurt his face. He opened the closet door fully, stumbling out to poked his head out of your bedroom doorway just in time to see your stepmom disappear down the stairs.

Eddie followed, steps loud and uneven. Laura didn’t notice his presence, too engrossed in whatever she was listening to and occupied with her own ego. Looked to be cleaning up the place before her little trip.

Laura disappeared into the kitchen, well out of view of the living room so Eddie stumbled in, eyeing the pristine setting. The place looked impeccable, spotless, antiques everywhere that Eddie just knew the old bat was dying to have people ask about so she could name drop and be as haughty as possible.

Eddie could wreck all of this in no time, and he would if he didn’t know she’d immediately blame you for it. He still felt guilty you’d been chewed out for the mess he made.

Bitch.

Eddie heard her returning, so he hid behind the wall, waiting a few moments before he peered around it and across the foyer, into the dinning room where she was seated after having fixed herself something. Laura still had the headphones on, so Eddie took that as the all clear to continue exploring.

He spotted a family portrait hung over the fireplace, a seemingly picture perfect family was displayed. A man he assumed to be your father loomed over Laura and Chrissy, one hand on each of their shoulders. Eddie barely glanced at them before you pulled all of his attention. You were stunning, light catching the highlights of your face, lips parted just enough to encourage a pout. Your hair was wild in comparison to the other women in the portrait—Eddie loved it. You looked like you belonged on an album cover for some rock band, even with the sorrow swirling around in your eyes. Your unwavering melancholic stare pinned Eddie, and he could feel himself getting protective over you again. You must have been miserable that day.

See, if he had been around, he could have easily cheered you up. Snuck over on the day in question. Laura would have hated his fucking guts—Eddie wouldn’t have minded being the boyfriend your stepmom didn’t approve of. Horsing around behind the little photo shoot set up to get you smiling, get those pretty eyes of yours twinkling before whisking you the hell out of there once they got the money shot.

He rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself as he turned away from the past that never was. Couldn’t have (he’d already been dead), should have (but couldn’t) and would have. In a heartbeat.

His posture worsened under the weight of his own despair, sulking with it until he spotted an acoustic guitar, tucked in the corner and resting on a stand.

“Mm?” Eddie tilted his head in curiosity before making his way over. It was difficult to do, but he managed to settle the neck of it in the crook of the arm lacking a hand, and strummed with his stiff fingers, pleased to find that it was already tuned.

He plucked a couple more chords, stopping once to adjust a peg. Then the doorbell rang and Eddie’s eyes widened. He fumbled to place the guitar back on its stand and plaster himself against the wall as Laura got up to answer it, having apparently been able to hear it ring but not his guitar playing.

“Yes?” Laura asked as she opened the door, impatience soaking through her tone.

“Carpet cleaning.” A man’s voice stated, sounding bored beyond measure.

“Carpet Cleaning? My carpet is so clean you can lick the fibers.” God, was your stepmom ever not insufferable? The carpet cleaner salesman seemed to be thinking the same thing and Eddie figured he had to be annoyed with his work day already to say what he did next.

“I doubt the one downstairs is.” The salesman snorted and Eddie would have snickered if he could as he heard Laura let out an affronted and embarrassed gasp.

“EXCUSE ME?!”

The guy must have turned tail because Laura was stepping out after him, yelling as she closed the front door behind her.

Eddie eyed the bowl she’d been eating from, curiosity getting the better of him as he stumbled over to inspect it. Spaghetti.

He shouldn’t….But what was the point of being a dead corpse if he couldn’t use dead guy powers for good?

It only took a little effort, Eddie successfully gagged and heaved until a warm that had been lurking in his stomach came out, dropping out of his mouth to wiggle around in Laura’s lunch. Eddie watched as it disappeared between the noodles and sauce, satisfaction filling him.

Served the hag right.

With justice served, Eddie made his way back upstairs to your room. He’d just made it to your doorway when he heard Laura return. He waited a few more moments for her to sit down, settle herself, twirl some spaghetti around her fork and put it in her mouth.

Eddie was beginning to think the worm had made its way to the very bottom of the bowl when Laura let out a high pitched scream.

That one was for you.

Eddie smirked and walked back into your room, quietly closing the door behind him.

You had two classes for the day, back to back so as to not have to stay on campus longer than necessary, and both classes were pleasant. There hadn’t been any change in the materials covered or anything, eyes just kept attempting to discreetly take you in, which you caught from your peripheral vision.

While you enjoyed the new attention your attire and the way you carried yourself brought you, you quickly realized it wasn’t something you needed. What you needed was to feel good about yourself and for once in your life, you did.

You were absolutely giddy, and you felt so badass somehow, was this what Chrissy and her friends felt like all the time? Maybe putting effort into your appearance wasn’t just a load of crap dispelled onto ugly people by the conventionally attractive.

Regardless, you were strutting your way to the library, eager to turn in some books, make Steve Harrington’s jaw drop, then run back home to Eddie so you could thank him profusely for not having fugly taste.

Once you made it to the library, you noticed no one was at the front desk. Steve must have been putting some books back on their shelves.

No problem, more time to prepare yourself, maybe run through some possible conversations so you wouldn’t go stupid at the sight of his gorgeous face.

Your bag hit the ground with a thud, thanks to the weight of the hardcovers within it and you bent down at the waist to rummage through it, placing one heavy hardcover book, two heavy hardcover books, three heavy hardco—

“You got the rest of the library in there, Mary Poppins?”

You snapped back up, whipping around just in time to see Steve’s gaze rise from where your ass had been unknowingly on display, to meet your eyes, his honey brown ones swirling with warmth.

Oh, god. Just play it cool.

“Just some tampons and some chips.”

Leave. Walk out. Save face.

“No chocolate for that time of the month?” He asked, leaning up against the desk, rather than going around it to handle your returns. Steve wanted to talk to you. He’d been eyeing your ass and now he was making small talk.

You were going for it.

“Craving a different kind of sweet thing right now.” You leaned in, just as he had at the tailor’s yesterday. You were laying it on thick, sure. It worked though. Steve leaned in, too, and you clocked the tick of his eyebrow. Interest. Holy shit—things were finally looking up for you.

“I’ve got some starbursts in my car,” Chrissy chirped, materializing out of thin air to stand in front of you and Steve.

You almost knocked down the books you’d stacked on the desk, cursing under your breath. “Geez, Chrissy.”

“Hi.” She grinned at you, her darling crooked teeth gleaming before she was fixing Steve with a stern look, “Sorry, I need to talk to my sister. Preferably, alone.”

“I’m not exactly gonna run to the gossip columns about anything.” He mused, exchanging an amused look with you but you couldn’t really hear anything going on around you because Steve Harrington was flashing you smiles around Chrissy, your pretty and practically perfect step-sister, and not her. You’d entered another dimension and you did not want to leave. All you could do was smile back at him, like some infatuated idiot while your fingers reached up to pick at your lower lip.

“That may be so, but I think it’s best if she hangs around a good crowd.” Somehow, Chrissy had wedged herself between you and Steve, standing protectively in front of you with her arms crossed. She was about as intimidating as a pomeranian. Still, it was endearing to have someone act like they cared about you.

“And the library is just full of Neanderthals, is that what you’re implying?” Steve leaned both elbows back on the desk, gesturing out to the few students—most meek in appearance—occupying the area.

“I was thinking more of creepy librarians, high school peakers, and former playboys.” Chrissy shot back and you nudged her, hissing out her name. The protective thing was nice, just not when she was trying to scare away the man you’d be making your boyfriend.

“Golden coming from you, of all people, your royal highness, the Queen of Hawkins High; former head cheerleader and Miss Hawkins of ‘87, but not ‘88 and I’m pretty sure Heather Holloway won again this year, so looks like we both don’t have a lot going on, do we?” Steve was smug, shooting you a wink that made your heart melt and drip down your sternum.

Steam was practically blowing out of Chrissy’s ears, “Shoo fly, don’t bother us.”

Steve rolled his eyes before they fixed on you, past Chrissy’s head, “I’ll see you later okay? Thanks for bringing your books back on time.”

You giggled, still staring at him as Chrissy began to tug you away, “Until the next time, I guess?”

Steve held your stare, smirk softening into a smile, “I’ll be waiting.”

It was easy for Chrissy to guide you out after that. You were floating. Light as a feather and high on life.

“You are the only girl I know who can survive a spiked drink and still want to have anything to do with the guy.” Chrissy sighed in exasperation as the two of you loitered by the drinking fountain, “There’s like at least four other guys here who would date you, sissy! Don’t waste your time on that one.”

Okay. Only four other guys? Ouch. “Steve didn’t spike it. Carol did.”

“And she’s always following him around like some sad little mutt. Better to just stay away.”

You scowled, mood souring. One afternoon. You couldn’t have just one afternoon where you felt good about yourself without someone bringing you down. You knew Chrissy meant well, but in that moment, she was pissing you off.

She seemed to pick up on the shift of your attitude, changing the subject, “After practice, I’m gonna go out tonight. Some of the girls want to go bowling and then have a little kick back. Cover for me?”

How very much like Chrissy to insult you in the name of protectiveness, and then ask you for a favor. She still cared more about you than your own flesh and blood, so, “I thought your mom was gonna be away for a few days in Akron.”

“She is, but daddy’s not. And he’s way too overprotective, I can’t even sneeze without him bursting into my room to ask me what’s wrong. He always wants to know where I’m going, argues with me when I try to go out late—it’s so annoying.”

All you could think about were the many times you’d said goodbye to him as you left the house at whatever hour you wanted while he mumbled a bye and read whatever magazine he was reading or watched TV.

You tried to consider it a good thing that he let you be so independent, yet something in you ached, sure he simply didn't care enough for you. Not like he did Chrissy, and he’d known you longer, all your life.

“Oh. Uhm, I think he works late today, anyway. I’ll cover if he asks, but I’m sure you’re good.”

Chrissy perked up, pulling you into a tight hug, “You are the best! I knew I was gonna love having you as a sister. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Chrissy didn’t wait for your reply, practically bouncing down the hallway and you sighed.

At least you’d have some peace and quiet, maybe you could get Eddie into better shape too, and you’d get to tell him about your day!

With your classes done, you made your way to the parking lot, where Mystery waited for you.

You slid the back door of the Volkswagen open, tossing your bag in before sliding the door shut and climbing into the driver's seat of the bus. Then you started your mantras and manifestations, gripping the key with a sweaty palm before you were sticking it into the ignition and turning it with bated breath.

She roared to life and you sagged back in your seat, bones like jelly knowing you piece of crap bus was still kicking.

It was the biggest lemon of a car you’d ever seen, carried around jugs of coolant in the back because it had to be refilled almost every time you started it.

But it was yours.

When you pulled up to the house to see Laura’s car was gone, you felt yet another weight lifted off your shoulders. You were completely free to be you. Snatching your bag from the back, you made a run for your house, quickly unlocking the door before stampeding up the stairs.

You burst into your bedroom, chest heaving to find it in normal condition and no Eddie around. Frowning, you tossed your bag on the floor, beside your bed, and made your way over to the closet, yanking the doors open.

Eddie peered up at you from his position on the floor, rocking an old feather boa of yours.

“Eddie, I told you you were free to roam once Laura left. You don’t have to stay cramped in there all day when no one is around.” You offered him a hand and helped hoist him when you took it, “You wouldn’t believe the day I had—you’ve got stellar taste, by the way.”

“Uuungh?”

You reached under your bed, snatching an old Easter basket out that you used to hide your snacks. After you settled on the bed, you patted the spot next to you, and Eddie hobbled his way over, grunting as he settled onto the cushy comforter.

“I know I was grumpy this morning. I’m sorry, you were right. The dress was a hit!” You exclaimed, ripping a bag of sour gummy worms open. The pink end was clenched between your teeth as you bit it off, bag of sweet and sour treats held out to Eddie as an offering.

Eddie reached into the bag, attempting to crook his fingers enough to hook one. You watched the leathery skin between his brows pull—if you had blinked, you would have missed it—as he struggled to free his hand from the bag, shaking it a little until you pinched the bottom firmly, allowing him to pull it out.

“Unngh.” He grunted in thanks.

As Eddie moved onto the challenge of getting the gummy worm to his mouth, you went back to telling him about your day, “I mean, god—all I did was put on a little dress and I felt kind of invincible. Not to mention Steve Harrington seemed to like it.”

Eddie froze, gummy worm hanging out of his mouth, “Mm?”

“Steve Harrington, did’ ya know him?” You asked, steamrolling right on as if you hadn’t, “Talk about winning the genetic pool—that man is so fine. We talked a little at that party I told you about, and before I did drugs, he was being so nice to me. And I didn’t look as hot as I do now, so I was hoping for a reaction out of him—BOY did I get it.”

You let out a dreamy sigh, recalling the way Steve had leaned into your straightforward flirting.

“He’s kind, funny, and sometimes he even has good book recommendations. He’s like the total package and I think he might actually like me.”

You paused your ranting to look over at Eddie. If you didn’t already know his face was stuck like that, you would have thought he was scowling.

“You got a little…” Reaching a hand up to cup his jaw, your thumb lifted the gummy worm hanging out of his mouth the rest of the way up. Eddie’s cracked lips parted, just enough for you to press the rest of it in, then he chewed slowly, face not even twitching to clue you in on his emotions.

“There.” Your hand dropped back into your lap as you perked up, “I wanna assume he’s better than the other horndogs who popped woodies just because I wore a dress and flashed some leg.”

You stuck out your leg to demonstrate, the dress slipping even further up your thigh as you held it out, smooth (mostly, she was a little prickly but no one would notice unless they were stroking it) skin on display under some fishnet stockings.

Eddie let out a pained sounding groan, which you figured meant he was agreeing with you about the rest of the male population.

“Yeah. Well, I think everything’s gonna work out perfectly. Even if Chrissy keeps butting into my love life like some fairy chastity-mother. God—I just, I’ve never been close to actually having something I wanted before, you know?”

Eddie whined from behind closed lips, holding up the wrist that lacked his hand.

“What?” You asked, glancing down at the scarf wrapped around it. Eddie reached up with his fucked up fingers to point at where his ear should have been and it clicked for you, “Eddie, I can’t pull an extra hand and ear outta my ass. I wish I could, but I don’t have spare human parts lying around like pieces of a vacuum.”

Eddie whined again and this time you could actually see his lips pulling down, frowning.

“I told you I wish I could, but I can’t! I don't know how to get people parts and I don’t exactly have the black market on speed dial. Besides—you’re fine like this, I mean what are you able to do as walking dead guy anyways?”

“MUUUUNGGGHHHH!” Eddie groaned, loud and obviously upset as he dramatically flung himself back on the bed hard enough to shake it.

“Hey!” You snapped, fearful for your bed frame, “Chill out dude—don’t act all coked out!”

He turned his head, face miserable but before you could continue your scolding, you heard your name called upstairs.

Laura.

“SHIT, hide!” Eddie stumbled up and barely even had the chance to turn around before you shoved him into your closet, shutting the doors.

You’d barely stepped away when Laura burst into your room. She was dressed in her nurse uniform, complete with the stupid hat, yet there was something off with her. Her skin had a grayish tint to it, she looked clammy, eyes and nostrils red with irritation and her mascara was running. Laura Cunningham looked just as terrible on the outside as she was inside.

And for once, she scared you.

“Laura! I thought you were headed out of town for your trip.” Laura’s stare was even colder than you’d ever seen it, unnaturally icy blue eyes both vacant and filled with a deranged sort of rage. You expected her pupils to turn into slits any second, it would be the last physical trait she’d need to resemble a demon.

Stepmother from hell, indeed.

“Mmm, I’m sure you were looking forward to that,” Her voice was soft, almost gentle and nothing about it was kind. It was as if to coax you forward to her, lull you into a sense of ease before striking. You were reminded of the anglerfish, and the glow of their fin ray. They used it to draw unsuspecting prey towards the light before they were devoured.

You took a small step back. She took one forward.

“I suppose I’ll just have to attend next year, I’ll be skipping the conference this year. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to do much learning or networking with my head plastered in a toilet bowl. I seem to have come down with something. Do you know what my symptoms are?” She asked, voice so sugary sweet and thick.

“Uhm. I-I’ve been on my period. Maybe we synced?” You hated how small your voice sounded.

Laura’s lips pressed into a thin, cruel smile, “No. I haven’t been throwing up with a cramping stomach because of my period. I’ve been vomiting non-stop because a little slut under my roof is trying to kill me. And do you know who that psychotic little tramp is?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, mouth parting in shock. Did your stepmother just call you a slut?

“ANSWER ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU!” She bellowed, making you jump and gasp. You’d never heard Laura raise her voice like that, it dropped several octaves and she was staring at you with nothing but pure hatred burning in her eyes.

All you could do was shake your head. You were terrified, but you weren’t about to play her game. You were neither a slut nor a tramp and it was clear, regardless of what you’d say or do, she’d be unleashing her wrath upon you.

Laura chuckled without humor, “You really are just a stupid, insignificant bitch, aren’t you? I open up my home to you and you do nothing but cause trouble every time I so much as turn my head. I have been nothing but kind to you, even after you wrecked my home. I’ve been an angel. But putting worms in my food?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I didn’t touch your food, I just got home from classes. An—And I didn’t ask for any of this, I didn’t ask to move here.” You could see tears beginning to blur your vision, welling up and threatening to cascade over your lower lashes. They didn’t. You refused to cry in front of her. Refused to give her that satisfaction.

“Oh, please.” Laura scoffed, looking at you in bewilderment, “Did you want to stay in the house where your mother was sliced and diced? Was that a comfort for you?”

“You know that’s not what I meant, I didn't want to start my life over in some town full of ignorant people.” You gritted out, hand clenching the bag of gummy worms.

“Ignorant people, and yet—you still don’t fit it in. Telling isn’t it?”

Despite your fear, you felt your own rage starting to build within you and before you could stop yourself, you spat out “What do you care? You never wanted me here. You just wanted my dad here in your clutches and you knew that wouldn’t happen if we hadn’t moved. He would have never chosen you over my mom.”

Laura sneered, “It’s not much of a choice when she’s rotting in some coffin, six feet under, is it? I’m sure she’s relieved to be done with you and all the disgusting things you do for attention.”

“Shut up!” You demanded, seething now as the devil incarnate dared to speak about your mother in such a disrespectful manner. Laura was only able to sleep in a bed alongside your father—wear that tacky ring on her finger because your mother had tragically lost her life.

Laura wouldn’t be but a mosquito in the room if your mother were alive.

You hadn’t been expecting the strike that came next, hadn’t been prepared for Laura to pull her arm back and swing it forward, cracking your cheek so hard you almost spun. You yelped, hand reaching up to press against the skin of your cheek, feeling it throb and sting under your touch.

She fucking hit you. You gaped at her in disbelief and Laura didn’t look remotely apologetic.

“I am beyond tired of you and I am not going to wait until some maniac guts me to be rid of you. Especially when you’re already a threat to my life. No. I won’t stand for it, so I took it upon myself to begin your admittance to Hawkins National Psychiatric Center.

Your blood ran cold as images of the unsettling ‘center’ flooded your mind. You’d heard of it before, horror stories told amongst your peers. A psych ward. And Laura Cunningham was going to have you committed.

“No, please. No.” You whispered, voice laced with fear.

“It’s for the good of everyone,” Laura began, leering over you. “You don’t belong here. Your place is locked up, solitary confinement where no one will have to see you ever aga—

THUNK.

Laura let out the smallest of gasps.

You watched the unsettling blue of her eyes give away to whites and red veins as they rolled to the back of her head, her body going limp as she tipped forward and fell face first to the ground. Your mouth dropped open as you watched her collapse, gurgling and twitching on the ground for just a few seconds before she went still. Then your gaze flitted to Eddie, who stood tall with your old sewing machine clutched in his hand, a corner stained red.

Your eyes flashed back down to Laura, and they widened in size when the pink of your carpet began to turn a bright red, blood seeping out of her skull to pool around her head and soak into the floor.

Eddie made a grunt that sounded more so like a noise of satisfaction and tossed the sewing machine back into the closet.

You heard them before you saw them. Eddie had found the small pair of scissors included with your sewing machine and clipped them in the air before he bent down. You could only watch, stunned silent and with morbid curiosity as Eddie snipped your stepmother’s ear off.

“Oh, god…” You finally found your voice, eyes darting anywhere else to avoid seeing the skin severed. You breathing became labored, chest rising and falling rapidly as you staved off a panic attack while your undead friend cut the ear from Laura’s dead body.

Eddie held it up in triumph, like it was some sort of medal rather than a human ear.

“Wha─? Why─?” You couldn’t even finish a sentence and Eddie must have noticed how distraught you were. He rose from the floor, stepping over Laura’s body to pull you into his arms and despite what had just occurred, you returned the embrace; arm slipping under his to clutch at the back of his shoulder, desperate for the comfort he was offering. His hand rubbed circles over your back and you leaned your cheek against Eddie’s shoulder, stare never once leaving Laura’s body as you whimpered.

When he pulled back—just enough to be able to look at your face—he held the ear up, towards you.

You knew exactly what he was asking you to do.

”Eddie…I—I can’t. I can’t do that…We have to bury the body first.” You placed a hand on his chest, leaning into him again as you both turned your heads to stare at someone who was no longer a problem for you. For the first time, in a very long time, you felt safe.

Eddie had rescued you.

Moving the body was surprisingly easy. You’d expected Eddie’s limbs to be fragile for some reason, a foolish thought considering he’d so easily crashed through your window that first night. Eddie actually possessed a great deal of strength, easily lifting Laura’s body—wrapped in sheets—and carrying her downstairs.

Movement seemed to be getting easier for him, limbs that had been out of use for years returning to life and unstiffening just as he had. If his arms could support Laura’s body with no problem, you wondered what had happened to his missing hand in the first place.

You made sure the coast was clear before you pulled your bus up the driveway and Eddie placed the body in the back. It obviously hadn’t been strapped down, so while you drove to the cemetery, Laura’s body was rolling around, banging against the sides of the Volkswagen. Eddie just turned up the music you’d been playing.

The cemetery was vacant, thanks to the relatively early time of the day. Most people still hadn’t gotten off of work yet, which made this easy for you and Eddie. It wasn’t the most respectful thing to do—you were just out of options. A grave had already been dug out, for some poor recently deceased soul (not Laura, she could go to hell), so, the two of you had quite literally dumped Laura’s body into the empty hole and covered her with a layer of dirt so she’d go unnoticed when they’d lower the coffin, of whoever’s grave this was, into it.

After the deed was done, the two of you stood side-by-side, staring into it.

“Is death comforting?” You asked, breaking the silence. Eddie didn’t answer, didn’t even grunt, so you turned your head to the side to find him already staring at you.

He shook his head.

“Good. C’mon.” You gave the burial plot, now and forever housing Laura, an extremely and aggressively disrespectful finger, and tugged Eddie back to the bus. He went willingly after kicking some more dirt into it.

When the two of you returned home—after you briefly stopped for ice cream while Eddie waited in the bus—you’d gotten straight to work; Eddie’s head in your lap as you sewed the ear into place.

While you threaded the needle through the skin, Eddie waited patiently, thumb playing with your fishnets. Once you knotted the string and used your teeth to nip off the excess, you admired your work.

Good stitching, secure and it wouldn’t fall off. The coloring was a bit odd, skin appearing obviously more lively than Eddie’s dull gray-green tint. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Done.” You announced, hands resting on the mattress at your sides. Slowly, Eddie rose to a sitting position, head shifting around to face you, “What’s the survey say? Ear any good? Hear anything?”

Those big, deep brown, baby cow eyes of his looked despondent as he shook his head.

“Mm-mm.”

You sighed, feeling a bit despondent yourself. He’d saved you from a life of medicated compliance and padded walls, and you couldn’t even get the human ear you’d stitched to the side of his head to work. You felt guilty knowing you couldn’t make him whole again, as he so desperately wanted to be. Couldn’t be his blue fairy.

You reached your fingers up, tips brushing alongside the soft outer edge of his ear. How funny that an appendage that had once belonged to the nastiest person you’d ever encountered, a woman who hated your very existence, was now endearing because it was a part of the guy before you. Your friend. Your protector. What had taken place that afternoon would no doubt lead to trouble, but you knew Eddie hadn’t acted out of malice.

He’d simply wanted to help you. And—okay, yes, he got an ear out of it, but it didn’t work. What mattered is that you weren’t alone anymore. You had someone that actually cared about you. Enough to kill for you, even.

It felt…like you mattered to someone.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled in disappointment, “I really did think it was gonna work, too. Guess Laura’s still useless, even when she’s dead.”

Your hand dropped back into your lap as the two of you simultaneously heaved out sighs.

“At least you have something there, you know?” You tried to see the positive side, keep Eddie happy, “Like nipples with boob jobs. The dial doesn’t work but you can still turn the knob.”

He made a humming sound, contemplating the analogy, weighing it as his head tilted this way and that way.

“Maybe it’ll catch up with you later, like the rest of your body. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you getting better at moving around.” You teased, nudging your shoulder playfully against his.

Eddie stiffened and you thought you might have offended him, “I mean—I’m not paying super duper close attention or anything, I just like to watch you—It’s not like I see a living dead guy every day.”

“Unngh.” Eddie seemed to pay no attention to your word vomiting, pointing at a sharpie on your nightstand.

“What? This?” You reached over and snagged it, offering it to him. He carefully took it from your hands, his hardened fingers brushing over your soft ones, and awkwardly popped the cap off with his thumb.

Your eyebrows shot up as Eddie began doodling on the skin of your hand near your thumb and index finger.

“Why did I think you were illiterate?” You mused aloud and Eddie briefly stopped to glare at you and grunted, unamused, “You can’t blame me, you could have picked up a pen and paper this entire time, hell—I have an Etch A Sketch you could have been using instead of making me decipher your ‘uuunnngghhss’.” You did your best impression of his zombie grunting and he put the sharpie between his thighs so he could flick the cap at you.

Like an expert dodger, you lifted your hand just in time for it to bounce off your palm as you giggled and he went back to finishing up his little doodle.

A lightning bolt.

Your lips pulled into a soft smile as you admired it, something warm pooling in your belly. It was cute and there was something very attractive to you about walking around with Eddie’s little sketch on you.

An Eddie Was Here, if you will.

And then it hit you. Lightning.

“OH.”

Eddie grunted, pleased that you’d picked up on what he was trying to convey.

“But how are we gonna…” You trailed off, brows furrowing as a montage of the two of you played in your head; sticking a metal rod in the ground with Eddie holding onto it as you waited for some approaching storm to electrocute him. The only problem was the weather forecast for the week predicted nothing but sunshine and clear, starry nights. No electrocution for the week. Unless…. “Oh my god.”

You turned to Eddie, grinning almost maniacally, “I’m a genius.”

Forty minutes later, you found yourself staring at your reflection in the vanity mirror Chrissy had set up inside the tan shack. It was softly aglow with pink and warm hued fairy lights, and neon blue coming from the tanning bed. One of her beauty pageant crowns was placed on your head, and you had to admit, it did make you feel pretty. It looked good on you, too. Huh. Maybe you should have done pageants, could have won one, even.

Sparks flew from the tanning bed, some feet away, with Eddie inside of it.

It was the next best thing to actually being struck by lightning. Well, it was either the tanning bed or electrocuting him in the small pool with a plugged in radio, but you didn’t want to get wet.

You grabbed a little fairy wand, no doubt part of one of Chrissy’s pageant costumes—probably Galinda—and posed with it, pleased with your reflection. Your hair was frizzy and it somehow added to your allure.

You could rock with this confidence thing for a while if it made you not hate yourself like usual.

The tanning bed’s buzzing whirled down until it was silent, save for a few random sparks, and the bed opened up, top lifting to reveal Eddie laying in a cloud of smoke, wearing those little goggles you’d insisted on to protect those pretty eyes of his.

You got up to check on him, tapping his chest with the end of the wand, “You baked enough?”

He groaned as he sat up and dinged his head on the top of the tanning bed and you flinched, dropping the wand.

“Ooh, yeah, I’ve been there too.”

Grabbing onto his hand, you helped pull him out of the tanning bed to sit on the edge and sat beside him, pushing the goggles up his large forehead and pinning away his bangs.

Eddie didn’t say anything, just blinked sluggishly. He was baked alright, that voltage was no joke.

“Eddie,” You leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Can you hear me in there?”

No reaction.

“EDDIE MUNSON, CAN YOU HEAR ANYTHING I AM SAYING?!”

To your amazement, Eddie flinched away from your shrieking, and with his face turned to you, you noticed he looked different, skin more…skin like. Not the leather you’d noticed before. He still hadn’t answered you, so you kept going, “IS THAT A YES—YEAH?”

Eddie groaned out, face affronted as you continued to scream at him and your shrieking turned into screams of excitement. Eddie joined you in yelling (well, he tried, it was very loud groaning) when it dawned on him.

It worked. Eddie Munsons had two working ears.

“Oh my god!” You flung yourself at him and immediately jolted away when you got shocked. Eddie reached out for you, resting his hand on your shoulder, “No, it’s okay, that was on me. I got too excited, but oh my god! Eddie! It worked! We got you a working ear!”

You were beaming, felt like you’d cracked the secret of life. And it looked like Eddie was trying to smile at you, corners of his lips pulled up just a tad.

The two of you looked ridiculous, you with your frizzy hair, crown and fairy wand, and Eddie with his electrocuted hairdo, tanning goggles making his bangs look insane and a slightly discolored (actually, it was looking more like his skin tone now, bizarre) ear, with one earring and one hand.

You glanced down at your arm; specifically, at Eddie’s arm resting against it. The one that lacked a hand.

Well, you’d already started.

“I think I know someone who can give you a hand.”

#Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Freak like me #lisa frankenstein #lisa frankenstein inspo #Zombie!eddie munson #dead!eddie munson #undead!eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson au #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #Steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x black!reader

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 3 months

Text

ceilings pt2 - san (m)

summary: pe teacher!san x not so single mom!reader. now that san knows about his daughter, he's determined to worm his way into her life. and yours. and maybe your home? or, the one where violet's mom and dad fall in love.

word count: 16.3k (i could say i'm sorry but i'm not)

warnings: SMUT! afab reader, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving). this is unedited and i am sorry about that

masterlist / part one

"mommy, where's daddy?"

"he's at home, sugar," you answer violet. she's been asking about her dad a lot more lately, considering she now knows that san, her pe teacher, is her father. the two of you told violet the same night that you told san, and at first you worried that was the wrong choice. you were worried this would be too much for violet all at once and she wouldn't understand, so you and san came up with a plan.

you still drove violet to school every day, but she'd come home with san. he'd always bring her back to your house and watch her until you got home. every other night, the two of you would make dinner, or san would treat his girls to whatever they wanted if you were too lazy to cook. on the weekends, he and violet had daddy daughter days where he took her to the park, to birthday parties, friend's houses for playdates, the store...they went anywhere and everywhere together. daddy daughter days were always followed by family fun days where san would spend the night and wake up with you in his arms and violet knocking at the door asking to play. these were his favorites (and yours too) because it was just a glimpse of how wonderful your life as a family could be.

it was so hard for san to leave, though. he hated going back to his empty apartment during the week, and family fun days usually carried over into monday morning. the only thing stopping san from coming back and staying that night, and the next, and the next..the only thing stopping him was you.

you claim you were too afraid of changing violet's schedule so quickly, because san was, in a way, still a stranger to your daughter. you were afraid of doing anything that would hurt violet now or later on in life, so you wanted to take things slow with san. in reality, you were afraid of opening your own life to him. you know he's a great dad, you know you can trust him with violet, but you're afraid of trusting him with yourself. honestly, violet has been handling this great. now it's just you that needs to adjust.

you will say, the only growing pain so far is 1) getting violet to refer to san as mr. choi still at school and 2) getting her to not call him mr. dad at home. other than that, she's loving this whole dad thing. she's got another playmate, a new best buddy, a partner in crime. it's so cool seeing violet and san bond finally, and every day you catch yourself loving them both more and more.

"when we finish dinner, can we call him?" she asks. (she saw him less than an hour ago.)

"as soon as you eat your broccoli," you tell her, and you have to stifle a laugh at the way she rolls her eyes. your little drama queen. she listens though, because she's done with her food in record time. you let her take your phone and call her dad, laughing at the way she's speaking a mile a minute as soon as he picks up.

while violet and san talk, you clean up dinner. you don't have to do much, because san did most of your dishes while he waited for you to get home from work today. you're trying to balance the mess in your fridge and find space for the leftovers when you notice something you don't remember buying. you pull it out and see a handwritten note, from san, telling you he bought your favorite dessert "just because." you're pulling it from the fridge to sneak a couple bites without violet knowing when she appears in the doorway, your phone smooshed between her cheek and her shoulder. squeezed in her hands is san's old pillow, shiber, and she plays with it as she asks, "mommy? can daddy spend the night?"

"huh?" you laugh, recognizing how odd that sentence is. it's just another reminder for you that you need to get comfortable with san being here, being with you, because the longer you wait, the less she gets to see of her dad. you can hear san faintly through the phone, and then violet nods, goes, "mhm, she's right here," then passes the phone to you. "daddy said he wants to talk to you."

"is this the handsome man who left a tiramisu in my fridge this afternoon?" you greet him, and you get butterflies in your stomach when you hear his happy laugh.

"and what if it is?"

"thank you, san."

"of course, m'love," he says like it's nothing. "figured you would like it."

"so what's this i hear about you spending the night?" you ask as you try a bite of the tiramisu. it's sweet and comforting, just like san.

"that was violet's idea, i swear-"

"so you won't admit that you miss me?" you tease.

"will you admit that you miss me?" he gives it right back, and you feel your face flush.

"i do," you nod. "i miss you. if you want to spend the night tonight you can. sorry you had to go home-"

"don't say sorry," he cuts you off. "i'll be there in 20."

san is at your house in 15 minutes. he lets himself in, which will never not surprise you, because you're so used to being the only person with a key to your house. while you're recovering from the small heart attack of thinking an intruder was opening the front door, violet comes tearing out of her room screeching for her dad. she's so happy to see him, she jumps into his arms and he has to catch himself on the door to stop from falling. you let them have a moment, content to hang off to the side but san pulls you into his side and places a delicate kiss on your cheek.

"hey," he smiles.

"hello," you squeak, and he squeezes you closer to his side. "you want me to take your stuff to our room?"

"our room?" he asks, his smile growing bigger. "you've never called it that before."

"do you want me to take it or not," you deadpan, trying to will the blush away from your cheeks.

"yeah, you can take my stuff to our room," he emphasizes. "i'll get our daughter ready for bed."

"no!" violet whines. "you just got here!"

"you still have school tomorrow, bug," he tells her, booping her nose. "gotta stick to bedtime, but i'll read you an extra book after your bath. ok?"

"ok," she grumbles, wiggling her way out of his arms so she can stomp off to her room. you and san share a laugh and you turn to take his things, but his firm hand tugging your wrist stops you. he pulls you back to his side, cupping his hand under your chin so he can kiss your lips swiftly.

"you know we can kiss in front of her, right?" you whisper to him, but san shakes his head.

"wanted that one to be just for me and you," he says, his hand slipping from your wrist to playfully pat your ass. "go, i'll get her bath started."

"so pushy," you grumble, but you see san smiling from the corner of your eye as you take his things to your room.

not so long after that, you find your little family cuddled up on violet's bed. you're pushed up against the wall, violet smushed into your side, and san's broad form takes up the rest of the bed. he's reading a book to violet that's putting you and your daughter to sleep, and before you know it you've drifted off. you register a soft kiss to your forehead, the bed shifting a little, and then you fall into the deepest sleep you've had in years.

you wake up the next morning in a similar way, except this time, you feel two pairs of lips kissing you. you open your eyes to violet kissing your cheek and san pulling back from kissing your forehead. they're both dressed for school, and you sit up in a panic, mumbling incoherently.

"shh, baby, go back to sleep," san soothes you. "i'll take violet to school, i reset your alarm so you can rest a little more before you have to leave for work."

"what?" you ask groggily, and san explains that the three of you fell asleep in violet's bed. she woke up before her alarm, which woke san up, and he made their breakfast and packed their lunches while violet got dressed. there was nothing for you to do but sit there confused, a pleasant feeling blossoming in your chest. "i guess i'll see you tonight then?"

"you will," san nods, brushing some hair out of your face. "now please, go back to sleep."

"no," you shake your head, reaching for violet. "goodbye hugs. have a good day at school, sugar."

"i will!" she chirps. "it's a pe day, so i get to eat lunch in daddy's office!"

"ooo, i'm jealous," you say as you let her go. you blow san a kiss as he ushers violet out of her room, and he catches it dramatically and pops it into his pocket. he winks at you before he closes the door, reminding you one last time to rest before he leaves. when you hear the front door close, you let yourself fall back onto violet's pillows, catching the scent of san lingering in the sheets. you could get used to mornings like this.

san and violet have a great day at school. as promised, she got to eat lunch in his office, and she felt like the coolest person in the world getting walked back to class by her dad. hand in hand they go back to miss jen's room, meeting the class outside as they take a potty break. violet runs to join her friends, so san stops to say hi to jen.

"we missed you at lunch today," she says. "wooyoung thought you were having a conjugal visit with your wife."

"shut up."

"his words, not mine," she says, putting her hands up. "but violet told me you brought her to school today? is y/n ok?"

"yeah, she's fine," san shrugs. "i just figured she could use the sleep, so i got violet ready and brought her with me this morning."

"you spent the night?" jen wiggles her eyebrows.

"it's not like that," san laughs. "we all slept in violet's bed, no funny business."

"that's fucking cute," jen whispers, her eyes looking over her class to make sure they didn't hear her use a bad word. "things must be going well then!"

"it was violet's idea, me spending the night," san sighs, "but y/n was fine with it, so i guess, yeah, things are great."

"why don't you ask to move in? i know you want to."

"y/n would say no," san shakes his head. "she's not ready for that."

"then we'll make her ready!" jen decides. "i need you two to be madly in love already. i'm living vicariously through you right now."

"if you would just go on a date with wooyoung-"

"stop," jen points a harsh finger in san's face. "we are friends."

"friends who like each other-"

"come on, class, let's go!" jen calls for her kids, and san sticks his tongue out at her as she hurries off. if jen can play matchmaker with him and y/n, then san has every right to get her to realize wooyoung is obsessed with her. he'll bring it up to y/n tonight, see what else they can do.

seeing as you and san are trying to figure this whole estranged friends turned lovers turned parents thing out, one thing you struggle with is finding moments just to be a couple together. you and san never dated, really. yes, some of your time in college could constitute as the early stages of a relationship, but that doesn't really count. you're not sure you and san have ever been on a date under the premise of it being a date, but you are absolutely dating. he's your boyfriend, and you're his girlfriend. it feels trivial trying to define what you are to each other considering the circumstances, so you and san barely talk about it. it hasn't come up in a while, actually, but one friday while you're picking violet up from school, san approaches your car with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"hey beautiful," he greets you, leaning down to give you a kiss as yeosang (mr. kang, the librarian) helps violet into her carseat. at the sound of your lips popping apart from san's, yeosang gasps dramatically with violet.

"how dare you do that in public," yeosang shakes his head. "there's children present."

"mommy and daddy kiss all the time," violet tells him, and you all stifle laughs at the disgust in her voice.

"thanks for the help, man," san calls to yeosang as he heads off to grab the next carpooler. san ducks his head back into your car to ask, "what are you doing tonight?"

"hmm, nothing really," you think. "somebody has to help me clean the living room," you say with a glance to violet in the rearview, and she looks around like she can't hear you, "but other than that we're not busy. why?"

"let me take you out," san smiles.

"just me?"

"yep."

"what's our kid gonna do?"

"wooyoung can watch her," san shrugs, and you look at him skeptically. "orrr we could bother jen last minute-"

"she's got a date," you inform him, and san looks sad for a moment. "what's wrong with that?"

"that's gonna kill wooyoung," he sighs. "but whatever. he'll be fine with violet, he handles a third grade class on his own and so far he's only killed a fish."

"what?"

"baby, please," san starts to beg, grabbing one of your hands in his bigger ones and squeezing tight. "i would like to go on a date with you tonight. please say yes."

"of course i'll go out with you sannie," you reply, using your free hand to reach out and push some of his hair out of his eyes. "if you trust wooyoung with violet, then sure. just tell me where to be and when."

"be ready at seven," san smiles so big you're afraid it'll split his face. "i'll pick you up. dress sexy."

"san!"

"mommy, what does sexy mean?"

"sorry," san smiles still, leaning in to kiss you one last time. "see you later. bye bug!"

"bye daddy!"

you've always tried to be a good role model for violet, to show her what a strong woman looks like. you're not sure how that's translating tonight though, because you're stressing so much about this date with san that violet, in her little kid ways, is trying to comfort you. first she brought you her favorite stuffie to keep you company while you got ready. while you showered and stressed over your makeup, violet cleaned her toys in the living room without being asked. when she finished that and saw you were still frantic, she just climbed on your bed amidst the piles of clothes and started giving her own advice.

"daddy likes when you have sparkles on your eyes," she suggests, and you know she means glittery eyeshadow. san says it makes your eyes look like the night sky, and it always makes your stomach flip.

"if i wear that eyeshadow, then i need to wear one of these," you say as you hold up your outfit options. "these colors go together best."

"really?" violet scrunches her face up.

"yes? why?"

"that shirt is ugly," she says bluntly, pointing to the hanger in your right hand. "but i don't like that dress either. it's a yucky color."

the "yucky" color was an olive green, which you thought wasn't that bad, but violet had a point. the shirt was ugly now that you looked at it, and if she hated the dress too...

"what do you think i should wear, baby?" you ask as you try to organize the mess on your bed. "you pick."

"mmm, something blue," she says confidently, so you help her look. surprisingly, she puts together an outfit that you really like. violet stands in front of you in the floor length mirror, staring up at you proudly. you lean down to squeeze her into a tight hug, kissing her cheek before telling her this outfit is perfect.

violet looks so pleased with herself as you stand back up and watch her in the reflection. you focus a lot on how violet looks like san, but every once in a while you look at her and get this indescribable feeling of recognition in your chest. she is your daughter through and through, and you love sharing moments like these with her. as you stand there, you quickly notice that same glint of mischief you've seen in san's eyes before as she says, "do you think daddy's gonna call you sexy again?"

san comes over early with wooyoung in tow. the first thing he says when he enters your home isn't a hello, a nice to meet you, or anything remotely polite. he looks you dead in the eyes and asks, "why is jen on a date with seonghwa?!"

"excuse me?" you ask, looking from him to your date. san just shrugs before running off to find violet, leaving you all alone to answer wooyoung's interrogation.

"i mean, i've only been in love with her for years and instead of going out with me she picks this guy just because he's new and shiny and annoying.." wooyoung grumbles.

"you're annoying too, man," san says as he enters the room with violet in his arms.

"hi mr. wooyoung," she chirps, and wooyoung smiles warmly at her.

"hey violet! i'm your dad's best friend, so i think you and i will be best friends, too."

"i thought mommy was his best friend," violet pouts, and that sends wooyoung into another rant.

"you can have more than one best friend," you tell your daughter. "mommy has more than one best friend, and nobody is upset about that," you shoot wooyoung a look, and the mom eyes get him to shut up. "also, if you've been in love with jen for years then you've had plenty of chances to ask her out. sorry that seonghwa manned up and did it before you-"

"wooyoung, let me show you where all of vi's stuff is," san cuts in, afraid that you and wooyoung were about to get into a catty argument. you'd be late for your reservation if san let you keep going, so he runs through all the important things for wooyoung as you finish making violet's dinner. you don't hear san join you in the kitchen, too distracted by the sound of wooyoung and violet pretending to be what sounds like fighter pilots in the living room. you jump when san wraps his hands around your waist, sliding under the apron you tied over your dress to keep it pristine while you cooked.

"hey gorgeous," he whispers into your ear, and you feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as his lips trail from your ear down the column of your neck and to the exposed skin on your shoulder. he turns you around, hands still firmly around your waist, and he kisses you quickly. against your lips, he whispers, "this dress is gonna kill me."

"you'll be fine," you whisper back, hands rubbing over the crisp black fabric struggling to stay buttoned over his broad chest. you take him in then, the all black outfit making him look so handsome it's almost intimidating. the way his shirt is buttoned all the way to his neck, though...

"what's wrong?" san asks, his thumb rubbing at the crease between your eyebrows. "is my shirt wrinkly?"

"no, you just look like a waiter-"

"y/n," san whines, his hands squeezing your waist. "seriously baby?"

"well it's just," you start, your fingers finding their way to the collar of his shirt. "with all the buttons done up, yes, you look like a - very handsome - waiter. i think it'd look better this this," you mumble, undoing the top few buttons. now it's san's turn to get goosebumps, little tingles traveling across his skin as your fingers brush against his neck. you readjust his collar to show a little more skin, and you smile, satisfied with your work when you notice how flushed he is.

"better?" he asks as he clears his throat, and you nod.

"will you get violet in here? her food is ready."

once violet is set up at the kitchen table with her dinner, you and san start to say your goodbyes. you're running through violet's nighttime routine with wooyoung, and the boys assure you that you'll come home to your daughter in one piece.

"i've watched kids before, y/n," wooyoung says. "violet will be fine."

"you know i'll kick your ass if we come home and she's not," san says, and you hit his arm as violet calls out, "swear jar, daddy!"

"ok, we really need to go," you say. "we're gonna be late-"

"wait!" wooyoung shouts, getting up from the kitchen table with his phone out. "baby's first date. i need to get a picture."

"wooyoung," you groan as san says, "let him, baby. it'll be cute."

so you let wooyoung dramatically take pictures of you and san together, treating this more like senior prom than a date with someone you've known for almost ten years. san is eating this up, but you're trying to fight it. he's wrapping you in his arms, trying to kiss you for the photos, and you can't help it, you become a giggly mess. wooyoung is cooing over you two as he snaps the photos, but your eyes find violet watching from the kitchen. she's smiling, and it almost makes you tear up. you hope violet remembers moments like this as she gets old, and remembers how much you love san and how much he loves you. you want this same kind of love for her, something pure, protective, and so caring. you want this girl's standards so high, because she deserves all the love in the world. you wonder for a moment if you've found that kind of love, and when san calls your name to lead you out the door, you know. the look in his eyes tells you just how loved you are.

you and san share a beautiful evening together. san took you into the city to one of your favorite restaurants, and you were spoiled all night. dinner was delicious, the champagne was just strong enough that you're just tipsy but still very aware of how warm san makes you feel, and you share a dessert that you took turns feeding to each other. as far as "first" dates go, this was absolutely perfect.

neither of you wanted to leave, but you knew you had to get home for violet. she's on your mind as you make the short walk back to san's car, and a sign in the distance catches your eye. you turn to san with a twinkle in your eyes and say, "let's get donuts."

"what? baby, aren't you stuffed?" he asks, but you shake your head and grab his hand anyway. you lead the way to the donut shop a few blocks down, san following behind you with a content smile on his face. he'd follow you anywhere, he thinks. hell, if you wanted to run down this street until you ran out of road he'd follow you. he's glad the trek isn't that far though, but he wonders briefly if your shoes will be able to make the walk back to the car.

"violet will be so stoked to have donuts for breakfast tomorrow," you finally explain, and san nods along as you pick out what's left from the day. you're still gripping his hand firmly in yours, so you struggle to reach your purse when it's time to pay. san uses his free hand to take out his wallet, paying before you have a chance.

"still date night, still my treat," he whispers to you before kissing the top of your head. he takes the bag of donuts from the cashier as you both call out your thanks, and san sees you grab a couple napkins before he tugs you out of the store.

"gimme," you reach out for the bag, and san holds it out to you. you search for something, tongue peeking out between your lips in concentration. when you find what you want, you pull it out with one of the napkins, presenting a strawberry frosted donut with sprinkles. you take a bite, humming at the sweetness, and then you hold it up in front of san's face. "take a bite, it's really good."

"i'm full my love," he tells you, but you bump the donut into his mouth anyway. when he laughs, you try it again and aim for his open mouth, but he keeps managing to pull away. laughing softly, you come to a stop at a red light, and you decide to address something.

"san? you know i love you right?" you ask, and san looks at you in confusion. "what? you didn't know?"

"no, i knew," he shakes his head. "but, baby, i don't think we've said that to each other before."

"yes we have," you scoff, but san shakes his head again.

"as friends, yeah. but not seriously."

"oh."

"yeah."

"sorry?"

"sorry?" san chuckles, the light turning so you can cross the street. he watches you carefully try to navigate the bumpy crosswalk, and when you look back up at him he sees that you're blushing.

"yeah, i'm sorry i said it like that for the first time," you shrug. "like it wasn't a big deal."

"it's still a big deal," he assures you.

"but that's not how you're supposed to tell someone you love them!"

"i think we just do things differently, baby."

"whatever," you mumble. you're stopped at another light, so you turn to him fully, eyes holding his gaze, and say, "choi san, i love you."

"y/f/n," he replies, "i love you even more."

"oh really?"

"yeah," he nods. "like, way more."

"hmm."

"and you know what?" he asks. you hum in reply, and he continues. "i think your name would sound a loooot better with my last name."

"what?" you stop in your tracks. "are you-"

"i'm not proposing," he laughs. "just flirting, a little bit."

"oh so we're flirting now?" you ask. "then might i say, your ass looks great in those slacks."

"classy," san squeaks out. you're coming up on the street where you parked, and you stop san before he can turn. he's about to ask why, but you just point up toward the buildings ahead. it's a clear night, so you can almost see the stars in the night sky, but the skyline is glittering in front of you so beautifully it takes your breath away. you stand together admiring it, and only when you turn to find san already looking at you do you pull him in the direction of the car.

he unlocks the car from your side, but you stop him before he can leave. you wrap your arms around his neck, lean your face close to his, and whisper, "i love you so much, san." you kiss his forehead, then his nose, then his lips, and he boxes you in so you're pressed against the cool metal of the car as he deepens the kiss. you make out for what feels like only a few seconds, but when san finally pulls away you notice you're out of breath.

"let's go home," he whispers, a fire in his eyes you've only seen once before. you've got butterflies in your stomach as san drives home, a firm hand on your thigh the whole way. you're watching him the whole drive, and san tries to focus on the road. he steals glances as much as he can, and when you get close to your house you start to get antsy. you place your hand on his, pushing it ever so slightly farther up your leg, and san's other hand is gripping the wheel so hard he's afraid it'll snap. he speeds the final few minutes back to your house, and as soon as the car is off he's grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours. your hands start at his shoulders and slowly make their way down...and then there's a buzzing sound coming from somewhere. you want to pull away and look for the phone, but san holds you tightly in place. you have to speak directly into his mouth to ask, "who is it?"

"who cares?" san mumbles back into your lips. he keeps kissing you, and the buzzing dies out. but then you feel your purse start to vibrate by your feet, and you push san away with a pop as his lips disconnect from yours, his mouth still pursed and eyes closed like he doesn't believe you actually pushed him away. you reach for your phone, mumbling about how it could be an emergency, and when you show him that it's wooyoung, you think you've been vindicated. you answer and ask quickly, "is violet alright?"

"i'm not getting paid for you two to make out in your driveway," wooyoung replies, and your head falls back with a sigh.

"you're not getting paid at all, wooyoung."

"what?!"

"thanks man!" san shouts into your phone. "totally ruined the moment!"

"good!" wooyoung shouts back. "i'm bitter! and bored! come inside!"

"i'm gonna punch him," san tells you as you collect your things. he's out of the car before you and rushes to open your door.

"you are not," you roll your eyes. "just get him out of the house quickly, please."

"fine," san grumbles as you get your keys out to unlock the door. wooyoung is faster though, tearing the door open with a big smile on his face.

"welcome home lovebirds," he greets you with a sweep of your arms. you almost gasp when you see your house, because it's cleaner than you've maybe ever seen it. you look to wooyoung in shock, and he shrugs. "told you, i was bored. violet's been asleep for about two hours, so i needed something to do."

"you cleaned my house," you say in disbelief, peeking around corners and seeing things neatly put away, blankets folded, dishes washed and dried. you turn to wooyoung and say, "i think i might love you."

"whoa," san jumps in. "let's not say things we don't mean."

"whatever," you say, still looking around in surprise. "wooyoung i take back anything bad i ever said about you."

"you said bad stuff about me?" he pouts, and you remind him, "jen? not asking her out when you're both obviously into each other?"

"you think jen's into me?" wooyoung asks, and it's his turn to be shocked.

"he's never gonna leave now," san sighs as he comes up behind you and tucks his head onto your shoulder. "i've told you that before, man."

"yeah, but you're not a reliable source," wooyoung chides. he's about to say something else, but you cut him off.

"listen, i'd be happy to tell you how in love jen is with you, but maybe another time," you say, trying to use the mom eyes on wooyoung again to get him to leave. it seems to work, because he looks between you and san with a knowing look in his eyes.

"right, right, you two probably wanna get busy," he nods, and you feel san groan rather than hear it. "i'll leave you to it, violet was telling me how she wants a baby brother-"

"alright man, i'll see you later," san says as he detaches from you and pushes wooyoung toward the door. you watch them bicker a little before san shoves his friend outside and closes the door softly after. he leans against it and sighs, eyes reopening to find you watching him. "c'mere."

you saunter over to him, hands cupping his chin as you place a chaste kiss to his lips. you think if you step back and head for your room he'll follow you, but instead he grabs you by the hips and spins you around so you're pressed against the door. he makes sure there's no space between you, your chest pressed to his and his hips slotted over yours as he leans down for another kiss. he slowly trails his lips down your chin, across your neck, and stops right where your collarbone dips down slightly. he sucks a kiss into your skin, relishing in the way your breath catches as you try to stay quiet. he stays there, biting and kissing at your neck, and you reach up with a shaky hand to snake your fingers through his hair. you pull him off of you, a sounds close to a growl coming from deep within san's chest. you stare into his eyes, that flame still flickering from before.

"let's go to our room," you say breathlessly, and san nods. before you can stop him, he's scooping you up in his strong arms and carrying you to the bedroom, a squeal dying on your lips as he kisses you harder. he's able to kick the door closed before he tosses you down on the bed. you watch as he undoes his belt and tosses it to the ground, and you giggle.

"somebody's eager," you tease, and san groans.

"been waiting too long for this, damn right i'm eager," he mumbles as he crawls on top of you. he kisses you again, and this time it's messier, more teasing, and it takes you back to the first time you and san were in this position. you remember how he made you feel like your skin was on fire, and you feel that same way now. he breaks away from you and just stares, which starts to weird you out.

"earth to sannie?" you whisper. "what are you doing?"

"admiring you?" he smiles. "sorry, i got distracted."

"you got distracted staring at me?"

"yeah?"

"you're sickening," you tell him before kissing him again. this time, you wrap your legs around his hips and flip him over so you're straddling his lap. san has that same dopey look on his face from a second ago, so you decide to do something that will break this sappy haze he seems to be in. "so i was going to take my dress off, but i'm not wearing much underneath it..."

"baby," he whines, holding your hips and kind of kicking around like he's having a tantrum. "why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"we never would've left," you answer, and he shuts up. you lean down to kiss him, and over his lips you tell him, "and if we hadn't gone on our perfect date, i wouldn't have told you i loved you," you kiss him, "and knowing you, if we had stayed home, this would've been faster," kiss, "more frantic," kiss, "and what's the fun in that? we took our time getting here. why don't we enjoy it?"

"exactly," san growls, using his hands on your hips to pull you closer to the tent in his pants. you gasp at the friction, so san moves your hips again, and again, as he says, "we've waited this long. i don't want to wait anymore, just wanna make love to you."

"oh you do?" you ask as your hands find the buttons on his shirt. you trail kisses across his jawline as you undo his shirt, sitting up to admire his broad chest as your hands slide under the fabric and push it away. san refuses to let go of you, so you leave his shirt hanging off his shoulders as you trace over every freckle, every line, every curve of his chest. your hands trail lower, reaching the waistband of his pants, and san grabs both of your hands in one of his to stop you.

"take your dress off," he says lowly, and you feel his words in the pit of your stomach.

"not fair," you pout, but he shakes his head.

"wanna see you," he says, already breathless. his hands find the hem of your dress, fingers tracing along your skin and sending goosebumps across your thighs. he helps you push the skirt of the dress up, and he lets out a hiss of breath when he sees your panties, almost the same shade of blue as the dress. you keep pulling the fabric up and over your body, and san moans softly when he sees you weren't wearing a bra. "baby, you're gonna be the death of me."

"told you there wasn't much underneath," you laugh as you pull his hands from their slow ascent up your legs. you bring them to your chest to cup your boobs, and san sighs at the soft feeling. you lean back down over him, replacing your mouth on his. you make out like that for a while, san getting lost in the feeling of having you this way again. he doesn't know how he went years without this. he curses himself for all the lost time, but he smirks into your mouth as he thinks of all the ways he can make up for it in the future. you feel the shift in his features, so you pull back and ask, "what are you thinkin about?"

"about how much i love you?" he tries, and you don't fall for it. he squeezes your chest as he admits, "thinkin about all the ways i wanna have you this weekend."

"have me?" you tease him, and he nods. "what's the first one?"

"want you to ride me."

"you sure? we made a baby like that the last time," you tell him as you unbutton his slacks anyway. you're both impatient, so you don't even try to get his pants off, just low enough for you to cup the bulge in his boxers before you pull those down too. his cock springs free, and you spit in your hand before wrapping your fist around it. you stroke him a few times, even though it's not necessary. san might be harder than he's ever been right now, but you can't help it. he's moaning beneath you so beautifully, you get lost in the sound until he moans out your name.

"y/n, please," he groans. "just sit on it, please. need to feel you, baby."

"what if i wasn't ready?" you ask, but you pull your panties to the side anyway.

"could feel you soaking my pants," san smirks. "can't be cocky when i know exactly how bad you want me, baby."

"shut up," you mumble, trying to focus on guiding his tip to your entrance. you feel his tip against you and you hiss, you forgot how big he was. you lower yourself on his cock, moaning softly as san holds onto your hips for dear life to keep from bucking up into you. he waits for you to settle in his lap, no space left between you, and then he lets out a deep breath.

"feels so good, y/n," he sighs. "like your pussy was made for me."

"i need a minute," you tell him, and he rubs soothing circles into your skin.

"take your time my love," he says. your eyes are screwed shut, genuinely not used to feeling this full, and san reaches a hand up to your face to soothe the tension away. his other hand travels to your core, swiping through the arousal dripping from you so he can drag his finger up to your clit. he draws lazy circles around it, tapping over the bundle so softly. if you weren't so desperate for his touch, maybe you wouldn't be jerking at each little movement, but it's helping you relax.

you feel ready to move, and you place your hands over san's stomach for leverage as you pull off of him, leaving just the tip in. san's going crazy, he's trying to hard to go at your pace, to let you take your time, but he's losing that battle fast. he watches as you bounce above him, cupping your chest and focusing on your nipples so he doesn't put all his attention on how bad he wants to fuck up into you, to make another baby with you. he wants to enjoy this, like you said, he wants to take it slow if that's what you want, but god, he wants so much more.

"how do you feel baby?" he asks, and you whimper in response. that alone could kill a weaker man, he thinks, but the way you're gripping around his cock, how warm you are, how beautiful you sound, he's not going to last long. you put the final nail in his coffin when you whine out, "you feel so good sannie, missed you, missed your cock..."

san can't take it anymore, he grabs onto your hips again and slams you down onto his cock. he holds you there for a second, letting you feel every inch of him as you squirm in his lap, and just when he thinks you're about to tap out he grinds into you. you didn't think he could get deeper, but you can feel him in your gut. he pulls you up and guides you back down, and he does this a few more times before you finally gasp out, "'m close, sannie, 'm gonna come-"

and that's all he needs to hear. he holds you in place above him, braces himself from below, and starts fucking up into you. he's been waiting for this, god he's waited for this, and he wants to ingrain everything into his memory. the way you look, the way you sound, the way you feel. it's overwhelming, and he can't help it, he starts to come, fucking his load into you as he tries to get you to your own high. he brings his hand back to your clit, and you're gasping above him, coming so hard you think you see stars. san lets you catch your breath above him, his cock still buried deep inside you. he's also afraid that if you move, all his come will leak out, and selfishly, he doesn't want that to happen. he felt his heart skip an excited beat at the idea of having another kid with you, so he's happy to sit and wait until you're ready to move.

"fuck," you whisper as you start to separate from him. "fuck, that felt really good."

"and to think, you deprived yourself of that for so many years," san says with a shit eating grin. you pinch his chest as you get up, but he takes you by surprise and pins you down before you can leave the bed. "where ya goin?"

"to shower?" you reply, and san smirks above you.

"who said i was done lovin you though?"

san wakes up the next morning and immediately puts his arms out to find you. he sighs happily as he pulls you into his chest, nuzzling his head into your hair. he takes a deep breath in, thinking not for the first time that he would be happy staying like this for years. he doesn't know how you expect him to leave once this weekend is over, condemned to come and go just to end up at his lonely apartment each night. he understands why you both decided on this set up, but he hates it. he'll just have to find a way to convince you that you'd be miserable without san here 24/7, and he thinks he's got a good idea to start.

you'd think the three rounds last night would be enough for any regular man, but not san. now that he's had you again he can't help himself. even holding you and feeling your warm breath hit his chest has him shifting to accommodate the growing problem beneath the sheets. he has no idea how he was able to wait years to fuck you, because he can't imagine waiting another second right now. he slowly rolls you back onto your pillow, hoping he won't wake you just yet. he makes sure you're comfortably laid back and then he pushes the sheets away, crawling down until his face is level with your bare stomach.

he leaves light kisses across your skin, starting above your bellybutton and trailing down. he sucks a couple hickeys on the skin of your hips, tracing his thumbs over the reddened marks in satisfaction. you begged him not to leave too many marks last night, but he looks up proudly and sees the result of your lost fight. there's only one or two spots on your neck, but your collarbone and your chest are a different story. san wants you to know you're his, finally his, so if he has to leave daily love bites on your skin to remind you, he will. happily.

he kisses one of the marks on your hips now, licking the skin just to taste you. he feels himself get excited at the thought of really tasting you, and he continues his descent down to your core. he thought about this as you were falling asleep last night, but he's never really seen your pussy. the few times you've had sex, there were just other things on his mind, so now that he can, san takes his time admiring you. he uses his thumbs to pull your lips apart, moaning softly at the sight of his come dripping out of you or dried on your skin. he leans in and places a kiss over your clit, and your legs jerk, but you stay otherwise still. that won't do, san thinks, so he delicately traces your entrance, collecting some of the wetness that's still pouring from you, and strokes your clit. he licks over it carefully, wanting to savor this moment.

his ears perk up as he hears you start to whimper, so he cups his lips around your bundle of nerves and sucks ever so slightly. his fingers trail back to your entrance, dipping in just so, and he sets a steady rhythm of playing with your clit and easing his fingers into your core. he's focused on his work, determined to make you feel good, but he wants more. he switches his fingers up to your clit, your wetness helping them glide over you easily. he kisses down your pussy until he gets to your entrance and dips his tongue in. you stir again, so san repeats his movements, determined to wake you up. he loses himself at the taste of you, and when he thinks about last night, how many times he came inside you, he moans into your core. he's getting impatient, his senses drowning in you. all he can feel is you, all he can taste is you, all he hears is you calling his name...wait-

"sannie, fuck," you gasp above him, your hands pulling at his hair to get him away from your sensitive core, but he holds strong. you try to use your thighs to squeeze his head and push him away, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on your pussy, but he reaches up and holds your legs apart so he can eat you like a man starved. now that you're awake, he doesn't have to keep quiet. he's drunk on your pussy, moaning and slurping obscenely, mumbling about how good you feel, how good you taste, how he wants to make you feel good. you can't help it, you start to come, gasping above him trying to take a deep breath. san feels you tighten around his tongue, but he keeps going. he keeps eating your pussy like he'll never get the chance again, and your sleepy haze mixed with the way he's making you feel has your vision spotty and your mind in a haze. he gets you to come again soon after, and you finally whine his name loud enough for him to look up at you, his mouth lazily teasing you as you exhale, "well. good morning."

"morning baby," he smiles, your arousal all over his chin. you whine, and he strokes your thighs comfortingly as he asks, "can you give me another one? still hungry."

"we have donuts."

"they're not as sweet as you," he insists, diving back in. you can't keep up with him, your senses so overloaded with san that you're begging for something but you don't know what. san works you up to another release before giving you a break, crawling up your body and trailing kisses the whole way. you try slapping his chest, but the movement is so weak it only makes him laugh. "what are you doing, love?"

"trying to hit you," you reply. "i'd kick you but i don't think my legs work."

"good, i did my job then," san says happily. he collapses on top of you, and you blush at the feeling of the mess between your legs. with san's chin on your chest, staring at you so content, you flick his nose and he bursts into laughter. "what was that for?!"

"for being perfect. and for turning me into a shell of a woman. i can't move, seriously."

"need me to help you into the shower, doll?"

"no," you shake your head. "i don't trust what you'd do in there."

"nothing out of the ordinary," he smirks, and you flick his nose again. he moves quick, biting your finger before you can move away, and you squeal. with your finger between his teeth he asks, "so? shower?"

"if you can carry me, then yeah," you give in. san pulls himself out of bed, easily lifting you from the bed as you raise your arms to wrap around his neck. he places you delicately on the bathroom counter, laughing with you as you squeal over the cold marble. he runs a bath for you, insisting that if your legs don't work you shouldn't be standing in the shower. he helps you into the warm water once it's ready, and you assume he's going to join you but instead he turns back to your room. "baaabyyy," you whine, and he's in the doorway immediately.

"what's wrong? was it too much? are you sore?" he asks in worry, but you shake your head and make grabby hands for him in response. he smiles as he comes closer, holding your hands in his as he asks, "are you always this needy after sex?"

"yep," you reply. "get used to it. and get in the tub with me."

"can't," san sighs, dipping down to give you a kiss anyway. "i'm getting dressed and then checking on our daughter."

"she's probably still asleep," you say as you lay your head on the cool porcelain edge of the tub.

"then i won't be gone long," san tells you before ducking back out of the bathroom. you keep your head on the tub though, admiring him from afar. you love having him here, you think. you wonder if he'd be ok with staying longer than just a weekend.

while san took care of violet, you got an idea. you enjoyed the rest of your bath, but as soon as you were dressed you got down to business.

you were buried amongst boxes, piles of clothes, and shoes you'd never wear when san and violet come looking for you. you hear violet run into your bedroom calling for you with san right behind her, not sure if you were decent or not. when they don't see you in the bedroom, san peeks into the bathroom as vi goes for your closet, and she giggles when she sees you on the floor.

"mommy, what are you doing?" she asks, kneeling down in the mess anyway.

"i'm cleaning out my closet, bug," you answer. you push a box toward her and say, "call for your dad, i want him to look through those."

"i'm right here," san appears, popping his head through the door. he looks at you quizzically, then decides to go with it and kneel next to violet.

"i'm cleaning out my closet," you repeat. "i want you to go through that box next to vi, that's all of her work from preschool. you can keep any of it that you want."

"really?"

"yeah, we've got plenty of it around the house, and i've basically made wallpaper out of it for my office, so i figured you might like some," you shrug.

"thank you baby," he smiles, dimples on full display. you watch fondly as he settles on the ground, violet climbing into his lap almost as a reflex. they sit together and go through everything, violet giving commentary on what she remembers and calling on you to explain what she doesn't. you're constantly in motion, trying to organize your clothes and make piles of what you can donate. you turn to your family every so often for opinions, violet giving it to you straight when she thinks something is ugly, and san being no help at all. he just says you'll look great in whatever you're holding up, and borders on compliments too vulgar for your daughter to hear. it's a good thing violet knows how to speak her mind, because with her brutal honesty and a good idea of what clothes will drive san insane, you're left with the perfect amount of clothes.

you won't take any outside input on which shoes to donate, though. that's a personal decision for you, and san is smart enough to stay out of it. violet, on the other hand, picks up her favorite shoes and tries them on, laughing with glee when she trips and san has to dive to catch her. she asks if she can keep some of the shoes for herself, but knowing how expensive they are, you try to find nice ways to tell her to back off. san promises to buy her "mommy shoes" and that seems to satisfy her, but now she's bored and wants to go play. you shoot san a sympathetic glance as he's pulled out of the closet by your hyperactive kid, and then you're alone. you step back and look at the space you were able to clear, and you think that should be enough for san's things. you can always use the hall closet if he needs more space, but he's a man, how many clothes does he need?

"hey," he whispers from behind you, making you jump. you would turn around to talk to him, but he wraps his arms around you and sways your bodies from side to side as he informs you, "i got her set up with a movie. i love that girl, but i needed a break."

"thank you for giving me the morning to myself," you tell him, leaning your head back on his shoulder. you turn to place a kiss on his jaw, whispering against his skin, "you're so wonderful to me. and to violet. we're very lucky ladies."

"and i'm a lucky man," he responds. his eyes fall to the pile of violet's work on the floor, and he separates from you to pick it up. he shows you the stack and says, "got enough for my apartment and my office. there's not much left in the box, though."

"that's fine," you brush it off. "i needed the space in here, so."

"hey, did you eat this morning?" san asks while he tucks violet's work into his duffel bag. when he stands up fully he points an accusing finger at you. "i wore you out twice and you haven't eaten, that's not good for your health."

"you're not good for my health," you scoff. "last time i was this sore was after labor."

"sorry," san says sheepishly. he reaches for your hand and tugs you toward the door. "come on, let's get you some food and then hang with violet. i put on one of your favorites."

the rest of the weekend passes by in complete bliss. it's like that night with san bridged any gaps that timing and poor decisions might have created between you, and you've never felt more in love or more like a family than you do right now. but there's a pit in your stomach as you sit with san and violet at the dinner table, knowing that san needs to go back to his apartment tonight. he didn't pack any work clothes, so he really needs to leave, but he so doesn't want to. he wonders how many more weeks he can get by with going to his place just long enough for you to miss him and call him back home. meanwhile, you're wondering how you can inconspicuously get jen and wooyoung to help move san's things to your house on such short notice. san checks the time, and you feel the pit in your stomach tear open as he stands to leave.

"alright girls," he sighs, putting his dishes in the sink. "i guess i gotta go. need to get ready for the week."

"i'll miss you daddy," violet pouts, and san mimics her with a pout of his own.

"i'll miss you even more bug, you have no idea."

you stand and clear your own plate as violet sadly pushes her peas around with her fork, and you catch san staring at her from the doorway. "what's wrong, san?"

"i don't wanna go," he admits. his voice is so quiet you can barely hear him, but he can't say it any louder. it hurts leaving you two, and san isn't sure how many more trips he can take before his heart just kicks it.

"then don't go," you shrug. "move in with us."

"are you serious?" san asks, a smile slowly breaking across his face. he takes two steps and he's in front of you, hands on your waist, asking you again, "are you serious?"

"yeah," you nod. "violet? what do you say? should daddy stay here forever?"

"and ever?!" she adds, making san laugh, a happy squeaky sound that sends your heart soaring.

"i'll stay forever and ever and then some," he agrees. he pulls you into the tightest hug known to man, spinning you around the kitchen as he whispers to you, "this is finally happening."

"it took us long enough, right?" you whisper back, gripping onto his shirt. you squeal as san pushes you off balance, and you realize he's trying to move you toward the kitchen table. he lets go of you long enough to lift violet into his arms and smush her between you both, and then the spinning continues.

"my girls," he smiles proudly. "i love my girls."

that monday at work, san feels like superman. he woke up with your head on his chest, he ate breakfast with his girls, and he had a sing along in the car with violet as he drove her to school. he put works of violet art up in his office (and a couple on the gym bulletin board, she was very embarrassed), and he walked violet to her classroom before carpool started so he could tell jen the good news.

"hey violet!" jen greets her, and violet runs up to give her a hug. "how was your weekend?"

"good!" violet replies. "daddy spent the night, and then mommy told me he was staying forever and ever, and then this morning i saw mommy and daddy naked wrestling-"

"she saw you what?" jen hisses, and san has to look embarrassed.

"um, yeah, i wanted to celebrate my first morning moved in, so...we forgot to lock the door, and...yeah. it's been a long morning at the choi household," san explains, and jen pushes his arm surprisingly hard.

"so you moved in?!"

"kind of?" san rubs the spot jen basically punched. "y/n asked me to move in last night, so we filled our cars with some of my stuff and brought it to the house. i'll really move in this weekend."

"well, if you need me and wooyoung to help, you know where to find us," jen offers.

"you and wooyoung?" san wiggles his eyebrows, and jen nods eagerly.

"yep, we're an item now. you and y/n aren't the only ones who did some naked wrestling this weekend."

"please don't say that," san groans, and thankfully, the bell rings to alert teachers to their stations. san stoops down to kiss violet's forehead as he says goodbye, and he rushes off to his carpool spot. he hears jen say as he leaves, "violet, you need to knock before you go into mommy and daddy's room..."

you have to admit, living with san is bliss. you didn't know how easy it could be having someone else around to take care of violet, and you especially didn't know how nice it would be to have someone around to take care of you. san was quick to show his love with actions and words, and all he asked for in return was your time. if he had his way, he'd spend every second of every day with you and violet. it hurts to watch you leave for work in the mornings, and it hurts him again when he parts from violet at school. at home, he's always attached to one of you. some nights he's lucky, and he gets you both.

tonight, san stopped by the store for you on the way home because you needed some last minute things for dinner. san got what you needed, plus some wine he knew you'd like, and he got violet her favorite ice cream without her even asking. he had everything ready for you when you got home, and since violet helped get the ingredients she wanted to help cook, too. san always stays in the kitchen with you as you fix dinner, because he likes to clean up after you as you go. he claims it's efficient, but it's also a chance for you to catch up on your days. you're happy to have violet with you tonight, but it did ruin one of your mom secrets.

"what can i help with, mommy?" she asks once she's set up next to you, standing on her tippy toes on top of her step stool.

"you can help me tear the spinach to go into the spaghetti," you show her how to do it, and she copies your actions with a frown on her face.

"what's wrong bug?" san asks, given up on the dishes. he just wants to watch you and violet work together.

"where's the 'pinach going?"

"into the sauce, baby," you answer her. "i always put it into the sauce, it's yummy."

"do i like 'pinach?"

"you like it in spaghetti."

eating dinner together is one of san's favorite things, too. he loves the conversations that come out of violet, and he feels so privileged to see her personality growing and maturing before his eyes. she's an incredible kid, and san reminds you constantly that you did a phenomenal job raising her. you insist that his genes made her an angel to begin with, and that makes san blushy and shy enough to change the subject. he starts to ask you about a work thing, so there's no attention on violet for a moment. she starts giggling though, and when you turn back to her you see that she's slurped noodles so quickly that there's sauce all over her face. it reminds you of a similar mess when she was a baby, so you show san pictures and videos of baby vi that have his stomach doing flips. he asks you to send him those, and you do as he says while he and violet start to clear your plates.

you move into the living room to get ready for one of your favorite shows. it's coming back after a hiatus, so you made it clear this morning you didn't care what san and violet did as long as you got to watch. what you didn't expect was for san to come in from the kitchen with violet in his arms, dumping her down on top of you in a giggly pile. san leaves to grab your favorite blanket and takes his time tucking it around you and vi before he slides in next to you, intertwining his legs with yours and pulling you so your head will lay on his chest. he wraps his arms around you and violet, and sighs happily when he's all done.

"whatcha doin?" you turn your head to his as he flips through the channels, looking for your show.

"we're watching this show together?" he says like it's obvious. "violet told me there's cool stunts."

"and the old guy is funny!" she adds.

"see? cool stunts and a comedic grandpa, i'm sold," san says, kissing the top of your head as the show starts.

"ok, but no talking until the commercial breaks," you mumble, pulling san's arm further around your shoulders so you can hold his hand over your chest.

"is that the old guy?" san asks a minute later.

"baby," you whine. "i said no talking!"

"i have to go potty," violet says a few minutes after that, climbing over the pile of her parents. san watches her go then turns to you, calling your name.

"sannie, please, it's almost a commercial-"

"i want another one," he whispers excitedly, and you look confused for a second before it clicks.

"another kid?" you confirm, and he nods eagerly. "right now? i don't think we have time-"

"no baby," he chuckles. "just. whenever. but sooner rather than later, please. i want at least three, so-"

"three?!" you shriek. "that's a lot of kids for me to push out of my-"

"daddy, can i have some ice cream?" violet asks as she returns from the bathroom.

"of course baby," he responds, sliding his limbs from under and around you slowly. he comes back with violet quickly, and she plops down next to you with san on her other side. they eat in silence, which you're thankful for since your show is back on, but san calls your name and you stifle a groan. you look up to find him holding a spoonful of ice cream out for you, and you let him feed it to you with a soft look in his eyes. he wipes a dribble from the side of your mouth, presenting his finger to you. he tells you with his eyes to taste that next, and as you stare up at him and suck on his finger, you feel your skin erupt in goosebumps. you let go of his finger with a pop and then basically hide under the blanket until the show is over.

as the credits roll, you look to san and see violet curled up in his side, the empty ice cream tub long forgotten. san's carefully stroking violet's back, and when he catches you staring he reaches a hand out for you. you grab it, bringing his knuckles to your lips so you can kiss each one before speaking. against his skin, you whisper, "i'm ready to have another kid with you. but let's start with one, ok?"

agreeing to have another kid with san might have been a bad idea. if you thought he was all over you before, now he really can’t keep his hands off you. it's a sisyphean task getting him out of bed in the morning. he grabs onto whenever you pass each other in the house, stealing kisses that he hopes will lead to more. he's rushing through bedtimes with violet so you can have more "mommy daddy time" in violet's words. it's so bad even your kid has noticed! but....you're not complaining. you pretend to hate it, you pretend to resist just to give in later, but really you're eating this up. a match made in heaven, you two!

after a particularly active morning, you decided to work from home for the day. you were feeling under the weather anyway, so it was nice having the option. especially on days like today when san forgets his lunch. he called you about an hour into his day in a panic, already whining that he was going to starve to death. you roll your eyes but listen intently before offering to bring it to him. halfway through the call you found his lunchbox looking lonely in the fridge, so you were happy to spend your lunch break doing something for san. before you head out, you tear off a paper towel and write him a little note like you do when you pack violet's lunch, and then you're out the door.

san said he would be in his office, so you park in the teacher lot and make the short walk to the gym. it's its own building behind the school, so it's quiet as you make your way to san. your footsteps echo on the wooden floor, and an eager san slides out of his office in his desk chair. like an excited puppy, he jogs to meet you halfway and wraps you in a hug, peppering kisses over your face along with whispered thanks.

"what would i do without you, baby?" he asks.

"starve, apparently," you tease, pinching his cheek. "so i guess i'll see you at home?"

"eat lunch with me," he begs, not giving you a chance to answer. he takes the lunchbox in one hand and wraps his other around your waist, leading you to his office. he sits in the rolling chair and walks it back over to his desk while you stand at the door. "you waitin for an invite, doll? get in here."

"where do i sit?" you ask, semi-distracted by the way san has decorated his office. your heart warms seeing so much of violet's work in here, and you blush as you notice the pictures san has printed of you and violet to tack up along with her art. san hasn't replied, so you turn to find him patting his lap with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and you just laugh at him. "i'll stand."

"at least stand closer to me," he whines. "so far away over there."

you sigh, but walk to his desk anyway. you hop up so you're sitting on the one space free of junk, but that puts you directly in front of san. he opens your legs slightly, and you feel your heart rate spike, but he just scoots closer and starts unpacking his lunch. you watch as he focuses on tearing his sandwich equally, his tongue caught between his teeth as he works. you take this time to snatch his chips, feeding one or two to san as he searches for a napkin to wrap your sandwich in. he finds the note you stuffed in there and smiles, a blush creeping over his cheeks as his dimples appear.

"what's this?" he asks in a squeaky voice.

"reminder of how much i love you," you shrug.

"i love you too," san says happily as he straightens the napkin. "thanks for bringing my lunch."

"you said that already."

"well let me thank you another way?" he asks, his hands drifting to your knees and sliding up your thighs. you try to close your legs, pushing him off, but his grip is stronger than yours.

"san, there's kids here."

"so? we're trying to make one-"

"sannie!" you hiss. "no! not at school."

"but no one's gonna be anywhere near the gym for another thirty minutes!"

"what about wooyoung? or jen? don't they come check on you when you don't eat lunch in the teacher's lounge?"

"they can deal," san says, leaning down to trail kisses up your leg. as much as you want to, and god you want to, you can't. not here. so you use your foot to catch the rolling chair and push san back. he thuds into his bulletin board with an "oof!" and you laugh as you hop down. "what are you doing? come back here-"

"ah, i'll see you at home," you tell him. you're almost to the door when he catches up with you, holding onto your waist like his life depends on it.

"just one kiss before you go," he whispers, and you feel yourself nodding before you can say no. he captures your lips in a fierce kiss, moaning as he slides his hands around to grip your ass, but you grab his hands and pull them off of you. you give him one last kiss and then you step back, pointing a finger at him as you say, "you are trouble, mr. choi."

"and you're sexy, mrs. choi," he smirks, watching you leave.

"not your missus!" you shout back, turning to catch him still watching you walk away. he waves teasingly, blowing a kiss that you catch and place over your heart. "i'll see you at home, you crazy man."

san tried using the rest of his lunch to plan, but you were right - jen and wooyoung came to find him before lunch ended, so it's really a good thing you didn't take up his offer to fuck in his office. wooyoung makes himself at home, playing with some of the loose equipment as jen asks why san didn't show for lunch.

"i forgot my lunch, so y/n had to bring it to me," he explains, and wooyoung gasps.

"you had sex in here!" he shouts, pointing an accusing finger at san.

"no, we didn't," san sighs. "but i wanted to."

"y/n said no?" jen asks, and san nods. "of course she was the voice of reason."

"what do you both want?" san asks. "shouldn't you be with your classes right now?"

"there's an assembly after lunch, so they're the vp's responsibility," wooyoung smiles evilly. "so you didn't even get some head while y/n was here?"

"wooyoung!" jen shrieks, and he shuts up. "sorry he's disgusting."

"i'm more sorry for you, you're dating the guy," san teases, and jen blushes. "so you both came here to bother me? no other reason?"

"i suspected you had a visit from the milf, so i came to get the low down on that," wooyoung replies.

"and if y/n was here i wanted to talk to her," jen says. "i need to have one conversation with someone sane today."

"you're talking to me!" san says, and jen laughs. "ouch."

"whatever man," wooyoung says as he walks toward the door. "if you're gonna lie and say nothing happened here, then i'm outie 5000."

"actually, i do want to tell you something," san starts nervously. "it's nothing saucy, but i think i need your help. both of you."

"anything," jen says, and wooyoung nods in agreement.

"great," san smiles. "well, uh, i think i'm going to propose to y/n..."

there's a daddy daughter dance at the end of the week. san, of course, will be taking violet. that means you need to go shopping! violet needs a new dress, and san has to buy a shirt that matches. violet chose a light purple, her favorite, and insisted on you getting something that color, too. since you were just spending the night at home, you tried to buy a light purple pajama set, but san vetoed it. he made you pick out a dress of your own despite you saying you won't wear it but for five minutes.

"but now we have a family outfit," san smiles. "we can wear it all the time."

"violet, your dad is embarrassing," you say to your daughter, and she nods.

"whatever," he sighs, taking the clothes from you and violet anyway. "i'm just excited to do family stuff with you."

"is family stuff like mommy daddy stuff?" violet asks, and you let san handle that one. you've stopped at the jewelry section, wondering if you can find a necklace for violet to wear. you play with the charm around your neck now, the heart necklace violet gave you. as you're spinning the display around, you hear two sets of footsteps come up behind you.

"whatcha doin mommy?" violet asks, tugging on your hand. you pick her up and point to one of the necklaces, answering, "trying to find something that matches your new dress. do you like this?"

"ooo, yes," she nods at the flower charm you're showing her. "can daddy have one too?"

"not sure that's my style, bug," san squints at the necklace.

"and it's a kid size, it wouldn't fit around your beefy neck," you point out. you look around and your eyes light up as they fall on what you're looking for. you grab violet's necklace and head to a display of rings, holding the necklace up to find something that goes with it. "daddy can wear a ring to match with you at the dance. how's that sound vi?"

you get an enthusiastic yes from her, so the three of you look quietly for a moment. san holds something up and asks what you think, but you shake your head.

"that's too dainty for you," you say.

"for you," san corrects. "do you like it for you?"

"hmm," you inspect the ring, and shake your head. "no, i think i prefer gold jewelry."

"what about this?" san holds up another ring, and you like this one. it's a simple gold band with a purple gem set on a raised back, but you nod and offer san your left hand since violet is currently occupying your other arm. san slides the ring onto your ring finger, but it won't get past your knuckle. san tries his best, but it won't budge, and you can't help but laugh. "hmph. you have chubby fingers."

"hey!" you whine, "that's what having a kid does to you. parts of your body are never the same again."

"really?" san asks. "i never knew that."

"yeah, there's a lot of weird stuff that happens with pregnancy," you shrug. "but i got used to it."

"you'll have to tell me everything soon," san says, cupping your head to pull you in for a forehead kiss. he's distracted now, thinking about something else, and starts to turn back in the direction of the registers when violet reminds him, "daddy! the rings!"

"oh right, thanks bug," he winks at her, and you kiss violet's cheek in thanks. san finds a bigger size and tries it for good measure. it's a perfect fit.

"do you still want a ring?" you ask san, and he searches for a moment before holding one out to you.

"what about this?" he passes it to you, and you cock your head in confusion. "what? you don't like it?"

"hm, i like it," you tell him. "it goes with mine."

"even better," san smiles.

the night of the dance can't get here soon enough. violet has been bouncing off the walls excited for it all week, and you know san is looking forward to it too. he told you that he gets stuck overseeing the dance every year because it's in the gym, and he admitted this was the kind of thing he dreamt of taking his own kid to some day. he seems a little nervous though, which you think is sweet.

because he had to plan the dance, the week leading up to it is a busy one at your house. san is constantly stepping outside to take calls, and he's running off to errands throughout the week to make sure everything is perfect. he's taken over the coat closet, claiming there's things in there violet can't see, but he won't let you look in there, either. one afternoon, he catches you peeking and turns a bright red.

"what are you doing!" he squeaks. "you can't see this!"

"why not?" you laugh. "i'm not going to the dance."

"yeah, but if you see it, and then violet asks what you saw, you'll tell her-"

"i'm not a snitch," you scoff.

"well you're usually on her side," san rolls his eyes.

"hey, i'm on your side all the time, babe," you assure him. "but girls gotta stick together, so i guess you have a point."

"exactly," san sighs, checking that the closet is closed before pulling you in for a hug. he inhales deeply and lets out a breath of relief once you're wrapped around him, and you rub his back soothingly.

"you're doing a great job, my love," you tell him. "it's gonna be a great night, everyone will have so much fun, and it'll be all thanks to you."

"i hope you're right," san says, and he hopes you don't catch the quiver of nerves in his voice. he also hopes you can't feel the box of the engagement ring poking out of his pocket. you caught him before he could slip it into the closet, and he's starting to sweat having you so close to it. even though he doesn't want to, he slowly lets you go, stroking your hair as he gets an idea, "hey, can i ask you to do something for me?"

"anything."

"anything?" he smirks, and you smack his arm. "no, i was wondering if you could make pancakes for dinner?"

"really? that's it?" you ask, but he nods like he's completely serious.

"i hear you're better at them now," he teases. "but, i don't know, i've just been so stressed this week, and that's like a comfort meal for me-"

"oh sannie, yes, yes i'll make you pancakes," you promise. "you want chocolate chips?"

"i love you," he says as he nods vehemently. you giggle as you stand on your toes to kiss his cheek.

"dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes then," you tell him. "unless i burn the house down, then we're just going to waffle house."

it's the night of the dance. to anyone walking by, it might sound like your house is having a party, but it's just you blaring music while everyone gets ready. you're already in your dress, so you're helping violet while san showers. he was so jumpy when he got home, you're really worried about him. this dance must have been a lot of work for him, so you're glad he'll get to rest when it's done. once san and violet leave, you've got a riveting night of laundry ahead of you so san can come home to a clean, comfy bed to collapse in. you know he'll need it after the week he's had.

you're mentally trying to organize the loads of laundry you have to do while you work on violet's hair. she's digging through your make up bag because you promised she could use eye shadow and lip gloss tonight, and you're both humming along to the music. you don't hear her stop and say something to you, and you certainly don't hear whoever is knocking at the door. violet twists around to look at you, ruining the heart shape you were trying to pull her hair into.

"aw, vi, now i have to start over-"

"mommy, someone's knocking on the door," she cuts you off. you reach for your phone to turn the music down, and she's right, there's someone frantically knocking at the front door. you walk out warily, unsure of who it could be, but you spot a flash of jen's hair through the window. when you open the door, she looks relieved.

"good, you're dressed," she breathes out. upon further inspection, she frowns and says, "but you haven't done your hair? no make up? y/n we're gonna be late."

"what?" you're confused. late for what?

"san didn't tell you? we need you to chaperone the dance," jen explains as she steps inside. that's when you notice she's dressed up too. "one of the fifth grade teachers was supposed to help me with the photo booth, but she's puking everywhere-"

"ew, gross," you stop her. "i mean, san didn't tell me anything, but i guess i can help? i'm not doing anything tonight." looks like you needed this dress after all!

"great," jen smiles. "now about your hair..."

seconds later, violet is standing in front of you while you sit on a kitchen chair as jen works on your hair for you. you're still trying to finish violet's, and then you need to help her with the make up she picked out. you could care less how you look, you'd rather violet get the pampering she wants, but jen is insisting that you "at least need to look put together tonight."

"hey, is san still here?" you ask suddenly. "i don't hear the shower anymore, but he's being awfully quiet if he's home."

"his car wasn't here when i pulled up," jen shrugs. "ok, hair's done! now where's your make up?"

"in violet's room," you reply. she goes to grab it, and when she returns you're done with violet's hair. "how's our girl look?"

"just as beautiful as her momma," jen replies, and she laughs when you and violet blush the same way.

"careful, i'm a taken woman," you warn.

"i could totally take san in a fight for your hand."

"wooyoung would be pretty upset though," you remind her, and now it's her turn to blush. "is he gonna be there tonight?"

"yeah, he's helping san with some of the set up i think."

"so what time do we need to get there?" you ask as you work on vi's make up. "keep your eyes closed, baby."

"ok mommy."

"um, we might need to leave soon," jen barely answers your question.

"that's vague."

"we should leave in fifteen minutes."

"shit, ok," you mumble, then you catch yourself. "jen, can you find my purse? put a quarter in the jar on the counter please."

"two," violet corrects you. "you said the fuck word when the elastic in my hair snapped."

"violet!" you and jen screech.

"now you need to put a quarter in the swear jar," jen jokes, but you have to lecture violet on not using those words while you finish up her eye shadow. you ask her to purse her lips so you can do the lip gloss, and jen says, "she really looks like san, doesn't she?"

"yeah, she does," you smile proudly. "they're both pretty cute, huh?"

"if you have another kid do you think it'll look like you?"

"we'll have to wait and see i guess," you say as you cap the lip gloss. "vi, go like this," and you show her how to rub the lip gloss in. she gets it all over her lips, so you lick your thumb to wipe it off as she tries to squirm away. "alright, my turn. can you show jen where your shoes are baby? i'll finish getting ready if you can help her with shoes and maybe a jacket."

"on it," jen nods. "we gotta leave in ten!"

as promised, ten minutes later, you and violet are in jen's car. you wanted the fun to continue for violet, so you've got music playing as jen speeds toward the school. she kept saying you weren't late, but the way she's driving you wonder if she's lying.

a few minutes later, you can see the school in the distance. you don't know why, but your stomach starts doing flips at the idea of seeing san. you know he's going to look great, so that's enough to make you all excited, but you're more interested in seeing what he's worked so hard on all week. you're staring at the gym as it gets closer, and then jen drives right past the school entirely.

"um, hello?" you call out. "earth to jen? we just passed the school."

"we're not going to the school," jen says simply. what's going on? you look to violet in the backseat, but she's staring out the window, kicking her feet the way you know she does when she's excited. you sit back with a "humph!" and watch as jen drives you to the park down the street. she pulls into the gravel lot and turns off her car before turning to you. "get out."

"what? jen, what is going on?" you ask, but jen is out of the car and won't respond. you're confused as hell, but you unbuckle your seatbelt anyway as jen gets violet out of her car seat. jen meets you at the back of her car, pointing off to the path in the distance.

"you need to go over there."

"i'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's happening," you stand firm.

"come on mommy!" violet chirps. she holds her tiny hand out to you, and you look to jen. she just smiles, so you take violet's hand and walk with her to the wooded path.

"baby, where are we going?" you ask, but violet shakes her head and mimes zipping her lips. can't argue with that, so you succumb to the circumstances and follow her lead. you're looking around, trying to catch any kind of clue. as you come over a hill, you see a clearing in the distance, and you gasp when you see what's waiting for you.

underneath an ivy covered arch stands san. he's dressed in his outfit for the dance, dark grey slacks and a vest with the light purple shirt underneath. he left his hair natural, how you like it, so the ends of his bangs just barely brush over his glittering eyes. he's smiling at you so brightly he could be the sun, and you look down to find violet smiling back at him the same way.

as you get closer, you notice the flower bushes are all violets. san must have brought more though, because there's flower pots and bouquets all around. you close your eyes and take a deep breath, admiring the soft scent flooding your senses. when you open your eyes, san is approaching you shyly, and violet squeezes your hand. you squeeze back even tighter.

"hi gorgeous," he greets you, his voice soft and quiet, like he doesn't want to disturb this moment. he leans in to kiss your cheek, then kneels and says to violet, "you look beautiful, my love. thank you for your help."

"you knew about this?" you ask violet, and she looks to san before she responds.

"YES! daddy told me all these secrets and said mommy can't know, and if i pinky promised not to tell then he would get me the princess bed i want," she explains rapidly, and you look to a sheepish san.

"i'm not proud of the bribe, but she did a good job. you had no idea?"

"san, what is this?" you ask in a nervous whisper. he lifts violet into his arms and then offers you a hand. as he walks you over to a bench beneath the ivy arch, he begins.

"this was my favorite park as a kid," he says as he sits you down and carefully places violet between you. he holds onto your hand as he speaks, his thumb stroking over your knuckles softly. "and when i moved back here after college, this was the first place i came. i missed you so much already, and i needed someplace to clear my head. i found myself here a lot, actually. i would walk the entire path just thinking about you, wondering how you were, wondering if i should reach out, try to make things right. it became a habit. i'd come here every time i missed you, and i wouldn't leave until i got you off my mind. then, out of nowhere, you show up at school. i noticed you, that first day. i noticed violet," and as he says her name he boops her nose. over her giggles, he continues.

"i saw her walking in and thought, man, that kid sure looks like me," san smiles sadly, and you squeeze his hand. "so as soon as school ended, i was over here, pacing and wondering again how i could reach out. then i caught you parking in the wrong spot-"

"i didn't know where else to go!" you defend yourself, and san chuckles.

"you not knowing where to go worked in my favor, because it was like someone shouting in my face, hey! here she is! don't lose this chance! so i knew i had to wiggle my way back into your life somehow. it wasn't until you mentioned violet, her name, that i felt something inside me. again, i came back here, to this spot, and thought about what to do. as i sat here, i noticed all the violets around me, and i knew. i've always thought we were meant to be together, but that day i knew for sure. i wanted to be in your life. in violet's life. forever."

"and ever," violet whispers, making you and san both laugh. as you quiet down, you stare at san, and that warm feeling you get in his presence rushes over you. finally, you think. finally finally finally.

it's like san can read your mind, because he nods before tugging you back up to your feet. violet holds onto your hand as you both watch san reach into his pocket, and even though you knew it was coming, it still takes your breath away. san kneels, holding out a velvet box. he takes a deep breath and says, "y/n. my love. my best friend. you're the love of my life, and i can't imagine our story ending any other way. will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? will you marry me, finally?" he opens the box to reveal the perfect ring, and you're nodding before you can even speak.

you look at san's glistening eyes, his happy smile, and you cry out, "yes, san, oh my god, yes, i'll marry you." san pulls you down to smash his lips into yours, but you can barely keep the smile off your face long enough to actually feel his lips against yours. you end up kneeling in front of san, wrapping him in the tightest hug as you start to cry. you feel violet's tiny arms working their way around you both, so you separate and cover her in kisses to her delighted giggles. you hug them both, holding onto your family so tight it almost hurts.

"wait, wait!" san cries out. "the ring! gimme your hand!"

you present your left hand to him as he takes the ring out, and you love the way it glitters in the setting sunlight. he slides it onto your ring finger, interlocking his hand with yours. as you admire your hand in his, you hear cheers off in the distance.

you look around to find jen and wooyoung just outside the clearing. wooyoung is holding a camera, and jen is smiling like she just pulled off the heist of the century. as they get closer, violet runs over to jen and they jump and squeal, something about secrets and another bribe you'll have to learn about later.

"so everyone knew about this but me?" you ask san, and he brushes hair behind your ear as jen and wooyoung join you.

"sorry, but that's the way it had to be," san shrugs.

"you were so surprised," wooyoung says, "i can't wait to edit these pictures, i think i got a really funny one of you when he pulled the ring out."

"i'll make sure he only keeps the good ones," jen cuts in, but you shake your head.

"you send me every single picture you took," you say sternly, and wooyoung salutes you as he says, "aye aye mrs. choi!"

"oh my god," you turn to san then. "i'm gonna be your wife."

"yeah you are," he smiles proudly. "'bout time."

"oh, what time is it?" you ask. "don't we need to go to the dance?"

"baby, there is no dance," san admits. "i made that up so you wouldn't be suspicious of all the calls and errands without you."

"you sneak," you slap his arm. "and involving our daughter!"

"we got you," violet giggles, looking up at you as she wraps her hands around your legs. you pinch her nose and she squeals.

"well, what do we do now?" you ask. "i don't know what engaged people do."

"i've got an idea," wooyoung says suggestively, and jen groans.

"actually, i was going to take us to dinner," san says, reaching for you and violet. "we need to celebrate!"

"that's our cue to leave," jen says to wooyoung, but san stops them.

"nope," he shakes his head. "you helped. i owe you dinner."

"well if you insist," wooyoung smiles, wrapping his arm around jen. you all start walking back to your cars, jen and wooyoung ahead of your family. you and san are walking with violet between you, hands swinging happily.

"hey," san whispers, and you find his handsome face smiling at you. "are you happy?"

"happier than i've ever been, san."

"good," he nods. "sorry for all the secrets, though."

"whatever," you brush it off. "but, uh, i guess i have a secret of my own to share?"

san stops in his tracks, worry in his eyes. jen and wooyoung stop too, hearing the lack of footsteps behind them. everyone is watching you, and you look at each of them with a growing smile on your face. you end with san, and you blush as you say, "my love, my husband to be, i'm pregnant."

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