#First short week since... October? Maybe?
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cxpperhead · 1 year ago
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Off topic but when I'm writing those caring for a child prompts, this is the picture that's always at the back of my mind.
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whoevenisjavier · 2 months ago
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a prize i’d cheat to win
pairing: CEO harry castillo x exec. assistant f! reader
summary: you fuck your married boss during a late night at the office.
part 2 here
a/n: so… this is like… heavy cheating stuff. if that’s not your thing, then best to stop now
tags/warning: +18, mdni. harry castillo is 48, reader is 25. age gap. cheating. f!reader. partners dissing. oral sex (f! and m! receiving). unprotected piv. creampie.
w/c: 9k
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Harry Castillo takes many things in life very seriously.
That’s an essential trait when you're sitting in the executive chair of one of the largest construction companies in the United States: being sharp, meticulous, and systematic is as mandatory as a contractual clause imposing penalties for breach.
But there are two things Harry is even more serious and methodical about.
The first: every single one of Harry’s suits is custom-made by the son of the same tailor who once dressed his father and grandfather. Even if a ready-to-wear suit fits him perfectly, it must go to the tailor, even if it’s just to add a single stitch to the inside pocket.
The second: his wife must receive a gift on every single occasion that concerns her or their relationship.
You keep a calendar on your computer solely for this purpose. Her birthday on June 17th, their first kiss anniversary, the day he asked her out, their official anniversary, the day he proposed, their wedding anniversary, Dalilah the Poodle’s birthday.
Yes, there's even an anniversary for the first time they slept together, on September 19th.
And on all these dates, a gift must be sent to her, signed from Harry. If not, she’ll make his life a living hell, and he’ll spiral into one of those gloomy funks for at least three days: always polite, but with short answers and a stone-cold expression. And you hate seeing him like that.
Despite your color-coded calendars and hyper-organized schedule, it did happen once, but only because you didn’t know there was an anniversary for the first time Harry said “I love you,” which didn’t happen until February 15th, 2020, even though he proposed back on October 28th, 2019. Ever since, you make sure that expensive gifts are sent either to their apartment or to her law office.
Today is the anniversary of their first fight, and you're at your desk choosing between a bouquet from The Bouqs Co. and a pair of sapphire Spinelli earrings. Or maybe both?
The elevator doors open and Harry steps out, immaculately dressed in a navy suit you bought last week. He's on the phone and looks stressed. You raise your hand to greet him, and the tension in his face softens into a small smile, which is his version of “good morning.”
He walks past you into his office, leaving the door open, which means he’ll be back in a moment to give you a proper hello.
Harry Castillo’s office is on the top floor of the Castillo Construction & Co. headquarters. Behind your desk, the company’s initials — CCC — are elegantly embossed in gold on the wall. The reception décor is all rich, dark wood — on the wall panels, desks, and on the frames of the chairs in the waiting area. Gold details on the picture frames, doorknobs, and desk edges offer a refined contrast.
It’s beautiful, but a bit dull, so last year, you convinced him to add two dragon trees near the elevator. They gave the space a touch of life, even if he insisted he didn’t like plants in the office.
In the end, he liked it. You know he did.
Being Harry’s executive assistant for the past four years, since you were a twenty-one-year-old fresh out of college, means you sometimes read him better than you read yourself. Your therapist says that’s not healthy, but you like knowing his routine, especially because you’re the one who plans it. You like being his emergency contact, having access to his passwords and bank accounts, being his legal proxy with signing authority.
So, personally, you think your therapist is mistaken.
Ten minutes later, as you confirm your choice of the Spinelli earrings with Harry’s personal shopper, your boss reemerges from his office.
He’s taken off the blazer, and his white shirt sleeves are rolled up, revealing his expensive watch and strong forearms.
“Good morning,” he says with a small smile, leaning casually against your desk. “Did you have a good weekend?”
And here comes the inevitable truth: you are terribly attracted to Harry, which cannot be healthy. Having feelings for your boss, who gives you tasks and commands, kills any remaining instinct for self-preservation.
But God, how could you not? Everything about him pulls you in. The physical traits, the personality, the mind. His strong arms, neatly trimmed beard and mustache, kind brown eyes, tailored clothes, manners, scent, intelligence.
Just the other day, Harry mentally calculated the average profit margin Castillo & Co. made over a five-year period because the financial report hadn’t included it, and then estimated the net return percentage; all in his head. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen.
You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve thought of him while with your boyfriend, fully aware of how wrong that is.
“Good morning, Harry.” That’s another privilege: calling him by his first name, while everyone else calls him Mr. Castillo. “I finished watching Russian Doll on Saturday.”
“Yeah? Did you like it?”
You nod, excited.
“Yes, it’s great. You have to finish it.”
Harry gives a quiet grunt.
“I know… But I get home and just crash,” he says, clearly disappointed with himself. You offer an empathetic smile. “I’ll try harder,” he adds, before shifting topics. “I have a meeting at eleven. Can you come with me?”
“Just a moment.”
You open your planner while Harry watches, and you try your best to focus on the color-coded blocks. You have a meeting with the finance team to review some items for Harry, but you can reschedule.
“I can go.”
“Thank God. I’ll need your notes.”
You tap your fingers against your forehead in a playful salute, and Harry smiles before turning to head back to his office. But before he does, he says:
“I like the outfit. Gray is my favorite color.”
He’s referring to your gray pencil skirt and matching halter-style silk blouse.
“Thank you. And I know.”
He smiles, taps his fingers lightly on your desk again, and heads back inside.
And now you can’t focus on anything else on your morning agenda.
The eleven o’clock meeting is at the headquarters of a partner company just a few minutes from Castillo & Co.’s office. Already in the building’s lobby, Harry walks calmly beside you as you head toward the elevator. You’re carrying the leather folder with your iPad and a notepad for Harry, who insists on handwritten notes.
“Did you see how many plants are in the lobby?” you ask as you both stop in front of the elevator, side by side. His security guard stands just behind you, discreet but alert.
“Don’t start,” Harry replies without taking his eyes off the elevator doors. It’s always curious how his expression changes when you’re in public. “You already put two plants on our floor.”
You find it incredibly endearing when he says “our floor.”
“It’s not enough. I’m still planning to sneak one into your office.”
The elevator doors slide open and you both step in. Harry presses the button for the twentieth floor, and you lean against the glass wall at the back of the elevator as he leans in to whisper:
“And then you’ll swing by HR to pick up your termination letter.”
By the time you reach the twentieth floor, where the meeting will take place, there’s still a slight smirk tugging at your lips.
The receptionist at the main desk takes one look at Harry and immediately stands, adopting a posture you’ve come to recognize as reserved only for partners and high-level associates. You yourself soften your voice and demeanor as part of this same executive persona.
You and Harry are led down a long, white hallway with the sterile atmosphere of a hospital (which you hate) until you reach the meeting room. Harry lets you enter first, his hand resting lightly at the small of your back to guide you in.
Inside the glass-walled boardroom, seated at an oval table, are five men and two women. All eyes turn to you, but quickly shift to Harry as he enters the room, already unbuttoning his jacket.
“Please, don’t get up,” Harry says right away, raising his hand palm-out as if to stop them from standing to greet him. Harry hates shaking hands with that many people. “Don’t mind me,” he adds, scanning the room for a free chair. Only one is available. “We’ll need one more chair. I brought my vice president with me.”
Harry is ridiculous. He always introduces you as his “vice president” in meetings like this because, for some reason, if he says “assistant,” the respect people show you is just surface-level, barely polite enough to keep Harry from getting angry. Bunch of assholes.
Someone quickly slips out to fetch an extra chair, but in the meantime, Harry’s hand returns to the small of your back, guiding you to the only available seat at the head of the table, all eyes in the room following the two of you.
Realizing what he’s doing, you whisper:
“Harry, I’m not—”
“Sit,” he cuts you off with just one word, and it leaves no room for argument.
You obey, sitting in the only chair, while Harry stands behind you. With no other option, you slide into your businesswoman persona, straighten your spine, lace your fingers on the table, and meet the stares of the executives around you.
Moments later, someone wheels in another chair for Harry, placing it beside you.
The room falls silent until Harry, now seated and relaxed, says simply:
“So?”
And the show begins.
The goal of the meeting is to convince Harry to invest in the revitalization of a hotel in Madrid, Spain, currently owned by a chain undergoing judicial reorganization. Their last hope is to reopen the hotel, which has been closed for the past ten years, and Harry’s investment would signal a vote of confidence, seen as there’s no guarantee of return for Castillo & Co.
The chain’s administrator, a short man in a tight suit, is in the middle of a PowerPoint presentation showing 3D renderings of the hotel lobby, complete with bronze detailing, when Harry lets out a dramatic sigh and raises his hand.
The man immediately falls silent.
“It’s a good presentation,” Harry says, and you pause your note-taking on the iPad. “But this isn’t what I came to see. Honestly, I’m not the one you should be showing pictures of architecture and interior design to.”
The silence is so tense you could hear a pin drop.
“So far, not a single reason has been presented to me that justifies why CCC should invest in the Madrid hotel,” Harry continues. “Has no one conducted a financial risk analysis? Or at the very least, looked at the average returns of similar hotel chains in the same area?”
“Mr. Castillo…”
“With all due respect, Mr. Edwards,” Harry cuts in again, “my question is simple: was such a study conducted?”
The administrator opens his mouth, likely to offer another flimsy excuse, but this time, one of the women at the table responds:
“Mr. Castillo, we will immediately arrange for a study addressing those questions.”
“You’re asking for more time?” Harry asks, his voice calm, not the slightest hint of aggression, yet somehow that calm makes it even more intimidating.
The woman, to her credit, is brave enough to admit:
“Yes, we are.”
You glance at Harry. He’s tapping his pen against the leather folder he hasn’t even opened. When he stops, it’s to let out a small sigh, as if being in that room is as irritating as a speck of dust in his eye.
“I started construction on a multi-business complex in Madrid last year, and had the bad luck of launching the first month of works right when construction costs in Spain hit a historic record. 117.6 points on the Eurostat index,” he sets the pen down and laces his fingers together, commanding the entire room with nothing but words. “Even with that spike, the real estate market in Madrid is growing,” he glances your way and says, “Miss?”
Of course you remember. You were the one who researched it.
“Seventeen-point-five percent increase last year alone, with a forecast of another four to five percent this year,” you say.
A flicker of pride crosses Harry’s face — but he stays impassive.
“Seventeen-point-five percent,” he repeats, whistling softly in admiration before turning his gaze back to the group. “That’s a lot. Could that offset the budget blowout we’ll likely face by the end of construction in three years? What I do know is that my contract with the buyers of the complex units includes ongoing monitoring of economic indicators and adjustment clauses, because the project team, who are very competent, accounted for all of that. And I only work with competent people.”
More silence.
Harry concludes:
“I expect a study of that level within one month. If you’re not able to deliver that, I kindly ask that you refrain from sending me any more investment proposals.”
Harry stands, and just like that, the meeting is over.
It’s past 7 p.m. when Harry steps out of his office and walks toward your desk.
Under the desk, you’ve already kicked off your heels, and your stocking-covered feet rest softly on the carpet. Your hair is tied up in a bun that probably looks tragic by now, but the kind smile Harry sends your way isn’t one of someone looking at a disaster.
Then again, his hair looks a little tousled too, like he’s run his fingers through it more times than he should’ve.
“What are you still doing here?” he asks, leaning on your desk. He sounds nothing like the man who tore through a room full of clowns earlier in the day.
“I need to go over the spreadsheet the finance team sent me.”
“They sent it late?”
“No. I’m reviewing it late,” you admit, lowering your voice to a whisper and leaning in like you’re telling him a secret. “But don’t tell my boss or he’ll fire me.”
Harry plays along, whispering back:
“A corporate scandal.”
The grin you flash him is ridiculous, and so is the flush that warms your cheeks.
“Still got a lot to do?” Harry asks. You nod regretfully. “Have you eaten?”
You shake your head.
“Alright. I’ll order dinner for both of us. The usual?”
The usual means the Lasagna della Mama Rosa from Piccola that he always gets on late nights like this.
“The usual. Thanks, Harry.”
He ignores your thanks, as always, and heads back to his office. Halfway there, still facing away from you, he asks:
“Want a ribeye? I’m about to beg for one.”
“Rare.”
You can practically hear him rolling his eyes.
“Obviously.”
Thirty minutes later, you go downstairs to pick up the food, paying with Harry’s card. When you return, you head straight into his office.
Harry is at his desk, eyes fixed on the screen. His tablet shows a few graphs, and beside it, his phone is on speaker. He’s talking to his wife, and you pretend not to hear as you walk to the lounge area in the corner of his office, where there’s a leather couch and a coffee table big enough to fit all the food he ordered.
You slip off your shoes before stepping onto the rug and kneel to unpack the takeout bags on the table.
“...because I told her we’d both go with them,” his wife says over the phone, sounding upset. “I can’t back out now.”
“The problem is that you confirmed without even asking me.”
“I thought, as your wife, I could make one tiny decision for the both of us.”
Your brows lift.
“That’s not the point,” Harry says, calm but clearly tired. “The point is you planned a two-week trip out of the country without consulting me. I can’t reschedule twenty meetings or delay fifty different deadlines tied to the 72 active builds I’m overseeing.”
You walk over to the minibar in the corner and grab two sparkling waters and a couple of glasses.
She fires back:
“You could at least try to spend more time with me.”
“You’re being irrational.”
“You drive me crazy!” she yells. “Always with your robotic tone, your charts, your stats. For God’s sake, can’t you be spontaneous for once in your life, Harry?”
You turn to Harry and start to gesture that you’ll leave him alone, but Harry points directly at the lounge area, more specifically, at the table, silently instructing you to go back and stay there.
“You knew who I was when you met me,” he says into the phone, still looking at you. “And I’m not saying that as an excuse for never changing. I’m saying that you need to think about my work before making impulsive decisions.”
She hangs up on him.
You quietly return to the seating area and sit down on the rug, feeling a bit awkward. Seconds later, Harry joins you, settling on the opposite side of the table.
“Smells good,” he says as if he hadn’t just been in a fight.
“Mhm,” you hum, staring at the lasagna in front of you. The smell of melted cheese makes your stomach grumble, but before picking up your fork, you murmur, “I should’ve asked if I could come in. Sorry for overhearing.”
Harry hands you the container with your steak and opens a bottle of water, pouring it into both glasses.
“You know the passwords to my cards and accounts, the backup clouds for the entire Castillo company. My life’s in your hands. It’s not like I have anything to hide from you.”
It’s so satisfying to hear that. Your therapist is going to have a field day.
“You don’t, but maybe your wife wouldn’t love sharing her privacy with your assistant,” you say, mostly because it’s the right thing to say — not because you believe it.
He shuts that down quickly.
“What about your boyfriend?”
“What about him?”
Harry looks up as he takes a bite of lasagna. You pick up your utensils too.
“Is he okay sharing you with me?”
Your hands freeze mid-motion.
“He…” your voice cracks, so you try again. “He knows how much I value my work.”
“Of course.”
The steak is perfectly cooked, tender and rare. To escape the sudden tension, you put on a little show, leaning back dramatically on the plush Nina Magon rug as you chew a piece of meat.
“This is the best steak in the world,” you mumble with your eyes closed. “I’d work overtime every day if this was the reward.”
Harry lets out a low, amused laugh.
“That good, huh? You’d give up sleep for it?”
You hold up a thumbs-up. His laugh grows.
“You should come in later tomorrow,” he says as you sit back up. “That’s me speaking as your boss.”
“I have an eight a.m. meeting.”
“With who?”
“The marketing team.” You already regret it just thinking about it. “Your personal branding, actually. Someone from Forbes wants another interview.”
“Again?”
“Yes, Mr. Castillo. Again. That’s what happens when you’re running one of the world’s top construction firms at forty-eight.”
“Good line. You should pitch that as the interview opener.”
“I will.”
You eat in silence for a while. You take a moment to admire the New York skyline through the huge windows behind Harry’s desk. He likes to keep the lights dim when working late, and the atmosphere feels perfect. The basil lingering in the ragu, the scent of grilled meat, the view of the sprawling city.
Harry sitting across from you. The two of you sharing dinner, like so many times before, and for a moment, it feels like this could be your actual life.
“I can take care of things if you want to go on that trip,” you say, because apparently, your brain-to-mouth filter breaks down when you’re full.
“I know you can.”
“Why not take a vacation?”
“Because I don’t want to,” he says, and you don’t flinch. You’re used to those answers. “I don’t want to travel with the people involved. She knows that. And I have responsibilities.”
“Got it,” you say, leaning back on one hand. Harry watches you. You notice his rolled-up sleeves, the open collar of his shirt, and decide to confess: “I really get it. My boyfriend wants us to go to Bora Bora at the end of the year with two other couples. I can’t stand them.”
“Really? Why?”
“They go to bed at eight. Their idea of being ‘naughty’ is drinking one glass of wine with dinner. Can you imagine that in Bora Bora?”
“Definitely not. Waste of money.”
You snap your fingers and point at him.
“Exactly what I said!”
“You’d like Bora Bora. Rum, sun, and all the shrimp you can eat,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Might be worth leaving the friends behind and going with your boyfriend.”
“My boyfriend also goes to bed at eight.”
Harry’s face says it all, and so does his smile. He finishes his last bite, scoots back on the rug with his water in hand, and leans against the couch. You do the same, sitting beside him, both of you stretched out in that familiar silence of people who’ve just eaten well.
“Do you two live together?” Harry asks. You shake your head. “How long have you been together?”
You do the math.
“Three years and two months.”
“Has he proposed?”
Straight to the point, as always. Instead of answering, you say:
“Can I grab a ginger ale?”
“You don’t have to ask.”
You walk over to the minibar, grab the can, and come back, fully aware of Harry’s eyes following you the whole time. As you crack open the can, you answer:
“He proposed at the beginning of the year, but I said no. For now.”
“Can I ask why?”
You shrug.
“I’m not really sure. I think a proposal should make you excited about the future, but I didn’t feel that. I felt trapped.”
“I see.” Harry studies your face like he’s searching for something. “I don’t think I felt excited about the future either when I proposed.”
“You love your wife.”
“Do you love your boyfriend?” he returns.
“I do.”
“Okay, but?”
“There’s no but,” you say. “I love him. I love our routine. It’s comfortable.”
Harry is silent, but his expression says he doesn’t buy it.
“Harry.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to,” you reply, shifting to face him. “I love him, but I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with him. No butterflies, no excitement, no stomach-flipping moments.”
“That’s anxiety, not love. Love should be calm.”
“Maybe.”
Silence again. You look out the window. He looks at you.
“I was going to file for divorce last year,” he says suddenly, and it feels like a punch in the stomach. “My therapist told me to wait six months, so I wouldn’t do it in the heat of the moment.”
You’re speechless. He unclasps his watch, slowly continuing.
“I know there’s something wrong with my marriage when I’d rather stay here than go home. I should want to get home to see her. But I don’t. And I know that’s not fair to her either.”
He sets the watch down on the coffee table, next to the empty containers, and rubs his wrist. The hands on the dial show 8:20 p.m.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
“Not your fault.”
As he says this, Harry crosses his left arm over his chest to press his right shoulder, wincing slightly.
“Your shoulder okay?”, you ask.
“Pulled something at the gym this morning. Been bothering me all day.”
Before you can even think through the consequences, you offer:
“Want me to press on it a bit? Maybe it’s just tension.”
“Isn’t that a bit outside your job description?”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
Harry smirks and shifts, turning his back to you and giving you space to move closer.
There’s something different about today. You’ve never touched Harry like this before. At most, there were brief handshakes or polite taps on his arm, but now you’re kneeling behind him, pressing your fingers into his shoulder in what feels like the most intimate gesture of your life.
His muscles are rock solid.
“Jesus, Harry. I’m booking you a session with your massage therapist.”
Harry leans forward slightly as you apply more pressure on the tight traps and neck tendon, and for a second, your mind slips to a criminal thought: what he must look like under that shirt.
“Please,” he says, replying to your earlier comment. Then he grabs your hand and places it exactly where it hurts. “Harder, please.”
You press. He lets out a satisfied murmur, and without thinking, your fingers slide under his shirt where it’s already unbuttoned. Warm skin meets your touch, and you feel him stiffen just a little.
“This okay?” you ask.
“Yeah. Keep going.”
You hold one shoulder steady and massage with the other hand under the shirt for a few more minutes.
“If I gave you a raise,” Harry says, “would you become my full-time massage therapist?”
“I don’t even know what I’m doing.”
“And it still feels fucking incredible.”
He never swears around you. Or anyone. Hearing him say that makes the moment feel even more charged. Strangely, it encourages you. You press harder, still behind him, both hands now working the tension from his shoulders.
Then Harry reaches back and takes your left hand. His thumb brushes lightly over your ring finger, and your breath catches.
“There should be an engagement ring here.”
“Maybe.”
“If you get married, would you still work with me?”
“Yeah. I have Stockholm Syndrome,” you say, shifting your position and stretching one leg beside his body. He lets go of your hand, and you go back to massaging, now reaching the base of his neck. Goosebumps rise under your touch. “I could never live without you barking twenty report requests a day.”
“I’m not that bad. I’m nice to you.”
“You are.”
God. His scent is going to kill you.
“You know what the finance team says about us?” Harry starts. You hum, prompting him to go on. “They say you and I are having an affair.”
“Marketing, too. Pretty much the whole company.”
“What? Why?”
Maybe because you turn into a puddle around him.
“Because you pay me more than anyone else,” you say simply. “And I get privileges and people notice. Of course they’re going to think we’re sleeping together.”
“You don’t care?”
“Maybe I’d care if I worked on one of the lower floors. But here? Not a chance. Let them envy me.”
Harry chuckles, shoulders shaking, and rests a hand on your shin, right over the tights. That touch is new too, and, once again, you freeze.
“I know you pay me well because I’m indispensable,” you continue. “Which is very satisfying.”
“So when we stay late working together—”
“Yes,” you answer before he finishes. “They probably think I’m bent over your desk.”
Harry turns to look at his desk. For one second, you both know exactly what the other is imagining.
“Interesting,” he says slowly. “Has anyone ever said anything to you?”
“No. No one’s crazy enough to say anything to the boss’s supposed mistress,” you joke, but the line falls a bit flat, so you quickly add, “According to their little narrative, I mean.”
The awkward moment is cut short by a notification sound from Harry’s computer. You both look toward his desk, and he groans:
“I hope that’s the report from the Chinese investors. They’re three days late.”
He starts to stand, wincing again because of his shoulder, but you place a hand on his arm and get up:
“I’ll check it. Stay put, old man. Even standing up seems like a challenge for you right now.”
“You just got a 10% pay cut.”
You make a “blah blah blah” gesture with your hand and head to his desk, settling into the chair that’s more like a plush couch. On the screen, there’s an open chart, but you quickly move to his inbox.
The latest email is from someone named Yijun, and there’s an attachment.
“You got it,” you say. “Want me to reply?”
“Acknowledge receipt and say I’ll get back once I’ve reviewed the data.”
You begin typing the reply, carefully channeling your best Harry Castillo voice.
Through your peripheral vision, you catch Harry leaving the floor and settling into the leather couch with a satisfied murmur.
“Best regards,” you read aloud, finishing the email. “Harry Castillo, CEO of Castillo & Co Construction. Sent. Done.”
As you minimize the email window, another one pops up. It’s a pre-filled PDF titled “divorce agreement.” You shrink that window as if it had burned your fingers, only to reveal Harry’s personal inbox behind it.
The last message is from his lawyer. You catch a glimpse of the words “as requested,” “speak with her,” “assets,” and “properties” before closing everything immediately.
There’s a knot in your throat as you stand and silently walk back to the lounge area while Harry watches you. He’s left space beside him on the couch, and you settle there, folding your left leg underneath you.
You’re so close that your knee grazes his thigh.
“I sent it,” you say.
“Thanks. You can head home. I’ll stay a little longer.”
“Avoiding your wife?” He doesn’t answer, and honestly, silence is the wiser choice. But you’re not wise. “Can I ask you something?”
“I might not answer.”
“Fair.” You hesitate. “Swear you won’t fire me?” He still says nothing, and you let out a breath, trusting that you won’t be jobless tomorrow. “Is it true you had a thing with the finance manager?”
Harry’s response is a look of disbelief, as if you just told him the strategy department was considering investing in a country undergoing an economic collapse.
“Where’d you hear that?”
“People talk.”
He rolls his eyes.
“Right. And people also say you and I are having an affair, but that’s not true, is it?” If anyone else had used that tone, you’d probably shrink in your seat. But this is Harry. His stress never goes beyond sarcasm—at least with you. “Of course it’s not true. You really think I’m the kind of boss who sleeps with an employee?”
That silences you, and you’re not even sure where this sudden wave of disappointment comes from. It makes you painfully aware of your place in the company. Despite the trust, the passwords, the confidences, in the end, you’re the executive assistant. Nothing more.
“I don’t” you say finally.
He laughs, incredulous.
“Why do you sound disappointed?” he asks. And at this point, you don’t even know what to say, so you start putting on your heels instead, but Harry is faster. “No, no… Hold on.”
“Do you need anything else?” you ask politely, your left foot already in the shoe.
Harry freezes, eyes locked on you, and you freeze too.
“I have my morals,” he says.
“I know that,” you shake your head slightly, as if trying to hear him better. “Sorry, what do you mean by that?”
“I mean I have my morals, and that’s why I’ve never tried anything in here with the one person who makes me want to, especially because she’s my fucking assistant.”
God. You freeze, heart racing. Your mind latches onto the tense of the verb.
“Makes? Present tense?”
His quiet laugh is almost bitter.
“Unfortunately,” he says, settling back into the couch. “My father raised me right. I have morals, I respect my wife, and I care about my reputation.”
You drop the shoe again and turn to him. Your question is clear, firm:
“Even on nights like this one?”
He says your name like a prayer, rubbing his face with one hand.
“Don’t do this.”
That quiet, simple plea brings you crashing back to reality for the thousandth time. You whisper an apology just as softly, pick up your heels again, and before you can put them on, the leather cushions shift beneath you.
That’s the only warning you get before Harry is close behind you, his hand gently gathering your hair and moving it over your right shoulder to expose your neck.
“I have my morals,” he repeats, coming closer. “Don’t you?”
You think of your boyfriend, and how sweet he is to you. Your mind conjures up images of happy moments, trips, dinners, gifts, and you know you can’t just shove those into a box and lock it away for a few hours. That’s not how it works.
But the way your stomach knots with Harry’s closeness shrinks all those memories down like a sheet of paper folded over and over. They’re still there, but small. Insignificant.
“I do,” you say, because it’s true. “But I can live with that.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Harry murmurs the way he always does when something matters, as if tasting the words.
“If you’re just going to feel guilty—”
“I’m not talking about guilt,” Harry interrupts. And then his hand is on your stomach, pulling you back toward him with one decisive motion that makes you gasp. “I’m saying having you just once wouldn’t be enough.”
“Well, it’s going to have to be.”
At the very first touch of Harry’s lips on your neck, your entire body feels like it’s catching fire, every nerve alive with want, your hands clenched tightly on your thighs. It’s as if every hair on your body is standing on end.
“Did you forget I’m the one giving orders here?” he says. “Once isn’t enough.”
“Is that a command?” you challenge.
Harry’s mouth trails down to your throat, leaving open, wet kisses on your sensitive skin.
His fingers glide lightly to your breasts, the tips barely grazing your nipple through the silk of your blouse. The friction of the fabric makes you arch into his touch so slow and torturous it nearly drives you mad.
“If only you actually followed my orders,” Harry murmurs.
“Of course I do.”
“Yeah?” He kisses the corner of your mouth, pausing just to say, “Then get on your knees for me.”
You shift on the couch to face him, and suddenly, it all feels terrifyingly real. The weight of what you’re doing crashes into you like a slap across the face, because he’s right there, wedding ring on his finger and lips still flushed red.
But unfortunately, it’s not enough to make you stop.
“I want a kiss first.”
Harry parts his legs, giving you space, and you rest one knee between them on the couch, moving in closer to sit on his thigh. You run your fingers along his cheeks, his beard, the collar of his perfectly white shirt. It’s the first time you’ve touched him like this, and you’re certain your gaze gives away more than you want, because there’s a softness in the way Harry pulls you closer.
You’ve caught yourself wondering what kissing him would be like, even during office hours. You’ve seen him kiss his wife before, but it was always just polite pecks, the kind of affection acceptable under New York’s high-society scrutiny.
But nothing could have prepared you for how naturally your lips fit together, or how good it feels. It’s even better than you imagined, just like the rush of doing something so wrong, yet so irresistible, precisely because it’s forbidden, and everything you’ve secretly wanted.
Harry’s hands slide to your waist, deepening the kiss, and yours go straight to his hair, already messier now. The moment his tongue touches yours is the same moment his hands slip beneath your skirt, lifting the fabric as they go.
He finds the lace tops of your stockings, held in place by a garter belt. His hands go straight to your ass, gripping tightly as if it’s instinct.
The curse he whispers makes you smile.
“Take off the skirt and blouse. Get on your knees,” he says, cupping your face and pressing one more kiss to your lips. Then, with a whisper: “Please.”
Hearing this man plead is a dream come true, which is exactly why you nod right away and walk toward his office door.
You close it. Lock it. And as you return to him, you unzip the skirt and slip off your blouse, leaving it behind in your path. The air conditioning makes your nipples hard and sends chills across your skin, but Harry’s gaze, now seated deep into the couch with legs parted, more than makes up for the cold.
Next goes the skirt, and now you’re standing before him in just your stockings, panties, and garter belt.
His lips part as he draws in a deep, appreciative breath, eyes trailing slowly up your body. It’s almost as if he’s touching you with his stare. His hand goes to his tie, loosening it as you sink to your knees.
With your hands resting on your thighs, you watch as he pulls the tie off (the one you bought last month) and undoes the top buttons of his shirt. Next comes the belt and then the button on his pants. Harry leans forward slightly, legs still open, and pulls himself free from his boxers.
Despite the curiosity and heat flooding through you, you keep your eyes locked on his until your tongue brushes the tip of his hard cock. Harry exhales sharply, eyes fluttering shut, and there’s a quiet power in watching a man like him unravel — even just a little.
That alone is enough to make you take him fully into your mouth, lips closing around his thick shaft, sinking him deep.
It earns you a low, guttural curse.
Harry gathers your hair in one hand, holding it tight at the base of your neck. You have one hand on his thigh, the other stroking what your mouth can’t reach, and for a few minute, you lose yourself in the weight of him on your tongue, in his taste, his scent, the sounds he makes just for you.
And then just one question slices through the haze:
“What would your boyfriend think, seeing you like this?” Harry asks, his voice so polite it almost clashes with what you’re doing. He pulls your head back, letting his cock slip from your mouth, dragging the tip across your lips like he’s marking you. “On your knees for your boss. Do you suck his cock this well too?”
You narrow your eyes.
There’s probably an unspoken rule about not mentioning spouses or partners during moments like this. The act is already betrayal enough.
But if Harry wants to play that game, you won’t back down.
You rise slightly on your knees, aligning yourself so he can press his cock between your breasts, and you reach for his mouth to whisper:
“And do you get this hard when it’s your wife sucking your cock? Because if you did, you’d probably want to be home right now.”
Harry smiles against your lips and kisses you again as you climb onto his lap, and he remains silent.
“Let’s go all the way,” you say, because you’re far too wet to let this go to waste. “Right?”
“Right,” Harry answers without hesitation. “No turning back.”
“Do you want to?”
He slips his hand into your panties and finds so much wetness that his fingers glide immediately. His answer comes when he lifts the same fingers to his mouth, eyes locked on yours.
That makes you rush to unclip the garter belt and slide off your panties, tossing them aside. Harry gets the message and starts striping off his pants and shirt. And suddenly you’re on your back with Harry’s heavy and sturdy body on yours, skin on skin.
Harry rolls down your stockings in one smooth, hurried motion. You wrap your thighs around his hips.
“I don’t have a condom,” he says, and God, if eyes could beg, his would be on their knees. “It’s not like a married man needs to carry one around.”
“I printed your test results last week. And I don’t have sex without a condom…” you begin—and then add, “…with my boyfriend.”
He gets it.
“Can I?”
“You can.”
Harry doesn’t even glance down as he guides himself inside you, keeping his eyes on your face, your mouth, his own opening bit by bit while sinking into the wetness. When he’s fully buried, you have to shift your hips to adjust to his thick length.
“Just a second,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He nods, and you take the moment to ask, “Had you imagined this before?”
“I don’t know how to answer that without sounding like a pervert.”
You run your thumb across his eyebrow, studying his features in the dim light of the office.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you I’ve imagined you while fucking my boyfriend?”
Harry raises an eyebrow.
“I want details.”
“Earlier that day you and I were at a meeting. You did some absurd calculation in your head, and it made me wet. So I went home and…”
“Fucked him while thinking about me,” he finishes, smiling. “Filthy mouth.”
When you keep staring at him, silently asking for his turn, Harry sighs.
“Of course I’ve imagined it. Every time we stay late together, or when you wear that damn red dress and walk into my office, and especially when you put arrogant assholes in their place. You drive me insane.”
You reach between your bodies, your fingers trailing along where you’re joined, circling the base of Harry’s cock. He jerks his hips reflexively, breathing out a soft moan.
“And…” you press.
“And sometimes I dream about you and wake up so fucking hard that…” Harry begins to move his hips slowly when you give him a nod. The thrust is deep, slow, excruciating, and he fills you entirely. You almost miss his next words:
“…I wake my wife up and fuck her.”
“While thinking of me.”
Harry grips your hips and covers your mouth with his:
“While thinking of you.”
Your mouths open into a kiss that matches the way he fucks you: raw, urgent, drenched in tension. Every thrust hits something deep inside you, something you’re not sure anyone else ever will again. You cling to his shoulders, resisting the urge to claw at him, lifting your hips to match his rhythm.
You’re soaked, so much it’s nearly embarrassing, and you’re certain Harry’s lap is drenched with it too. As his movements grow more erratic, you slide a hand between your legs.
Harry catches your wrist, guiding it back to his shoulder.
“No, no… You’re gonna come on my mouth later.”
Well. Okay.
Harry shifts to sit back on the couch, one foot planted on the floor, the other tucked under his leg. He pulls you into his lap again, and this new angle makes him reach deeper, every little shift filling you completely. When he's about to come, he grips your waist tightly to keep you still and thrusts harder, driven by your moans, his mouth open against the space between your breasts."
“Can I come inside?” Harry asks, holding you firmly.
“Please.”
He groans, wrapping his arms around you, and just a few more thrusts later he’s pulsing inside you, breathing heavily against your skin. The warmth floods you in a way that makes you throb for your own release.
“Harry, I need to—”
“I know.”
You’re not sure how it happens so quickly, but in the next second he’s back on the couch, and you’re straddling his face. Then it’s his mouth, his lips on your aching clit.
You grip his hair and glance down, meeting his gaze. Your whimper turns into a moan as he drags his tongue along your folds, tasting both of you, and returns to sucking that overstimulated spot.
“Stick your tongue out,” you beg. “Please—”
He does, and you immediately grind against it, whispering Harry’s name over and over like a prayer.
It hits you like an earthquake. So sudden, so intense that your whole body trembles on top of him, and for a split second, it feels like you forget how to breathe. When you come back to yourself, you’re sitting on his chest, and Harry’s wiping his beard with the palm of his hand, a crooked little smirk on his red lips.
You look down at him and say:
“We’re going to hell.”
He wraps his arms around you and sits up, keeping you in his lap.
“I’m an atheist,” he says, kissing your shoulder. “So… okay.”
“Okay.”
“And now?”
“Now,” you say slowly, cupping his face and making him look at you again. “This never happened. We go back to our lives like nothing ever did.”
Harry sighs your name.
“You say a lot of smart things. That’s not one of them.”
You pinch his cheek, offering no reply, and slip off his lap to gather your clothes from the floor. Your stockings, panties, skirt, and blouse. When you return to the couch, Harry’s already pulled on his boxers and pants, so you sit next to him to do the same.
The entire process of getting dressed again is done in silence, and you’re not sure what you feel: shame, guilt, some strange sense of calm… The only thing that doesn’t hit you is regret — and that makes you feel guilty too.
As you’re slipping on your heels, Harry says:
“It’s only nine-forty.”
“Hm?”
“We still have two hours and twenty minutes before the night’s over. And I’ve got an empty apartment about twenty minutes from here.”
You look up at him, and he adds:
“If tomorrow we’re going to pretend this never happened, we might as well make the most of it tonight.”
You know it’s a terrible excuse. You know that tomorrow neither of you will be able to pretend this didn’t happen. You don’t know what comes next, and the ring on Harry’s finger sits like a weight in your gut, but you’re not a good person.
You lied to Harry. Your morals are bent, and even though you’re fully aware of the circumstances, they don’t stop you.
Nothing could stop you from getting what you want. And right now? You know exactly what you want.
“I’ll wait for you in the garage,” you tell him.
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minkieater · 3 months ago
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tace's teez masterlist ⩜⃝
˚∘⊰⋆☆ this blog & all my writing is nsfw, mdni 18+ .ᐟ.ᐟ
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ot8 posts ↴
꩜ shareteez! nsfw
꩜ when another member walks in on you nsfw
꩜ texting teezers that you ran into your ex
꩜ polaroid love nsfw
꩜ how they fuck nsfw
one shots↴
KIM HONGJOONG
tide – toxic relationship, soulmates, nsfw
three fates – city boy!joongie, nsfw
JEONG YUNHO
luck – cheating, stalking, nsfw
twin cowboys – nashville!yungi, nsfw
sweat – post workout yun, nsfw
three's company – bf!mingi x gf!reader x bestie!yunho nsfw
CHOI SAN
carousel – toxic relationship, college!san, nsfw
selfish - stairwell sex nsfw
SONG MINGI
twin cowboys – nashville!yungi, nsfw
kissing mingi for the first time
first time with mingi nsfw
sleepy nsfw
boyfriend texts suggestive
backshots blurb
fwb!mingi hcs
three's company – bf!mingi x gf!reader x bestie!yunho nsfw
PARK SEONGHWA
facesitting drabble
eight first dates / 006 → nsfw → maybe starting back at square one is what you needed. during a night out with two of your girlfriends you haven’t seen since your nights out at the frats, a particular bartender has perked your interest. before the question of will he accompany you at thanksgiving, will he let you have him so easily?
series ↴
the city → nsfw → as a junior at NYU, you just landed your dream internship. you didn't think a shot at your career would come with secrets, mistakes, and drama... at what age do you really start to grow up?
eight first dates → nsfw → you were tired of spending the holidays alone, tired of enduring your family’s incessant questions about your relationship status. from october fifth to november twenty third, you vowed to yourself that in the short eight weeks you gave yourself, you’d show up to thanksgiving with a boyfriend. eight different dates, eight different men, one of them’s gotta be a keeper… right?
three's company — yungi x reader nsfw / planning to buy a house, get married and start a family within the next few years, you and mingi are the blueprint for the perfect relationship— until one of yunho’s infamous stories about his intriguing sex life gets stuck in your head for a little too long, and has you curious about spicing up your own sex life.
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babymetaldoll · 8 months ago
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First day (Spencer Reid x fem!reader)
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Part of the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge @aperrywilliams and I are hosting during October.
Event Masterlist - Main Masterlist
Summary: Spencer is having a lot of problems dealing with his daughter's first day of school. 
Word count: 1.720
Warnings: Just pure fluff 
A/N: Hey! this was so sweet to write, I hope you enjoy it. 
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- “I’m not ready.” - I whisper as I look at my little five-year-old daughter preparing for her first official school day. She is putting all the snacks my wife got ready for her into her lunchbox, and we both stare at her in adoration from the other side of the kitchen counter.
Little Rose is ecstatic. She has been talking about this all week. We visited her classroom and met her teacher already, and since then, all she wants is to come back to school, learn, and make friends. 
- “I’m never gonna be ready.” - I add and my wife turns to me with a small smile as my eyes keep fixed on our baby girl. Of course, I know this is hard for her as well. Our girl is growing up too fast, life is passing us so quickly. 
- “It’s just her first day of school, not her first date. Though that might happen soon now that she will be meeting boys.” 
- “Are you trying to calm me down?”- I turn to her, frowning, and she just laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist. 
- “Absolutely not, but I love how you are freaking out so much.” 
- “Ready! Mommy! Daddy!”- Rosie yells and grabs her backpack. - “Let’s go to school!” 
- “Ok lovebug, we are coming.”- (Y/N) walks to her and makes sure all her things are packed correctly. Then, she helps our daughter put on her little jacket and shoes as I shake myself from my intrusive thoughts and follow their moves. 
My wife takes a few pictures of our daughter at our front porch holding a letter board that reads “Rosie’s first day of school” and somehow that makes it all even more real, and painful. It’s happening. My little girl is going to school. 
It’s a short ride from our house to Rosie’s primary school. In less than ten minutes, I’m parking the car outside, feeling the knot in my throat getting tighter as the time to let my baby girl alone is inevitable. 
- “Ready to learn, lovebug?”- (Y/N) takes our daughter from her chair and grabs her backpack. Rosie jumps, clearly excited, and I try to smile though I’m in fact, fighting the tears. 
- “Yes! I wanna learn!”
- “Dad and I will be waiting for you right here at four, ok?”- my wife assures her. Of course, we asked for the entire week off work, to join Rose on her first day and to be there for her in case of any adaptation issues during the first few days.   
- “Come here, lovebug.”- I kneel in front of her and wrap my arms around her, feeling her tiny hands on my neck.- “Do you want us to walk you to your classroom?”
- “Yes, Daddy! please!”
Finally, the answer I actually wanted to hear. But before we walk into the main hall, Miss Daisy welcomes us with a big smile and looks at our daughter. 
- “Hello there, little one! ready for your first day?”
- “Yes!”
I thought Rose would be nervous, I don’t know why, maybe ‘cos I wanted to believe she was going to be as terrified as I was of the unknown at her age. It’s so shocking to see she has grown so differently. So strong and independent. I know it’s a sign (Y/N) and I have done a good job as her parents. But still, it hurts to know she doesn’t depend on us as much as she did a few years ago. And it will only get worse from this day on. 
She is still just five years old, I know I’m getting ahead with these thoughts, but I can’t stop them. The only thing that takes me from my mind is Rosie’s hand, leaving mine. 
- “Bye, Daddy!”- and she waves as she takes a few steps closer to Miss Daisy. 
- “Parents are allowed only to this point.”- my wife explains, probably noticing I was absolutely lost in my own head. I kneel again and open my arms. 
- “One more hug for daddy!”- I request my daughter, and she replies running to me, giggling. The sound of those giggles can fix anything wrong in my life, I swear. 
- “I love you so much, lovebug. Be good today.”- I whisper and kiss her cheeks a few times. 
- “Yes, Daddy.”
(Y/N) wraps her arms around our daughter, kissing her and wishing her a good day. She also takes a few more pictures as Rose walks the hall with the teacher and a few more kids. She is already talking with another little girl. I would have never done that. My daughter is already stronger and better than me. That makes me feel proud. 
Nevertheless, that doesn’t stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. I have to bite my lips not to burst out crying in that school lobby. My wife wipes her own tears as I wrap an arm around her, the two of us still staring at our little girl, walking away from us, not looking back once the entire time. 
- “I wasn’t ready.”- I whisper and sigh. (Y/N) rests her head against my arm in silence for a few seconds. 
- “I knew it was going to be painful.”- she finally whispers.- “And I know it’s normal, but still, it’s such a big reality check to watch her walking away from us.” 
We both sigh and stare until our daughter is out of sight. I hold her hand as we start walking back to the car and somehow, I feel a little empty now that Rose isn’t here. 
- “Wanna grab coffee?”- my wife asks as we get into the car.- “Technically, we have the entire day for us.”
- “Coffee sounds great, honey.”  
I drive us to our favorite place, and as we sit to wait for the waitress, I speak my mind. 
- “Do you think she is ok?” 
- “Yes. You know if there was anything wrong they would call us.”
- “I know… but, what if she is struggling to tell the teacher she isn’t feeling good?”
- “When has Rose Diana Reid not spoken her mind?”- (Y/N) asks and smiles.- “That little girl has a very strong voice, and you know it. She convinced you to eat more greens for your health.”
I chuckle and just nod. The waitress finally arrives and gets our order and once we are alone again, (Y/N) holds my hand upon the table and asks.   
- “Why are you so worried?”
I pause and look at her, knowing she is fully aware of my high school experience and how painful it had been. So I guess, though it’s obvious, I should just get it off my chest.  
- “What if… what if someone is mean to her?”- (Y/N) squeezes my hand and smiles at me sweetly. 
- “If that ever happens, and I’m sure it will not, she knows what to do. Starts with “kick” and ends with “asses”, just like we taught her.”
I chuckle at those words. She is right about it, we have taught our little kid to be strong and stand her ground. But yet, I can’t help but be worried. She is my baby. 
- “I know, but I just don’t want her to go through any of the things I did when I was in school.” 
- “Stop projecting.”- my wife says and holds my hand.
- “I am not.”
- “Yes, you are. You just have to trust we’ve given her all the tools she needs to stand up for herself. She is not a baby anymore, she is a girl. A very smart, sweet, and strong girl.”
- “Just like her mother.”- I whisper and my wife just smiles. 
- “You are smart, sweet, and strong as well, Spencer.” 
I just smile and stare at her. 
- “I love you so much.”- the words come out as a whisper, probably ‘cause I feel so emotional at the moment I think I might start crying. It’s not my best moment. By far. 
- “I love you too, Spencer.”- (Y/N) smiles at me and scoots closer to kiss my cheek.- “I think I have something that might cheer you up.”
- “What?”
My wife just stares at me in silence, smiling for a few seconds, before she starts talking again. 
- “I think the reason why you are so sad about Rose going to school is because she is growing up too fast and she is not your baby anymore.”
- “There is no need to shove it on my face.”- I reply and pretend to be in pain. (Y/N) opens her bag and takes an envelope. 
- “So this might make you feel better.”
- “What is it? Is everything ok?”- I ask her as I start reading.
- “Everything is perfect” 
- “Your HCG levels are so high”- I mumble as I read the results. She just smiles and nods. I read the exam in a second, but the information doesn’t seem to make sense.
- “But… does.. is it?”- I look at her in shock and she just smiles. 
- “I’m six weeks pregnant, Spencer. So get ready for baby Reid number two.”
I wide open my eyes as I hear her say those words. My heart is rising inside my chest and I hold her close to my body, not believing what is happening. 
- “Are you sure?”
- “Very sure, honey.”
- “My god, I love you so much!”- I say and kiss her lips as soon as I can. She giggles and kisses me, but the waitress appears that moment with all our food and we have to move apart for a moment at least. 
- “When did you first know?”
- “I was late and had scheduled an appointment with my doctor already, so I thought, what the hell, let’s make a test. And when it came positive I knew I had to wait for a special moment to tell you.” 
- “So you waited until I was having a serious meltdown during our daughter’s first day at school?”- and she just smiles and nods. - “I love you so much.”
- “I love you more.”
- “I seriously doubt it.”
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chrystal-ink · 6 months ago
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Shadvent Calendar Day 25!!!!!!!
Shadow X GN Reader
Merry Christmas
Twas the morning of Christmas and all through the house
not a creature was stirring not even a chao.
The Stockings were filled with gifts and much more
And presents under the tree there was so much was in store.
the lovers were snuggled nice and warm in their bed
with dreams of each other dancing round in their head.
and that my dear reader sets the scene,
for I quickly grew tired of this rhyme scheme.
🎄
Shadow was the first to awaken, cracking his eyes open he saw that you were still wrapped in his arms from the night before. he looked down admiring how beautiful you looked as you slept, so serene and gentle. he couldn't help but lay a kiss between your ears, holding you close as you snoozed.
your eyes fluttered open after about thirty minuets, feeling a warm embrace and the sweet sensation of Shadow petting your hair you looked up at him and smiled.
"Good morning sweetheart" you said your voice still a little groggy.
"Good morning my love, merry Christmas" he said gently.
"Is that really today?"
"Yes, would you like some breakfast, or maybe open up some presents?"
"mmm, In a little while, I want to stay here for a bit."
"very well love, take as long as you need."
You two spent the next hour snuggling in bed holding onto each other keeping the cold weather at bay. the two of you holding each other's ungloved hands enjoying the soft intimacy of skin on skin contact. sweet nothings were whispered as the wind blew softly against the window.
"I suppose we should have some breakfast" You said finally ready to begin the day.
"How would you like me to help?"
"Could you feed the Chao and grab our pancake toppings from the pantry"
"Consider it done"
The two of you quickly got to work on your tasks You brewed some coffee and grabbed Shadow his beans. Within a half hour you had a pancake feast ready for the two of you.
After breakfast you couldn't wait anymore. It was time for presents.
The two of you took turns opening one another's gift's. Much to your surprise Shadow was a very advanced gift giver. he gave you things you never thought to ask for, like a replica of your favorite toy from childhood, the perfect accessory for an outfit that never felt quite complete to you, a signed album from your favorite musician. what warmed your heart the most wasn't the things themselves but the fact that he had listened to you, he took the time to know you well enough and chose your gifts from the heart, that was the best gift you received on Christmas morning.
after presents you went on a walk enjoying the winter weather. you played in the snow even letting Shadow's Chao in on the fun.
Vanilla insisted on having everyone over for Christmas dinner. Her home filled with the most wonderful aromas imaginable. a meal made with love and served to a company of your closest friend's, what could be better than that.
That night after the two of you had gone home, you were snuggled up by the fireplace.
"Did You have a good Christmas?" Shadow asked
"The best" you responded
"I'm glad you think so."
Shadow placed a kiss on your lips, warming your insides any hint of a chill destroyed by his love.
"Merry Christmas Shadow"
"Merry Christmas Y/N"
Note: Oh my gosh it's Finally Done!!!! I want to thank everyone who has read this series even if you only read one or two it means so much to me, every like, comment, and reblog really helped push me forward and keep going with this series. this is the first time I've ever completed a project like this and I'm so proud of myself. I started this blog to help me get through a really tough personal time and thanks to all of you lovely readers you helped me get through it. I will be taking a short break for now not too long maybe just a week or two. I have been writing for this blog non-stop since October and I want to avoid any burn out. I will be back soon with Regency Au part three (which is looking to be very long) and chapter one of my enemies to lovers series so be sure look out for those soon. I will continue to do my one shots as well as I really enjoy doing them I think I'll probably need to figure out a schedule lol. until next time, Merry Christmas and have a beautiful Day.
Much love,
-Chrystal
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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 9 months ago
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hi can you do a poly!plastics x fem!reader where the plastics go all out when asking reader to prom?
Will You Go To Prom With Us?
|| poly!plastics x fem!reader
(i myself am poly)
|| Warnings; light swearing, Regina being controlling, short drabble
|| Summary; the girls plan the perfect prom proposal for reader, completely surprising her with it.
Requests open!
Started; october 8th
Finished; october 9th
~~~
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Prom was very quickly approaching and you can bet your ass that the plastics were excited. They've been buzzing with ideas over the last week on how to ask you to prom. Of course you've already been dating the three girls, but they still wanted to do some special ask. Karen was the one who kept giving the most ideas and at random times too.
The three would be in the school bathroom just doing their makeup together and she would say something like," oh! oh! Space!"
Regina stared at Karen in confusion," space?"
"For prom!!" Karen smiled, Gretchen glanced at Regina and Regina rolled her eyes.
"Ugh, next." She'd dismiss the idea. Like she did every idea. She wanted it to be absolutely perfect. It just had to be.
It took them a few more days but they managed to get everything together perfectly. Regina was sure you would like this. You just had to. There was no doubt in her mind that you wouldn't say yes.
When everything was setup at Regina's place, all they had to do was get you there. Gretchen took out her phone and gave you a call, glancing at Karen with a massive smile on her face.
"Hey, Gretchen!" You answered the phone and she seemed to just smile more.
"Babe! Wanna come to dinner? We're all meeting at Regina's soon," Gretchen explained.
You definitely liked the sound of that, it's been a hot minute since you and your girlfriends had the time to all go out together. They've been super busy the last week or so, though you weren't sure why. "Yeah! I'd love that. I'll meet you there soon, just let me get ready."
You'd spend the next hour or so getting ready, making sure you had the absolute perfect outfit. Wanting your girls to see you at your best. You did some light makeup, which is mainly what took up most of your time. When you were finally satisfied, you took a picture of yourself in your mirror then zoomed in. Doing some last minute checks to make sure it wasn't messed up anywhere or you didn't miss anything.
Once you were completely and 100% satisfied, you went to Regina's. She didn't live too far from you so you were able to just walk there. Upon getting there, you went inside and looked around for your girls. The house seemed dim, only lit by candle lights. Part of you wondered if Ms George was home and trying some new weird trend. She always seemed to have something going on. You decided to head upstairs to Regina's room, but didn't find them there until some lights in the backyard caught your eye. Maybe they're back there?
Going back downstairs, you made your way to the backyard. Reaching the back door you looked down and noticed a trail of rose petals and candles lined carefully along it. You raised an eyebrow, wondering what was going on.
You opened the door and followed the path all the way to the back of Regina's lawn where a table had been setup with a red silk cloth and even more roses and candles in the middle of it.
The girls walked over, each holding a sign. Karen's read 'Will you go' Gretchen's said 'to prom' and Regina's said 'with us?'
Altogether; 'Will you go to prom with us?'
It took a moment for it to sink in what was happening. They were asking you to prom. You smiled from ear to ear and quickly nodded," yes! 1000 times yes!"
They seemed relieved and Karen was the first to break way from the sign holding, running over to you and kissing you deeply. You held the taller girl close to you, smiling as you kissed her back with arms wrapped around her waist.
As the kiss broke, Karen grinned. Looking at you as though you had hung the stars for her," she said yes!!!" She looked back at your other girlfriends, Gretchen laughed and smiled. Running over to join the two of you and giving you a kiss too.
"Of course she said yes, Karen." Regina rolled her eyes but walked over, taking the signs from the others and setting them down before giving you a kiss after Gretchen," do you like it?" She asked, her tone quiet as she glanced at their setup.
You nodded assuringly as you cupped her cheek," yes, baby. It's perfect."
Regina relaxed further. She'd been more on edge about this then she cared to admit, she knew you would have said yes. That wasn't her concern. Her worries were in if they had done this romantically enough. If you would have liked it. This was for prom, after all.
Once the girls got all settled together, Ms George brought out their dinner and handed it to them with a smile.
"How'd it go, ladies?" She asked, looking around the table.
"She said yes!!" Karen smiled, still beaming.
Ms George looked to you with a soft gaze that you couldn't quite read, then the rest of you again," I'll be inside if you need anything. Enjoy your evening, girls."
With that she walked back in, letting the four of you enjoy your evening together under the stars and candle light.
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hrtsdevils · 2 years ago
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you made me love the number forty-three | fall to me au
summary: a close-knit bond is formed between luke hughes and y/n l/n throughout the years. they have their ups and downs, but they’ll always be there for one another.
pairing: platonic luke hughes x family friend!reader
wc: 1564
warnings: fuck ass bob
a/n this is based off of abby by gracie abrams, and it’s very dear to my heart! pretend that luke wasn’t committed to umich 2 years before he graduated… for the plot! sorry jack’s kind of a meanie, i love him!!! i swear!! it just fits w the lyrics <3 enjoy and thanks for reading!
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tell me your secrets, ask every question. my door is open twenty-four/seven. think you were made from something in heaven. you made me love the number eleven forty-three.
october 2008-september 2010
Your family had known the Hughes family for as long as you could remember. Your mother had played soccer at the University of New Hampshire with Ellen, and she was the first person to cheer her on once hockey season started. This allowed them to form a close bond over their four years of eligibility. The Hughes family travelled a bit around the country due to the careers of Ellen and Jim, but as soon as they settled in Toronto with their seven, five, and three-year-old sons, your mother followed suit with five-year-old you and your eight-year-old older brother.
The older two boys in each family started hockey, and Jack was soon to follow. This left you and little Luke to hang out in the care of Ellen, and occasionally your mom. At first, you loved him, he was like your personal baby doll that you could drag around, dress up, and have tea parties with. Luke didn’t usually object, except for that one incident where you tried to make him wear “clip-clops”, as you called them, to which he had a temper tantrum about the sheer idea of putting them on his feet.
As you grew older, Luke wanted less to do with you and your girly things and more to do with hockey, along with whatever else the boys were doing. Although normal of him, you still felt betrayed. What can you say; you were seven years old. To try and make you fit in, Luke took craft scissors to your long, wavy hair and cut it to look like the boys. Maybe you’d have looked better if you had a pixie cut done by a professional salon, however, he was slightly less than and you came out with the same shaggy haircut as the five-year-old. You ran to your mom immediately, about to cry of embarrassment.
“Mommy, something bad happened!” You screeched, interrupting her conversation with Ellen and catching the attention of the three boys.
Covering her mouth slightly, Ellen was the first to speak, “Oh, sweetie.. what happened?” She reached out to touch your now chin-length locks and brushed a few stray longer hairs out of your eyes.
“Luke cut it, so I could play hockey with them.” You gesture towards the boys, “And now I... I look like him!” You exclaimed out of horror, finally realizing the drastic nature of your actions.
You started to tear up before your mother cut in, “Baby, you both look adorable! It’ll grow out soon, don’t worry about it.”
You were still seething for the rest of the day, and you were plotting your revenge plan on Luke for weeks. You wanted to kill him, and had been ignoring him since that very moment.
You figured your life was over, and what better way to spend your final moments pretending Luke didn’t exist after what he’d done to you. You decided that he was public enemy #1, or at least that’s what he was until you looked in the mirror, albeit a month or two later, and your hair had grown out into a short bob, framing your sweet features beautifully. You started to feel better about it.
Later that day, you went up to your mom and curled up in her lap. “Do you think Luke and I will ever get along again?” You asked while she was reading a book.
Your mother sighed and smiled at you, “You and the boys just have different interests. When you get older, things will be different and you’ll be even closer.”
december 2015
Your mom was right, although you and Luke were pretty far in age, he was practically your baby brother and best friend. You were close, despite differing interests and he would confide in you on a regular basis. One particular night, Luke rode his bike down the sidewalk in the cold, snowy winter and knocked on the window to your first-story bedroom.
You immediately let him in, then asked him what was wrong. Ten-year-old Luke pulled you into a hug and started spilling out his feelings and secrets. “Jack’s so rude!” He exclaimed into your shoulder, “He thinks he’s so much better at everything! Hockey, Mario Kart, basketball, all of it.”
“And?” You inquired, “Just ignore him, Lukey.”
He sniffed some more and released himself from your arms, “He keeps excluding me from his friends and stuff, they’re over and he pretends I don’t exist because I’m not good.” He wiped his nose and sat on the carpeted floor by your bed, “Quinn’s not home, he’s at a tournament with Mom.” He attempted to clarify why Quinn couldn’t stop, although you already knew because your brother was with them.
You frowned, “That’s not cool of him.” You quickly shot a text message to Jim saying Luke came over here to hang out, so nobody got worried. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded, and you offered to make some Kraft mac and cheese. “Feel free to listen to music or something, love you.” You slipped out the door and went to make him some dinner.
Since you were little, you knew for certain that you’d always be there for him and now you knew you’d always look out for him, whenever he needed it. Even if one day he’d be more able to protect himself than you ever could, today you would refrain from marching over to the Hughes residence and getting in a physical fight with Jack.
march 2020
It was almost your eighteenth birthday, so you were visiting home to hang out with your parents, the Hughes’, and a few other hometown friends. You entered the front door to your house after catching up with your friend over coffee to see your parents and the Hughes’ bent over Luke and his laptop. “What’s up?” You question, hanging up your big, puffy jacket.
“We’re waiting for my UMich college acceptance letter, they sent them out today.” He said, nervously. You could tell by the shakiness of his voice.
You joined them at the table, “Don’t be silly, Lukey. You know that they’ve already expressed interest in you and your game.” He smiled a little as you ruffled his hair, and sat down at the chair to the right of him.
“I wish Jack and Quinn were here.” Luke sighed and scratched his head, “Jack promised he’d call, but I think he’s busy.”
You frowned for him, you knew how much closer he and Jack had become in the last few years, but they’d drifted again when Jack moved to New Jersey last year. A part of you wished Jack had gone to college and stayed closer, but you and Luke knew he was too good for the NHL to wait on. “I’m sure he’ll call soon, bub. Give it a little bit.”
After about twenty minutes of refreshing and chatting, the letter from the University of Michigan popped up. It was nerve-wracking. Luke had already been accepted into a few safety schools that wanted him on their hockey teams, but he really wanted to follow in Quinn’s footsteps and go to Michigan. Luke’s cursor hovered over the email for a few moments before clicking it, and to nobody’s surprise, it was an acceptance letter. Everybody cheered, but you seemed the most excited (besides Luke, of course.)
“Luke!” You squealed, hugging the boy from the side as tight as possible, “You did it!”
He hugged you back, “Thanks for supporting me, and letting me sleep on your floor.. and buying me food all the time.” He chuckled, “Couldn’t have done it without you, sissy.”
present day
It was Luke and Jack’s day off, as they had zero games scheduled for the next few days. You had come to visit them to watch a few games, and you were staying at their apartment. It wasn’t a rare occurrence that you came and watched their games, stayed in the guest bedroom of their Hoboken apartment, and hung out with their team and whatever WAGs were joining them. But today it was just you and Luke, chilling on the couch and watching ‘Elf’.
“Remember last November when we went to New York?” You recalled while watching Buddy run through the city. Luke turned the TV down and grinned.
He nodded, “Yeah, good times. And we ate so much chocolate that you almost threw up.”
“That wasn’t because of the chocolate,” you objected, “it was because you were making me laugh so hard my organs hurt.”
Luke snorted as he remembered the vacation and the hotel room you guys stayed in. It was a spontaneous trip on a week when he was injured to try and cheer him up. You guys sat all night judging random music albums and your boyfriend at the time. It was all just a part of a collection of memories you loved to revisit, a photo album in your head.
“God, I can’t believe how old we’re getting.” You said, a tone of sadness. “You used to fit on my shoulders, and now I think you might break them if I tried to give you another piggyback ride.” You laughed softly.
“I’m grateful that our moms raised us two houses down.” Luke threw a piece of popcorn at your face.
You threw it back, “I’m grateful I get to know you.” You stated, a smile gracing your features.
i’m right here. fall to me, to me. fill your head with sweet dreams, sweet dreams. you’d never hurt a thing, nothing. i hope you know to talk to me.
end
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destinationtrekk · 8 months ago
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How would S.T.A.R.S era Wesker and maybe the S.T.A.R.S team react to a reader who's favorite time of the year is October and Halloween in general like the whole Wesker and friends have known them they've made a big deal about the month. Nothing's off the table they're decorating the office, adding spooky objects to their desk (that stay all year around), wearing subtle Halloween outfits before changing into their uniform, and maybe inviting the whole team over to see whatever new project they're working (they do film, writing, and sfx makeup outside of work as passion project they have a creative nature). However, this year they've done nothing that they usually do and they seem quieter than normal so slightly off that it kinda goes unnoticed for a short while
included chris and jill too because...well i loves them
he has a quiet appreciation for the fun energy you bring to the office. if he's being honest, even he thinks the mood has been a little depressing since all the recent murders the STARS team has dealt with leading up to the holidays (just like every year). seeing your decorations and little pins and subtle costumes alongside your uniform make him smile when he's alone in his office.
it takes a week or so, but eventually the entire team notices your weak energy this year. chris is the first to mention how he misses the small gatherings (they're parties, just admit it) you usually throw leading up to halloween.
you just shrug him off, and this is when wesker knows he should intervene. you haven't decorated your desk, or tried to scare anyone, or even mentioned halloween once, so he takes it upon himself to start the spirit for you
he's a little embarrassed to walk into the office with a halloween themed coffee cup, but Jill and Chris had gotten in on it as well, and they told him it was the simplest way for him to maintain his dignity. he always thought he was above such things as holidays and traditions and oh god, costumes, but your small smile when you see his cup on his desk makes it worth it.
chris and jill are much more obvious though. chris scares the hell out of you with a wolf mask when you round a corner. he screams like a child when you accidentally pour your hot tea down his chest, but it makes you laugh so hard the whole office lights up at chris' expense.
Jill just wore a with hat, creeping up behind you at your desk to force one on your head as well, and it nearly makes you cry. you couldn't explain how down you felt this year, how impossible it seemed to be excited for something you usually loved. your team seemed to know without words that you needed a boost.
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dervampireprince · 9 months ago
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ASMR | Marvel - Logan Howlett x Listener SFW Convincing Logan He Deserves You
[M4A] [Established friendship] [Feelings confession] [Insecure, low self worth Logan] [Main timeline X-Men Movie Logan, takes place in the mansion, implied you're a fellow mutant and X-Men member] [You call Logan 'babygirl'] [No seriously you do] [First kiss] [Also ambiguous enough that instead of yourself you could imagine some of the Logan ships of your choice eg Morph, Kurt, etc, he's being too nice to you to really imagine Wade]
I did my best okay, I am incapable of growling, I don't know why but I literally cannot growl, and without the growliness I'm not sure if Logan sounds like Logan but I tried. I'd been thinking of voicing him for weeks since I've always loved him and I've loved seeing the flurry of art and fics for him after Deadpool & Wolverine's release. But I felt too insecure about my voice and dysphoric to try and voice a big, beefy, gruff man... But a Patreon member requested it and we've talked a lot about Logan in our Discord server and I just deicded I wanted to try.
So be nice, bear in mind this is a trans guy who's not on T trying to do this voice, I am sort of scared that new people will find this audio and pick on my voice or dislike that I'm trans but we'll deal with that if it happens, hopefully it doesn't but I've had my fair share of horrible experiences with Marvel fans. Though, am loving when people headcannon/draw/write Logan as a trans man, that's been really meaningful to see. I think most characters that get headcannoned as trans men can often be shorter, slimmer, more androgynous men and it's less often we see big, beefy, stereotypically masculine characters get the trans headcannons with with both Logan and the Call of Duty boys getting those headcannons sometimes it's been really nice to see.
Anyway, this was based on a Patreon request, Mothy asked "also this is only if u want bc i know u like Wolverine, maybe comforting Logan from a nightmare ??? OR just a general confess feelings and he’s scared he wont be able to protect u but ur like “no bbg ily”"
No time to draw the thumbnail as I'm doing a lot of work in a short time as I'll be away for most of October (but you won't notice a difference as you'll still be getting 3 audios a week as usual) so no time to get this one draw, this is an image from the first X-Men film.
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Old public spicy audios on sound gasm (link in pinned post). 2 Exclusive spicy audios on Patreon every month. I also stream on Twitch every week @ dervampireprince . [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit any of my content]
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oopsallgoalies · 1 year ago
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Snitches Get Stitches: Prologue
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Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe
Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?
Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, car accident, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.
Word Count: 1.3k
A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.
Series Masterlist // Next Chapter
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Two weeks out from the end of your fellowship should have felt better. Fifteen years of work and you were so close to the finish line that you could taste it. You’d worked your ass off, topped your classes over and over, sacrificing every bit of your social life, sleep, and general welfare to guarantee that you’d have your choice of job once you came out the other end, and you had. That was at least until three months ago when everything came crashing down. A misunderstanding, a miscalculation, something that felt so far beyond your control and the past fifteen years had been swept out from under your feet. Now you refreshed your email in desperation instead of excitement. You were sitting on a dragon’s hoard of student loans and not a single job offer. The downside of being at one of the top fellowship programs in the country was ironically the same as the upside, they were extremely well-connected. As a result, you were basically blacklisted by every potential employer.
Anyone else would question how you did it, getting out of bed like nothing was wrong and going to your fellowship with a professional smile plastered on your face as if everything was right with the world and you’d be on your way to the first day of your dream job in just two short weeks. It turns out that delusion is highly motivating. You’d refresh your email every morning as if an offer was going to suddenly appear, then go about your day as if maybe this evening something would show. At least that’s how most days went. Today everything that could have gone wrong, had. Your alarm hadn’t gone off because your phone was dead, your charging cord seemingly having given up its last breath sometime over the last twenty-four hours. Then the hot water had been out, for the third time this month, so you were shivering like a drowned sewer rat as you hauled yourself into your car, running too late to make your tea.
Even the Anaheim sun couldn’t seem to warm you as you pulled onto the highway toward Los Angeles. Not even five minutes later a piercing chime sounded through the vehicle and your dismayed gaze fell on your gas light, shining bright since last night, when you had been far too exhausted to brave a seedy gas station in the dark, relegating it as a “tomorrow problem.” Tomorrow was here and you swore defeatedly as you made your way to the next exit, issuing irritated commands at your phone to find the nearest gas station. You swore your whole attention was on the road as you did your best to follow the monotone directions from your speakers as you pulled into the gas station when the motorcycle flashed across your field of vision, fast but not fast enough. You screamed as your brain caught up to the sight in front of you. You don’t remember putting the car into park in the middle of the entry to the gas station and vaulting out of the vehicle, burying your panic as you go into doctor mode, rushing to the aid of the driver sitting up on the asphalt.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, sir are you alright? I’m a doctor.” You sputtered as he turned to look at you, a rueful smile on his face.
“Oh, no worries, Doc, I’m all good.” He scratched the back of his neck as he looked over to his motorcycle which lay abandoned a few feet away. “I need to remember I’m not twenty-five anymore.”
“Sir I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist that I check to see if you have a concussion.” You glanced around, searching for something. “Especially since you weren’t wearing a helmet.” You couldn’t help the annoyed purse of your lips. He chuckled, nodding as you squat down next to him, fiddling with your phone to turn on the flashlight.
“So, you’re a doctor, huh kid? What kind, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Sports medicine, and I mean yes I’m a doctor, I’ve graduated from medical school, but I’m still finishing up my fellowship so I’m not employed as one yet per se.” You sat back on your heels, satisfied that he really was alright. His eyes brightened at your words.
“Sports medicine? What sport are you working with?”
“I’ve worked with a bunch of different ones through my fellowship but my dream job is hockey.” If you ever got a job that was.
His face split into a huge grin. “You don’t say? When do you finish your fellowship?”
“Two weeks… why?” You suddenly remembered that this man was a total stranger as his questions became more specific. It was at that moment that your brain finally exited doctor mode that you realized that he was in fact not a total stranger, not really and you recognized exactly who was sitting on the concrete not even five feet from you. “Oh my fucking god, you’re Pete Mitchell.” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a rush before you could stop them. He barked out a laugh as he extended a dusty hand to you.
“The one and only.” You stared at his hand like you were wondering if it was safe to touch, which is ridiculous. You worked with star athletes for a living and you’ve never gotten star-struck. But that was within the four walls of your job, where you were completely and totally in doctor mode, not squatting in the driveway of a gas station. You shook your head, unsure of how long you’d left him hanging before taking his outstretched hand and shaking it, introducing yourself. “It feels ridiculous to ask, but are you an Anaheim fan?” He asked, flashing his signature grin. You flush, embarrassed.
“They’re my second favorite but my dad’s a ride-or-die.” Pete laughed at your brutal honesty. “But, I mean, everyone who’s everyone knows you.” You sputtered. “You have one of the longest records in the NHL. 26 years is a long time, and with three cups on top of that? You’re practically hockey royalty.” He smiled, seemingly amused with your floundering.
He stood then, helping you up with him. “Could I get your information?”
“Oh yeah, of course. I’m so sorry about your bike, is it good to drive?” You gave the abandoned motorcycle a worried look. “I’m sure my insurance can cover whatever repairs you need.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” He shook his head gently, laying a fatherly hand on your arm. “I actually wanted to offer you a job. Well, an interview, I’m not actually authorized to offer you a job, not my department.”
“I mean I did hit you with my car, WAIT WHAT?” The full effect of his words hit you like a truck. He laughed again.
“Sweetheart, I promise you I can take care of the damages,” giving you his best I’m a multimillionaire retired athlete look. “And as for the job? I’m serious. You’re clearly responsible, professional, good in a crisis, and the team I’m working with is looking for a physician. Unless of course you’re already committed to another job?”
“No! Uh, no, no I’m not.” Shame crept up your neck. “I really appreciate this, Mr. Mitchell.” You stammered as you fumbled for your wallet and produced a business card that you offered to him, doing your best to hold back the tears of gratefulness threatening to fill your eyes.
“It’s not a problem at all, Doc. I’ll be in touch, and please, call me Mav.” He handed you a piece of paper in return and you stared down to see his signature scrawled across it with a brief note Congratulations on such a talented daughter. - Pete “Maverick” Mitchell “Tell your dad I said hi.” He said with a wink before turning away from you to his motorcycle. You stood there, frozen in shock as he got the bike upright and drove away with a wave. The moment he was out of view, the tears escaped your eyes. You’d been desperate for someone to take a chance on you, but never in your wildest dreams would you have expected that person would be Pete fucking Mitchell.
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justdrawlynn11 · 5 months ago
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Hey guys I did some math-
I was looking back at details from and about Ruin’s dimension- and I fell down a rabbit hole- as I typically do with time differences in between dimensions-
To make it simpler:
Ruin’s dimension
Our/Majority Tsbs Dimension
So at first I was curious on how long between the first time Sun had visited Ruin’s home dimension and the second time in the second October takeover occurred. Sun visited in July the first time and the second time was (obviously) in October, so around 3 months. In the October takeover we learned that most of October is equivalent to about a week in Ruin’s dimension.
Warning: There’s quite a bit of math-
Let’s say around 3 weeks(or just a majority of a month) in our dimension is equivalent to 1 week in Ruin’s, 3 months for us would be just around 3-4 weeks in Ruin’s dimension.
I was THEN curious for how long it took since we first ever saw his dimension for it to be considered dead (or at least for when his Creator died, you know what I mean-). I guesstimate that his dimension officially died in either our February or early March last year at the MOST, as it died before Ruin killed 5000 dimensions. That would be around 7 months, which would equate to 9 weeks.
I was like: “That’s a short amount of time for the wither storm to kill the dimension, but maybe it just worked quickly-”
AND THEN I REALIZED SOMETHING-
How long HAD Ruin’s Creator been in the council if it’d already been 50 years? Because something feels like it isn’t adding up with our Creator’s age- you know, THE ONE WHO STARTED THE COUNCIL-
So I started doing even MORE math-
(3 months will just equal 4 weeks from now on for convenience sake)
4 weeks every 3 months, leading to 16 weeks every year, but I’m adding an extra week for any possible extra days throughout the year. So it’s 17 weeks every year.
For 1 year in Ruin’s dimension, 3 years and a little less than a month have to have passed in the tsams dimension.
(Around 52 weeks a year. 17 • 3 = 51. Add in 1 week and we have ourselves a year)
NOW we multiply the 3 years & 3 weeks by the 50 years!
But how? Well..
(Idk how to do a repeating sign on numbers on here so I’m just explaining my process- the decimals are far too long at points)
1/12 = 0.083(3 repeating)
0.083(3 repeating)/4 = 0.02083(3 repeating)
0.02083(3 repeating) • 3 = 0.0625
The 0.083(3 repeating) is 1 month, I divided that by 4 to get 0.02083(3 repeating) for every week. Multiply that by 3 to get to the decimal for most of a month, 0.0625. A whole number is a year(ex: 1, 2, 3).
Adding 3 to 0.0625 will leave us with 3.0625.
Now we multiply that by 50 to get our time estimate for how long 50 years over there was for us.
3.0625 • 50 = 153.125 years.
153 years and 6 weeks(not counting any leap years/days into that). That’s how long the 50 years was for us. Their Creator had to have been on that council for at LEAST that long…
But our Creator, the one who STARTED the council, isn’t that old on the character wiki-
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I’m sorry if my math is wrong in some way. I just fell down a rabbit hole and wanna share it-
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satoruuswife · 8 months ago
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~𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾
The bane of my existence ~{rewrite}
‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵
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‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵
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Status: Ongoing
summary:You’re a 17-year-old girl, who just entered her second year at jujutsu tech, your technique is spider threads, which are sharp threads which seemingly can cut through anything and everything, here you experience the hell that a jujutsu sorcerer has to go through, watching a loved one leave or abandoning a loved one due to circumstances not within your control, let's see what your future holds?
characters: Satoru gojo, Shoko Leiri, Utahime Iori, Suguru geto(kenjaku as well), Nanami(n) Kento, Masamichi yaga, Okkotsu Yuta, brief mention of Naoya Zenin, basically all the first and second years as well
pairings: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader, brief mention of naoya x reader, small mention of suguru x reader
CW: fluff, angst, maybe smut in the upcoming parts, contains manga spoilers, jerk! gojo, mentions being bullied, the use of pet names, the rest I will add as I keep writing.
words: 2.6k ish? sorry, writer's block
Masterlist
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Late spring 2007
{Reader’s pov}
It was a surprisingly warm afternoon, considering it was the middle of October going on. Strolling around campus with no missions and no higher-up breathing down your neck was an unusual occurrence, especially with the surge of curses roaming about recently, other than you there was no sorcerer in sight it was a little off-putting as there were no classes supposed to be held today as the most of the students were on missions already, but nevertheless, the peace was appreciatable.
until it was not,
smack!
a basketball hits the back of your head causing you to stumble forward, wincing at the contact you turn around to see Satoru, peering at you from where the basketball came from with a shit-eating grin.
if the phrase “toot one’s own horn” were a person it would surely be this dumbass
“Sorry shortcake didn't see you there” he yells, snickering beside a sighing apologetic Suguru who comes to your aid. he pulls Satoru with him, holding him by the ear while lecturing him on how not to be an asshole.
“At least someone’s an adult between the two”, you think. in your eyes, geto had always been an understanding, ethical gentleman who always looked out for everyone. other than Shoko and Nanami he was the only individual you could stand being near for more than 5 minutes. you genuinely enjoyed his company but were forced to leave after a certain period due to his annoying shadow, namely Satoru Gojo.
Despicable, despicable was the word you would describe Satoru Gojo with. he was a pain in the ass always looking for excuses to disturb your peace and torment you ever since the day you joined. he is borderline a stalker as he seems to be everywhere you go on “accident”.
tch some accident
as Suguru helps you up, you notice Satoru just staring at the exchange with a shit-eating grin, as if thinking of more ways to make your life miserable.
——————————————————————————————————
{Satoru’s pov}
It was afternoon, a surprisingly warm one considering it was the middle of October going on and arguably the most uneventful one this week. No Yaga or higher-up breathing down my neck, no curse to be eradicated, there was no one on campus, no one of interest that is……….or so I thought.
Suguru and I were playing basketball, the score was going 3-2. obviously, I was in the lead but before I could toot my own horn, Suguru rushed past me and scored. 1 couldn’t fret no, not for long that is.
Contrary to my assumption, there indeed was an object of interest on campus, a short and attitude-filled one walking by. I grin to myself as I intercept the ball after Suguru’s basket and “accidentally
lost control of the ball and flung it at her.
Now now, I'm not that big of a jerk. I hadn’t meant for it to hit her as hard as it did, I was only hoping it would brush past her and rile her up. I watched as Suguru ran to help her and unexpectedly dragged me by the ear with him., “Sorry shortcake didn't see you there” I yelled as Suguru bit my ear off.
All my guilt disappeared as soon as I saw that cute familiar little scowl directed at me, I grinned at her then stuck my tongue out, “All that lack of height for what? if the ball still reaches you.” I snicker and she scoffs at that, now clinging to Suguru’s arm who looked ready to kill me.
“Well, I've got a brain to compensate for my lack of brawn, you wouldn’t get it since you don’t have one” she huffs at me as she dusts her uniform and thanks Suguru for helping her.
I chuckle as she walks away from me, dusting her dress and limping
——————————————————————————————————
{a little backstory}
reader and Satoru joined jujutsu high at almost the same time, reader was recruited after having exorcised a special grade curse in her town’s local nursery, the curse had been eating the children who went to the bathroom unsupervised, it had arisen due to the mothers constantly worrying for their children’s safety, reader was working part-time at that nursery when she went to use the washroom and the curse mistook her for a child and tried to attack her, on the verge of death reader blacked out ad woke up to the curse being tied up with…. mysterious threads? which seemed to be arising from her fingertips,
she was spotted by Suguru who had been fascinated by her ability and brought her to jujutsu high and had her enrolled. Since the incident, she has always been a little too fond of Suguru.
{present}
——————————————————————————————————
{reader’s pov}
tch
who did he think he was making fun of my height when his own IQ was that of a five-year-old child, his look and physique may have been gifted to him by the gods but his shitty mouth sure did make up for it and god does he need to up his teasing game? He teases like a primary school child would despite being 17.
Thank heavens for his angel counterpart, Suguru. I'm sure he is the only sane person on campus everyone else including myself is a little cuckoo in the head. I really hope everyone especially Suguru stay with me, together. As for jujutsu sorcerers, there is no guarantee that the average person is a friend or a foe.
how naive I was
He also seems to be the lifeline of Gojo that has kept him from going insane, he really is the best counterpart for that annoying little shit.
I snicker to myself as I make my way to the infirmary to see Shoko, “what’s got you so giggly today?” she asks as I plop down on the infirmary bed.
,” Nothing just had an incident with the devil-duo” I reply snickering, “ Suguru really is caring, the exact opposite of that dumbass, Satoru” I sigh as I pull up my skirt to reveal the wound by my thigh from the fall.
Shoko makes light work of fixing it up as she peers at me with a grin on her face and squiggly eyebrows, “what?” I ask and she giggles, “ I think you like Suguru” she replies and I go silent.
Wait do I like Suguru? no that can’t be, it's just admiration. yeah admiration
——————————————————————————————————
That night, I’m called by Suguru to the water fountain,
,”something the matter?” I ask as i sit down beside him on the rim of the fountain, he looks at me with those purple eyes of his for a moment, then turns his head away sighing.
,”first and foremost, I’m sorry about the way Satoru treated you this morning” he says,
I tch and reply, “you don’t need to apologise for that asshole, it’s fine” i giggle and he smiles.
Turning to me he says, “y/n, what would you do if i were to ditch the jujutsu society, would you run with me or stay” i gulp.
,”ah, wouldn’t that make us traitors? I wish to follow you till the end but committing a crime isn’t on my bucket list” i snicker and he frowns which goes unnoticed by me.
He holds my hand and leads me off the rim,
“What are you doing?” I ask and he flashes me a boyish grin,
“Dance with me” i smiles and proceed to put my arms on his shoulders,
“Why so suddenly? If you don’t mind me asking” as we sway in the evening breeze,
“Im not so sure ill be here soon” he whispers but i laugh it off and he chuckles with me too,
“Dumbass” i grin then blush as i see him leaning closer,
“W-what’s going on?” I stammer out, “can i kiss you?” He replies while leaning in, leaving a hair’s breadth of space between our faces, i gulp
“A-Are you sure?t-this isn’t a prank is it?” He laughs and closes the distance,
Then to my dismay i wake up, flushed red and hyperventilating, sighing i gold my head in my hands,
“What is wrong with me god” i call Shoko and proceed to yap about my dream to which she snickers and drops a not so subtle “i told you so”.
——————————————————————————————————
late summer 2007
It was the onset of fall, young couples could be seen everywhere and anywhere holding hands and doing cute stuff, wearing matching outfits and all that but all I could do was pass by with my latte clutched in my hands as I walked by them to the jujutsu high grounds, already expecting a headache having spotted a nuisance namely Satoru already waiting by the doors for me.
,” Whatchu got there cupcake?” snatches the latte from her and takes a sip,” ew this is bitter”
scowls and snatches it back from him,” Gross now it's infected with your germs, yuck” tosses it into the trashcan in front of him while he looks at her like a puppy kicked to the curb by its owner.
,” What?”
, pouting “You’re so mean to me”
, scrunched her nose “Satoru we both know who’s mean to who” he smirked at that “Now go get a girlfriend to bother or something cause I resign, god”.
he was about to say something but I slipped away having spotted our classmates playing truth and dare by the lockers, guess you could say I was in luck cause it was just Suguru's turn and,
I landed a date.
A DATE WITH SUGURU FREAKING GETO.
I mean he was dared to take me out buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, a win is a win. now here I stood, in a frilly dress with the biggest smile on my face outside my dorm waiting for Suguru to show up, he was running late by 2 hours but it's fine right? must’ve been caught up exorcising a curse. Yeah, that’s definitely it.
I wore a purple summer dress to match his eyes and black heels to go with it,’ I should make an effort to dress up,’ I thought, ‘as the person I'm going out with is a literal dreamboat. ‘ another hour passes by as I wait for him on the porch of the jujutsu high dorms, after awhile I decided to ask his prick counterpart.
I stare at the contact named “Satoru” as I hesitantly press the call;
,” Hello?”
,” Guess it's my lucky day, look who decided to call me
, rolls her eyes before clearing her throat “Is Suguru around?”
“I thought he was with you?”
“I mean he is supposed to be but he isn’t”
“Really? But he left like 4 hours ago, what is dear princess feeling lonely without her prince charming?” his smirk could be heard in his voice
exasperated sigh,” Thanks for nothing jerk, hope someone kills you in your sleep”
“aw we both know you love me” snickers now making kissing noises
“yuck” hangs up
proceeds to wait another three hours before going to sleep, then eventually gives up and goes to sleep leaving him a text,
me: where are you Suguru? are you okay? it’s fine if you’re not ready to take me out just where are you?
Apparently, He didn’t show up
not to our date not to the Jujutsu tech campus
——————————————————————————————————
It was a huge uproar as geto Suguru, a special grade sorcerer (and of course, my date but the higher-ups don’t know that) had apparently betrayed jujutsu high and was nowhere to be found. He had killed all the villagers in the village he was sent to survey and fled with 2 orphans who were mistreated there.
usual Suguru, of course, he felt bad for those girls……………….. Wait what? he killed an entire village? Suguru? the gentlest person to have ever set foot on this planet? Geto Suguru? our Suguru? That can’t be right……..right?
——————————————————————————————————
I stare at the reports in horror as reality sets in, Suguru had really annihilated that village and fled with not so much as a word to any of us and was declared a heinous criminal by the higher-ups.
I frantically paced around the room trying to control my breathing, I was about to have a panic attack, recently there had also been a huge surge in cases around the Kyoto region and one of us was supposed to be relocated there today, it was probably going to be Suguru but not anymore.
I picked up various reports, clutching the table as I could feel tears strumming down my cheeks while looking around at the pictures of us that Yaga had hung up, reports that lay around me in hopes that I read wrong or it was a prank but it wasn’t,
‘it can't be true right? no, they are lying to me,’ I think quivering, as I collapse on the floor clutching my chest, holding back sobs. Heaving, I wobble to the nearest restroom and stumble over, kneeling next to the toilet seat, puking clutching its sides while crying, “m-my dream, i-its wasn’t just a dream but a warning ” i stammer out, banging my head on the wall beside the seat.
I stand up and look at my fucked up state in the mirror above the sink, hair a mess, no mascara or liner running down my face since it was six in the morning and hadn’t even gotten the chance to get ready yet, I look at my horrendous state in the mirror as I think about the impact it would have on everyone else, mainly Satoru, how now he would be forced to shoulder the burden of being stronger than the rest alone, the burden of handling most of the jujutsu world and-
My thoughts get interrupted soon by a knock at my door, as I fumble to look presentable I yell,
,” Who is it?” I
“it's me, y/n” I could make out my principal’s voice, “ may I come in?”
, sighs “Yes, feel free” as I try to tidy myself,
Principal Yaga quietly enters the room, looks at my dishevelled state with a pitiful look and,
tch
gives me oh-so-wonderful news,
I was the one being relocated to Kyoto.
——————————————————————————————————
how is Satoru? why are you being relocated? why right now when your friend's need you? what about Satoru? will he be okay? what about Shoko? why? why was this happening?
there were too many unanswered questions and no time to think as the higher-up's decision was final and was set to completion immediately. guess we'll see next time yeah?
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‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
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sorry this is short, it's rushed because well the request had been chilling for about a month in my inbox and I felt guilty for not writing, I barely have time this month [exams}but I'll try to post more frequently.
masterlist
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mohannadadham · 10 months ago
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Urgent Help Dalia's family Evacuate & Treat her parents
Plz Read Dr dalia Story:
Hello World , it's Dalia. Please read this as if I'm a member of your family . maybe your sister, daughter or a friend and as if my family who's under death now is yours.
My name is Dalia and this is my story. I am 27 years old, a laboratory doctor, and a graphic and website designer, also a private lessons teacher. Before October 7th, I had a beautiful and peaceful life with my family. I had ambition and many dreams. I was working in Al Shifa Laboratory and had an office for my design work as well as private student groups. But now everything has changed. What happened to us is a nightmare. I lost everything at once, my home and my work in all its aspects. We are repeatedly displaced between danger and death.
I am the older sister and my family is a trust in my neck, and I work hard to ask for help in our survival.
since the beginning of the war, from October 7 until today. We spent the first week of the war in Gaza. During this short period, we were exposed to many bombings and damages, and we were hit by rocket fragments as a result of close-in shelling. After that, On October 13, they asked us to forcefully evacuate the area due to its danger and go to southern Gaza. We went to Al-Shifa Hospital while we were living in a nightmare, extreme danger, and a devastating war. We remained there for a week and were subjected to siege and bombing. We did not have mattresses or pillows for our heads, and we had no drinking water، no Food, and nothing. We were sleeping on the ground between the feet of passers-by and the blood of the wounded. We were suffering from the pollution of the place. This is my picture in Al-Shifa Hospital, sleeping on the floor.
Since the war on Gaza began, it has lost almost everything In January, I lost 33 members of my family in one second to a single missile that ended their lives. I also lost my only uncle who died due to not receiving treatment and I do not want to lose anyone else.
As for me, I am a laboratory doctor, a graphic and website designer, and also a private lessons teacher. Before October 7th, I was living a beautiful and peaceful life with my family، I had ambition and many dreams. I was working in the Al-Shifa laboratory, which was bombed, and I lost my job there, also I had an office for private design work that was also bombed. What happened to us is a nightmare. I lost everything at once, my home and my work in all its aspects, my dreams and ambitions, and I became without a home, work, and clothes because we did not take anything from our house before it was bombed.
Before the war, my life was about successes and achievements. This picture is one of my design works that was displayed in one of the streets of Norway for a BBQ restaurant. I had a dream to reach the international level with my works and successes, but the occupation killed me and my dreams and everything before I arrived.
My work also designs perfume posters for a Saudi store, and I lost all of my work due to the war.
But my mother suffered the most, who had a hysterectomy 4 days before the war because of a tumor. She was sleeping on the floor and using a contaminated bathroom, which led to infection of the wound, bleeding, health complications, and a loss of 25 kilograms of weight. To this day, we have not been able to know the outcome of the tumor that was inside the uterus, and my mother also suffers from platinum in her spine due to the weakness of her vertebrae. She also suffers from a herniated disc in her neck, which poses a threat to her spine, She needs urgent surgery and is suffering from a lot of pain because she sleeps on the floor instead of a medical bed.
My mother also suffers from rheumatoid arthritis, asthma, and most importantly multiple sclerosis, in addition to being diagnosed with undifferentiated connective tissue disease and heart failure. She suffers from urinary excretion disorders, and needs urgent travel for treatment. Here is the medical report and diagnosis on her condition.
My father also suffers from heart disease, high blood pressure, and diabetes. Two months before the war, he underwent heart surgery due to 99% blockage of the arteries. His heart stopped twice during the operation. He stayed in intensive care for a month, and because of the war, he did not receive treatment for 8 months, which led to a severe deterioration in his health condition, and he suffered a severe heart attack that would have ended his life. He was unable to receive treatment due to the lack of medical equipment. My father took an echocardiogram on the floor without the patient’s bed.
My father also suffered a serious stroke a month ago due to his health condition deteriorating significantly. Please help me save their lives. I don't want to lose my father as I lost my only uncle who died in the war due to illness and not receiving treatment. I spend long hours with my father in his non-existent treatment. There is no medicine, no care, no treatment, no lunch, no meat, no protein. What we eat includes packaged foods, which cause many diseases.
My heart is torn apart in pain. My parents are the most precious things in my life and they are my whole life, I am the eldest daughter of my family and I have all the responsibility on my shoulders. I can no longer bear all this oppression and pain. Please help me, I need you, You are my only hope to save me and my family.
You can donate to DR Dalia and Her Family in GoFundme: click here
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little-winter-witch · 6 months ago
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🍁Finally warm🍁
A Duskwood/Moonvale fanfiction. It was inspired by this artwork, which is not from me, but a random Internet find. If someone knows where it's from, please let me know, so I can give credits.
Also, English is not my native language, so please be patient with mistakes.
Contains a lot of love and fluff, but it's also‼️NSFW / 18+‼️
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It was a cold and rainy October evening. You sat on your couch in your apartment, wrapped up in a warm blanket. A hot, steaming cup of tea was placed on your coffee table and thick woolen socks were supposed to keep your feet warm. But somehow nothing really worked. A slight shiver went down your legs, when you raised your body up to get the teacup. The wind outside was getting heavier. You could hear it howl around the building. You shivered again, but this time not from the cold. The rain, pelting against the windows because of the storm and the darkness outside gave you an eerie feeling.
youtube
Maybe you want to listen to this while reading for more immersion.
You looked at your phone, for the hundredth time that evening. No new messages from your new friends from Redlog yet. The fact, that you're involved in the case of a missing person, again, didn't help with that uncomfortable feeling. Especially since you've been waiting for a message from your friends from Duskwood for weeks now. The clock on your phone showed 11:47 p.m. For a brief moment you thought about just going to bed. But knowing, that you wouldn't fall asleep anyway, you decided against it and turned on the TV to distract yourself.
Knock knock.
You nearly jumped from the couch. That sounded as if it came from your balcony door. After a short moment of being petrified, you turned your head to the dark view of your balcony. Blackness and raindrops. You knew, that your fear was ridiculous. Your apartment was on the third floor and there was a heavy rain storm outside. You forced your eyes back to the TV screen and tried to calm your beating heart. What was wrong with you? You remembered the unknown number that had texted you. Someone had been out there, with Eric in the woods and asked you, if you weren't scared all alone. It hadn't been your first threatening message. You remembered how Richy as the man without a face tried to scare you away. It didn't keep you from helping the others, and this time, it was no different. But Richy hadn't really planned to hurt you. What if the person behind those new messages was different? Knew where you were? This time, you didn't have a trustworthy hacker by your side. While sipping on your tea you thought about Nymos. Did it still protect your phone?
Knock knock.
That was no coincidence. Your hands started shaking and you almost spilled the tea. This was a new feeling. Pure fear. But of what? There was nothing there! You placed the teacup back on the coffee table and covered yourself with the blanket, like it was some kind of magical protective cloak. Then you headed towards the balcony door. Slowly and shaking. There! On your balcony! You saw a dark silhouette, possibly male. The head was hooded and you couldn't see a face. You felt your heart almost bursting from your chest. Without turning away you grabbed an empty vase from the windowsill, took it by the bottleneck and placed your other hand on the door handle, breathing heavily. The door opened with a click. I swung it open, holding the vase above my head, ready to hit whomever might be there.
"MC...?"
I froze again and stared at the dark figure in front of me. It came closer, lifting the hood to reveal the face. In the light from behind me I could see him. A tall young man with black hair and blue eyes. Rain dripped from his bangs and he looked at you, uncertain. You could see, that he didn't know how to react or what to say. A shy smile formed on his lips. Slowly you lowered the vase and put it back on the windowsill without looking away. No. It couldn't be. The freezing storm pushed you back to reality. The man in front of you was completely soaked and within the short time you've been standing in the open door, you started to get wet as well. You wanted to ask him. Ask him for his name, to give you a sign that he was who you thought he was. Who you hoped he was.
"MC, it's me."
The young man spoke calmly, but you heard a slight tremble in his voice. It was a deep and comfortable voice and in a brief moment of insanity you found it so relaxing, that you wanted him to read books to you. Then you snapped out of it, jumped forward and just pulled him into your arms. He didn't need to tell you his name. You already knew it. He hugged you back. Slowly, but surely. And you pushed your face into his rain soaked chest, sobbing and crying. You were happy. You were relieved. It felt like a dream.
"MC? It's... It's really cold."
Slowly you pulled away and suddenly didn't dare to look at him anymore. Something had moved inside your stomach. You just realized what was happening here and who you'd just hugged. You nodded, grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the balcony door and inside. Then you closed the door firmly and there you were. Two lovers who'd never seen each other or talked to each other in person, soaked from the rain storm and awkwardly standing in the living room without knowing what to say. Your fear was gone. But the nervousness was almost unbearable.
"You should warm up first.", you managed to say and without looking at him, you headed towards the bathroom. Your nightly visitor didn't follow you. When you turned around, you saw why. He pulled off his wet shoes first and put them next to the balcony door. You couldn't help but smile. When Jake turned to you, to follow you eventually, your eyes met. Heat flushed through your cheeks and your heart started to race. With shaky hands you opened the bathroom door and asked him inside.
"Here, take off your clothes and take a hot shower. You can wear my bathrobe if you like, I'm afraid it's the only thing I possess that might fit you."
Jake came into the bathroom and looked almost longingly at the shower. You gave him some fresh towels which he took thankfully and left him alone to get some dry clothes for yourself. Standing in front of your closet, you got another problem. What should you wear? Nothing hot or seducing of course, but... Pajamas? After looking through your wardrobe a dozen times you could finally decide. Some leggings and an oversized sweater, that easily could've been a dress. Your woolen socks were wet as well, so you swapped them for new ones. Afterwards you went to the kitchen to make another pot of tea, took it to the coffee table and waited for Jake to leave the bathroom.
You waited quite some time. You could only guess what a hot shower must have meant to him, not knowing when the last time was that he was able to take one. But then you heard the water stop and the blow dryer being used. Just a few minutes later he came out of the bathroom. He was wearing your bathrobe and you suddenly came to realize, that if his underwear was also wet, he could be naked beneath.
"Thank you. That really helped.", he said and walked towards you. With hot cheeks you couldn't directly look at him again and pointed to the couch on which you were already sitting.
"I made some tea.", you said and nodded towards the teapot before offering him your blanket. Shyly he sat down, took the blanket and wrapped himself up. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the TV which you hadn't turned off, when you went to the balcony. Then, you couldn't take it anymore. You just had to ask.
"How have you been? What happened? How did you escape? How did you find me? And how on earth did you get up there?"
Your eyes got teary again. You had flashbacks from Ricky's call, from your last conversation with Alan Bloomgate and from the explosion in the ironsplinter mine.
"I missed you.", you added, almost inaudible.
Jake stayed silent for a few seconds. Then he looked at your phone.
"Nymos.", he answered. "It didn't only protect you. It also found you. And I'm pretty good at climbing."
He didn't answer the rest. And although you really wanted to know what happened, you accepted his decision. Maybe it was traumatic. Maybe he didn't want to ruin your first meeting with bad memories. Maybe he just wasn't ready yet.
You shivered again. Jake had your blanket now and your time on the balcony hadn't been helpful with your freezing. Jake seemed to notice what was going on. He lifted the blanket on your side. "Wanna share?"
Again, you felt that your cheeks were getting warmer and your stomach started to tingle. With a shy smile you crawled to him and let him cover the both of you with the blanket. When your body touched his side, it felt like an electric shock. Your breathing got faster and heavier, but also shakier. You were really thankful that the TV was still running, because it gave you a reason to just stare straight ahead. Jake was warm and he smelled really good. You felt every movement, how his shoulders went up and down by his breathing. Despite all your nervousness, you started to get a special feeling of safety.
Jake's left hand, that had been resting on his leg beneath the blanket, slowly found your right hand which had done the same. First, just your pinky fingers intertwined. Without looking at each other, you let your hands explore each other beneath the fabric. You could feel, that his warm hand was bigger than yours and his long and slender fingers tenderly played with your smaller ones.
"I missed you, too.", Jake said, almost as inaudible as you, but you still heard it. His hand gripped yours tightly. "I missed you so much. Every day. Every night. I could barely think of anything else."
You leaned on his shoulder and nuzzled your face into his arm. A mixture of Jake's scent and your own shampoo reached your nose. His head moved to the side and rested on yours. That way you sat there for a few minutes, just savoring each other. But his warmth, being so close to him and his scent had slowly awakened something inside of you. A deep, strong urge that's been there since you were texting about meeting each other in person for the first time. And now, that he was finally here, being so close to you and saying all those things to you, your resistance against it started to fall apart. Slowly you lifted your head up, your face wandering up, closer to his. Your heart was racing, your stomach tingling and your breathing short and heavy. Jake seemed to notice your movements. He lifted his head as well and turned his face towards you. Your noses were only millimeters away from each other and for the first time your eyes really met. They were beautiful, but also full of uncertainty. His cheeks were red and his breathing as heavy as yours. Slowly, your faces got closer to each other. Your eyes were exploring every corner of the other's face, but always returning to the lips. Tenderly, you stroke your noses against each other's.
"May I k...", Jake started, but you didn't let him finish. The last hint, that he wanted the same was enough for you to go the next step. He took a deep breath in, when your lips finally crushed down on his, and you could feel how nervous he was. Your lips played with each other and explored each other, and when you pulled away, both of you were breathless and shaking because of what just had happened. You wanted more, and you could see that he wanted more as well. But he was so restrained.
"Are you okay?", you asked and pulled away from his hand to be able to turn your upper body towards him. He nodded.
"Yes. This is... You are... Better than all I imagined. I'm just... Not the most experienced guy, you know? Being a hacker is not exactly the best way to meet women."
"Well, it brought you to me, so I think it's perfect.", you said and pulled him into a hug. "So you haven't ever..."
He shook his head. You couldn't help but smile. You pushed yourself back on his shoulders and looked in his eyes. This time, it was already much easier.
"Don't worry. That is not a problem at all. I am so happy that you are here. That you are safe. That you are finally with me. Let's just enjoy this, without any pressure."
He nodded and smiled shyly but relieved and this time, it was him who pulled you in for a kiss. When you reached out to grab his shoulder during your kiss, you noticed, that your bathrobe had loosened and instead of grabbing the fabric, you grabbed his bare shoulder. You couldn't help but let your hand wander around, while your lips were still playing with each other, and feel his skin under your fingers. You could feel, that he was getting goosebumps by your touch and his hands also started to move. The blanket had already fallen to the ground and the man in the late night news on the TV didn't reach any of you.
Tenderly, you let your hand wander, from his shoulder to his chest. Jake stopped kissing you and leaned his forehead against yours. He had his eyes closed and was breathing heavily. His left hand rested on your neck, while the right hand had tried to find an entrance in your sweatshirt.
"I'm sorry. It's just so overwhelming. I've never felt this way before. And I never felt this urge before, to do.... Things. Indecent things. But now, I do."
There they were again, those tingles in your stomach. You lifted your right hand and stroked his warm, red cheek tenderly.
"You know, maybe I would be disappointed if you wouldn't.", you answered. Jake couldn't help but grin and chuckle silently.
"I don't want to disappoint you. Or worse. I could hurt you.", he said.
"You won't."
Jake opened his eyes and looked directly into yours, surprised and flustered by your answer.
"I would lay my life into your hands.", you explained. "And I love you. You already know that."
Jake nodded slightly. "I know. I read that message all over again and again. Because I love you, too."
"You don't have to prove anything to me, Jake. You don't need to perform and you don't need to be embarassed. All I want is to be close to you." With this words, you lay your hand on his chest, right above is heart. "I want to feel you and make you fell good. Who cares if you're experienced or not? You are here and you are mine. That's all that matters."
Jake's face had a deep red tone, but he didn't pull away. You could feel, that your words of affirmation had started both relief and tension. He wanted you and your words had weakened his fear and increased his desire. But he still was hesitant. You freed yourself from his grasp, raised from the couch, turned off the TV, took his and and pulled a completely flustered Jake into your bedroom where you pushed him tendlerly on your bed. Your bathrobe had opened on the way and you coud see his almost naked body with a visible bulge in his underpants. Although your heart was racing as fast as his, you felt like you had to guide him a little. Smiling, you sat down next to him and nuzzled your forehead into his cheek.
"Just do, what you think is right. What you feel is right. Relax and give in. You are not gonna hurt me or disappoint me. And I know you'll stop, if something was uncomfortable and I say so.", you whispered. "As long as you're here with me, and let me feel you, I'm happy."
Jake suddenly snapped out of his flustered trance, took your face into both hands and slammed his lips on yours. You just gave him the permission he longed for. You didn't know, if you were laying down on purpose, or if he had pushed you with a kiss, but it didn't matter. Slowly you sank into your bed, Jake in his open bathrobe above you. Your kiss got wilder, more passionate. You could feel, that he let himself dive into the desire he felt for you for so long. His left hand started looking for an entrance to get beneath your sweater and it was succesful. Jake started caressing your upper thighs and your stomach, getting dangerously close to your braless breasts. You wanted him to touch you there, wanted him to play with them, just you had imagined, when you dared to fantasize about him before falling asleep. His strokes came closer and closer, touching them for a brief moment. He wanted it, but you could sense how nervous he was.
"It feels good.", you whispered between your kisses to reassure him and his hand finally took the last step. When his fingers touched your nipple, it felt like he had finally scratched an unbearable itch. The tingling between your legs increased and you came to realize how aroused you already was, because Jake was finally there, touching your body and kissing your lips. He gatherered more courage and changed from stroking over your nipple to taking it between his fingers. You let out a slight moan and he started to rub a little harder. He was reading you. He didn't have any experience, yes, but that didn't mean he wasn't smart. He was a hacker who solved a crime with you, after all. You came to realize that he wasn't just giving into his own wishes. He was experimenting. And learning.
You throw your arms around his neck und pushed them beneath the bathrobe to grab his back. Your hips had started to gyrate and you longed for something to grind on. The unbearable itch was now between your legs. Your winding beneath his hands seemed to encourage Jake. His lips left yours and wandered down your neck, leaving a trail of tender kisses on their way. Then he pulled up your sweater until he had your boobs exposed. You felt a little embarassed, when he looked at you, but you could see how much he adored you, looking at you lovingly with hooded eyes and red cheeks, and you trusted him. His lips now found your breasts. He kissed around your nipples first, before touching them with his lips and... tongue! He started sucking and your back arched. Again, you couldn't help but moan. Your sudden movement had given you a slightly cool sensation between your legs and you realized that your panties were already dripping.
Jake lay down next to you. You looked at him, breathing heavily. His face came back to yours and your lips found each other, while he let his hand wander from your nipple to your stomach, where it met your pants. Your excitement grew, as he carefully slipped his fingers into your leggings and panties. And then, his fingers finally reached your most sensitive spot. You moaned against his lips, immediately grinding against him to find relief and pleasure. Jake started experimenting again. It felt like he was analyzing your every reaction on every movement and touch to find the perfect spot, pace and intensity. And he found it. Maybe the heat of the moment, your general arousal, the long teasing, his scent and your deep love and desire for him were helping him, but Jake soon managed to make you a winding, moaning mess. His ring and index finger had parted your lips, while his middle finger rubbed your exposed clit at a high pace, so softly that sometimes you could barely feel it, but everytime you did, it was like a soft electric shock, without hurting you by overstimulation.
When you felt your climax getting closer and closer, you stopped him.
"Please. I want the end to be... different.", you gasped. Jake was suprised, but nodded. Quickly you removed your leggings and undies and pushed Jake into the pillows. Your lust had removed any last bit of nervousness. Jake's cheek flushed in a deep red and he panted, when you grabed his boxers to remove it.
"I...!", he began, seemingly embarassed of his exposed penis, but you didn't give him enough time for that, since you had to act quickly to not lose his efforts. You wanted to come, but you wanted to feel him inside you in the meantime and him to feel good, too.
Without any further ado, you climbed on his lap and placed his tip on your entrance.
"MC!", gasped Jake and clung his fingers into the sheets. You were wet, you were aroused, you had been extremely close to climax and you needed him to be inside you. So you moved down and his penis dived into you effortless. Jake let out a deep moan, his eyes were wide open. Now it was your turn. You bowed down to him and while kissing his neck, shoulders and lips, you moved your hips heavily, chasing after the orgasm you had already almost reached. Jake had deepend his fingers even more into the sheets, while he let you to be in charge.
Your bedroom was filled with whimpering moans by you, desperately riding your boyfriend, by deep and flustered moans by your boyfriend who was overwhelmed by his own pleasure and the rainstorm that hit your windows relentlessly.
Finally you felt this well-known sensation, that you had given yourself in the past many times while thinking of Jake.
"MC, I.. can't take it much longer, it... it feels so good!", Jake panted. His words were enough to push you over the edge.
"Jake, I'm.. coming!"
Your body arched when the orgasm hit you and you could feel your muscles pumping and pulsating around him. Jake had started to thrust into you, since he wasn't able to control himself anymore.
"MC! MC! MCcccc!", he gasped with every time he breathed out while breathing faster and faster. The last time he said your name, he thrusted into you one last time and it was your turn to feel him pumping and pulsating. You gave him some time to catch his breath and come back to his senses. Then you carefully stood up and gave Jake a kiss on the cheek.
"I'll go get cleaned, okay?", you asked and he nodded. You went to the bathroom, used your toilet and cleaned your lady parts. When you returned, Jake had fallen asleep just the way you left him. Naked, with his arms still in your open bathrobe.
You let out a chuckle and covered him with your blanket before crawling next to him. Jake opened his eyes slightly and looked at you. A tender smile appeared on his face.
"That was.. you are... amazing.", he murmured and you smiled back at him.
"You too.", you whispered and kissed him tenderly. He turned his body to you and offered his open arms. You lay down on his arm and nuzzled your back into his chest. Jake held you tightly.
"Good night. I love you", you said.
"Good night. I.. love you, too.", Jake murmured almost asleep again.
You looked out of the window, where the rainstorm was still hitting the glass, savoring this intimate moment, slowly getting more and more tired. You could feel Jake's breathing, felt his body and smelled his scent. Your thoughts wandered off to what you just had experienced with him and you slowly dozed off.
You were happy. You were finally warm.
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eddiexmunsonlover · 1 year ago
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One Step Away From You (Chapter 5)
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BSF!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Fem!Reader
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Chapter Summary: It's your 18th birthday and you celebrate by going to get a new piercing with Robin, and a small get together with your friends at Steve's house. This is just a mostly fluffy, light, and fun chapter after all the angst and heaviness of the previous ones. WC: 7.1K Warnings: MDNI. Explicit language. Underage drinking. Brief mentions of toxic parents, alcoholism.
Saturday, October 12th, 1985
“A-Are you sure you want me to go with you for this??” You can hear the panic in Robin’s voice over the phone, making you smile as you imagine her pacing around her bedroom with a white knuckle grip on the phone.
“Yes, Robbie. I want you to come with me.”
“But it won’t be like, weird? Given my… ya know”
“Robin, you know that doesn’t bother me. Besides, who else could I possibly ask? Not Steve or Eddie… for obvious reasons. Nancy and I aren’t close enough for me to ask her. You, however, are one of my closest friends.” 
You hear her release a short exhale before she responds.
“Okay, as long as you don’t think having me there will be weird.”
“Oh my god Robin, it won’t be weird as long as you don’t make it weird!” You laugh out and smile when you hear a small laugh in return, breaking through her anxious energy.
“Okay, okay. I promise, no weird stuff.”
“Good, I’ll pick you up in 15!”
You roll over to your bedside table to hang up the phone, huffing before you get out of bed to get dressed. You throw on a pair of leggings and a baggy t-shirt. You glance in your mirror, deciding to keep your hair in a bun and go barefaced, knowing you’d have time to come back and get ready before your party at Steve’s later.
As soon as you walk out of your bedroom door, your mom flashes you a smile and comes to wrap you in a hug. 
“Happy birthday, sweetie” she speaks softly through the embrace. “Finally 18!” 
She pulls back and notices the purse on your shoulder and keys in hand. “Where are you heading?”
“I’m just going out with Robin for a bit, I’ll be back before my party at Steve’s later.”
“Alright, you wanna open your gift first before you go?” 
You spot the gift bag on the coffee table and nod before beginning to pull out the stuffing paper, mind wondering what she could’ve gotten you. 
Maybe a new pair of boots? Some new guitar strings? Some new cassettes or VHS tapes? 
Your excitement falters when you spot the neon colored clothing. You force the smile to remain on your face, choosing to avoid an argument as you pull the neon green sweater out of the bag and hold it up. “Do you like it?!”
“Oh yeah, for sure!” You try your best to feign genuine excitement, unsure how effective it actually is.
“Promise you’ll actually wear it? Wouldn’t hurt to dress more like a girl…”
“Yes, mom. Thank you!” You answer quickly, flashing a smile her way before neatly folding the sweater and putting it back into the bag. That seems to satisfy her as she hums in agreement before turning to walk back to the kitchen.
As soon as the gift is back where you found it, you quickly leave the trailer. Groaning and rolling your eyes as soon as the front door shuts and you saunter down the steps to your truck.
Can’t even keep the nitpicking at bay for my birthday, let alone give me a gift I’d actually like.
Your mom’s not all bad. She does a lot for you and you know her heart is mostly in the right place, but her executions of showing care and concern for you often have the opposite effect, coming out critical and scrutinizing. 
You shake off the interaction, not wanting it to hamper on the good day you plan to have as you back out your driveway to pick Robin up. Smiling as you look over to Eddie’s trailer before pulling out of Forest Hills.
It’s been almost 3 weeks since the night on the playground when Eddie forgave you, allowing your close friendship to resume. You had intended to take it slow at first, let you both take time to warm up to each other again, but after a few days it was almost as if nothing had happened. Like no time at all had passed, let alone almost 3 years. You can’t really say you’re surprised considering how close you and Eddie were before the move, but you hadn’t expected your friendship to go back to ‘normal’ so quickly. You and Eddie fell back into the comfortable rhythm of your friendship, your usual banter and inside jokes quickly resuming. 
You’d even started joining the Hellfire table at lunch in the past week, though you haven’t accepted the invite to join the club just yet. You’d hung out a few times at his trailer too, listening to albums that’d come out in the time you’ve been gone and playing songs together on your guitars like you used to, only now you shared a joint while doing so. 
You sigh in content as you drive down Hawkins backroads to Robin’s house. You’ve been happier in the past 3 weeks than you have in the past 3 years. Everything feels like it’s finally come together.
You eye the brick building in a stretch of businesses on the outskirts of Hawkins as you park the truck. Tattoos and Piercings displayed in big orange letters in the front window. A mixture of excitement and nervousness fills your stomach as you turn to Robin with a smile. Forcing back a laugh as you see her nervously biting her bottom lip as she warily eyes the shop.
“Come on, let’s go!” you encourage as you hop out of the truck. Robin shortly catches up to your quick strides as you cross the street.
“W-What if the piercer is like, a major creep? Maybe we should have done like a background check or something first…” 
“Well what do you think I have you here for? I need a protector… for my hoo haa’s” you tease her playfully, a devilish smirk pulling at your lips as she looks at you wide-eyed. “Robin, everything will be fine. You don’t have to come back with me if you don’t want to.”
She shakes her head quickly, taking a deep breath as she faces the shop door.
“Nope, we’ve got this. I got your back, or well uh…” Her eyes briefly glance down to your chest before quickly looking back to the shop. “nevermind.” 
She opens the tattoo shop door, letting you go in first. For a Saturday business is slow, only one other customer inside getting tattooed. You approach the front desk where a middle aged man with shaggy hair greets you. You tell him what piercing you want and give him your ID, quickly signing the waiver for piercing and aftercare information and handing over cash for payment. With all formalities settled, he leads you and Robin to a room in the back of the shop.
“Alright uh, just go ahead and remove your shirt and bra.” He states, turning his back to you as he gathers his needles and cleaning supplies. Once you’ve taken off your upper layers and wait for him to begin, you look next to you to see Robin’s back is also towards you, standing rigidly as she faces the wall. Eyeing the seemingly very interesting cracks and chips in the wall’s red paint. You snicker at the sight.
“Rob, you can look ya know. You promised you wouldn’t make it weird.” 
“Right, right.” She says quickly as she turns around, eyes refusing to meet you or your exposed chest, deciding to now stare at the wall opposite of you. You shake your head at her as the piercer turns around and walks toward you.
“Alright, I’m gonna mark with a pen where I’ll pierce, then you can look in a mirror to make sure it looks alright.” 
He does as said, marking both sides of both your nipples, ensuring they look even before backing away so you can check for yourself in the mirror. Satisfied at the placement, you nod at him before sitting on the laid back chair.
“Good, now go ahead and lay back and I’ll get started.”
“Have you uh-pierced many nipples before?” Robin asks with a high-pitched squeak as she watches him bring over his tray of supplies.
He gives her an exhausted look before answering, “This ain’t my first rodeo, hun.”
She purses her lips, nodding her head at his answer as she continues looking around the room at anywhere but you.
“Alright, I’m sure you can imagine this is gonna hurt a bit.”
“Uh, Robin?” you ask as you extend a hand out to her, “Gonna need some support here.”
“Oh, right!” She answers after a moment, quickly taking your hand as her eyes finally meet yours, refusing to stray further south as she mouths a ‘sorry!”.
“Take a deep breath aaaand exhale”
As you exhale, a sharp pain spreads through your left nipple. You yelp out something like a mixture of a loud moan and scream, quickly grabbing Robin’s hand tightly. Curiosity gets the best of her and she finally looks, eyes going wide and mouth falling open at the sight.
“First one done, best to do the second one right away while you still got the adrenaline kick.” He states as he maneuvers to the other side of you, forcing Robin to shimmy over to the side he just occupied.
“Give me another deep breath”
You squeeze both Robin’s hand and your eyes shut as you take another inhale and exhale, a duller pain spreading through your other nipple. After some more deep breaths, you’re greeted with the news that you’re all finished.
You sit up fully, wiping your eyes as you stand and walk over to the mirror. A big smile creeps onto your face as you look at your newly pierced nipples. You’ve never felt particularly confident about your breasts. They aren’t big but they aren’t little either. You never felt like they were anything special. Ever since you first saw an image of a woman with her nipples pierced in a tattoo magazine your older cousin had a year ago, the image and idea of doing the same to your own hasn’t left your mind since.
As you eye yourself and your chest in the mirror, the new addition to your nipples gives you the boost of confidence you hoped it would. You turn around to face Robin.
“What do you think? Do they look good?”
Her head moves like a bobble head, nodding and shaking in every direction as she stares at your chest before looking up to meet your eyes.
“Uh yup. They look great” She muses, putting extra emphasis on the ‘p’.
You carefully put your bra back on, taking extra caution not to hit or snag the new barbells adorning your breasts. 
After a few minutes you and Robin are back in your truck and pulling onto the road. After making a quick stop for at the gas station for slushies, you head down the route to drop Robin back off at her house before Steve comes to grab her for help in setting up for your party.
Between sips of cherry slushies and singing along to Easy Lover by Phil Collins and Philip Bailey, Robin speaks up.
“You know, I think this whole ordeal has really added another layer to our friendship. Brought us closer, you know?” You smirk in response to her comment, and to the reaction you know your next words will elicit.
“Oh yeah, I mean now you’ve seen my tits and you now know what I sound like in bed.” you muse nonchalantly, failing to hold back the shit-eating grin plastered on your face.
“OH MY GOD” she groans loudly, covering her face with her hands as you cackle in satisfaction.
~
Eddie’s already waiting for you, leaning against your truck with a lit cigarette in hand as you shut your front door behind you.
“There’s the birthday girl!” he yells with a bright smile on his face. You roll your eyes but are unable to hide the blush on your cheeks and soft smile as you approach him.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart” he hums softly as he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. 
“Thanks, Eds” You return the embrace, never tiring of the feeling of his body against yours, long arms wrapping around your frame. You gladly ignore the soreness of your chest as it presses against his. You let yourself inhale his scent, the faint smell of apples from his shampoo, cigarettes, and musky cologne flood your senses. You sigh softly at the intoxicating smell and feeling of him against you before you break from the embrace.
“Ready to party?” He asks with a cheeky smile.
“Hell yeah, hop in” He jogs over to the passenger side as you turn the ignition. 
Within 10 minutes, you’re pulling into Steve’s driveway, parking next to his car. Thankfully, it happens to be one of the many weekends that Steve’s parents are out of town, leaving the house to all of your friends to have a nice little get-together for your birthday. It’s nothing short of a miracle that you, Steve, and Robin managed to get a Saturday off together too. You can only imagine what they had to do to convince Keith to cover their shift.
“So this is Harrington’s humble abode huh?” Eddie mumbles with a hint of sarcasm as you begin walking up the driveway.
“Best behavior, Munson. Remember?” Eddie scoffs in response.
“I am always on my best behavior, thank you.”
“Who are you trying to fool?” you tease back playfully as you open the front door and let yourself in.
You look around the empty living room, eyeing some liters of soda sitting out on the kitchen counter. As Eddie looks around curiously, you notice shadows and hushed voices near the sliding glass door to the backyard. As you open the door, you’re immediately greeted with a chorus of shouts, “Happy birthday!” 
You hate being the center of attention, but you can’t help but smile and laugh as you look at the smiling faces of your friends, Steve, Robin, Dustin, Mike, and Lucas all waiting to celebrate you. You step out onto the back porch with Eddie following behind. 
“Thank you, guys. This is so sweet!” You gush as your eyes look around, catching the Happy Birthday banner and table filled with snacks and drinks. You go to greet your friends one by one starting with Steve who already has an arm outstretched for a hug. You gladly abide, giving him a hug as you thank him for hosting and the effort he’s put in, leading him to scoff lightly in response.
“Of course, Y/N. I’m glad to.” 
You move to hug Robin, who hesitates for a second as she eyes your chest.
“I said don’t make it weird or obvious” you whisper through your teeth, staring at her wide eyed. She moves into action, quickly pulling you into a hug a little too eagerly to make up for her hesitation. “Don’t make it hurt either, goddamn.” you wince before you both laugh. 
You move on to the younger boys whom Eddie has already joined and squeeze their shoulders lovingly.
“I’m glad you turds are here too.” you tease as you smile brightly, spurring groans and eye rolls from them.
“Okay, that’s offensive.” Mike states matter-of-factly before breaking out into a smile. 
You wish Max would be here to celebrate with you all. You invited her, but when she heard of who all would be here, she quickly fumbled her way to an excuse, a commitment she made to her mom. You don’t hold it against her, but still, as you look among all your friends, her absence is noticeable. 
After a little while of mingling and snacking, Steve suggests a game of soccer, corralling all the boys out into the backyard. You and Robin sit at the edge of the porch, watching as the boys run around the yard, snacking on chips, and listening to your mixtape playing on the stereo.
“So uh, how do they feel?” She asks quietly. You peek a look at her as you pop a chip in your mouth. 
“They fuckin burn is how they feel.” you sigh, watching as Dustin begins to accuse Steve of playing dirty.
“Burn?! I-is that normal?” She nearly chokes on her chips, causing you to laugh as you shake your head.
“I don’t know, Rob. I’m sure it’s fine” you shrug as she looks lost in thought and you’re sure, anxiety. 
“Hey Y/N! Why don’t you come join us!” Dustin shouts out to you.
“Yeah, you too Rob come on!” Steve adds as his chest heaves slightly, hands on his hips.
“No, absolutely not.” Robin states plainly.
“Eh, I don’t know”
“Oh come on, don’t be chickenshits!” Dustin exclaims, causing your eyebrows to raise as you give him an ‘oh really?’ look.
“I think I’m totally fine with being a chicken.” Robin states unphased, looking at you. You share a look with her before standing up.
“Hold my beer.” You say as you begin walking out to meet the boys in the yard.
“But you’re not even drinking a…” Robin begins as you walk away, completely lost, joke flying over her head and landing somewhere in the front yard.
You fall into a 3v3 game; Steve, Eddie and you vs. Dustin, Mike, and Lucas, despite the latter's complaints of it being unfair. You’re not athletic and never considered yourself a fan of sports, but you find yourself having fun and laughing as you kick the soccer ball around and between each other. Not to mention you joined this game with a mission, make Dustin eat his words. Having Steve and Eddie on your team helps, their tall stature and long limbs aiding in bypassing the younger boys’ attempts to intercept the ball. When Steve kicks the ball toward you, you don’t hesitate. Kicking the ball as hard as you can, going airborne in Eddie’s direction for him to secure a goal. Only Mike’s big ass head gets in the way. You have to turn away to try to stifle your laughter when you see and hear the soccer ball audibly thunk! against the side of his head.
“Ow!” he exclaims dramatically, hand holding the side of his head. You bite back your laughter as you face him, the snickering laughter from everyone else doing little to help.
“I’m sorry, bud. You were in the way!”
“In the way?!!” he shrieks in response, leaving you to only shrug apologetically. 
“Alright, walk it off. Don’t be dramatic. Here, we’ll even give you the ball!” Steve attempts to mediate, his offer seemingly settling Mike as the younger boys get back in formation. It does little to help though, as Steve shortly reclaims the ball for your team. 
A moment later you’re all huddled close with the ball stuck being kicked around in the middle, waiting for someone to manage to kick it out. In a moment of an innocent mistake and careless obliviousness, Dustin accidently pushes back against you and elbows your chest as his attention and body follows the movement of the ball. 
Your face scrunches in pain and your hand shoots out to grip the back of Dustin’s shirt. The rest of the boys go on unfazed, the distraction allowing an opening for Steve to kick the ball out of the circle. You take a deep breath before opening your eyes and meeting Dustin’s wide-eyed gaze, knowing he’s in deep shit. 
“Oh, you better run.” You whisper with a sinister smile on your face. You loosen your grip enough to let Dustin pull away and get a head start as he sprints off before you set off after him. After Steve scores another goal for your team, everyone watches in amusement as you briefly chase Dustin around the yard. You may be a bigger girl and not the most athletic, but you can still run pretty damn fast when you want to.
“Who’s the chickenshit now?!” you yell out teasingly as you begin to gain distance on him, holding back your laughter as he screeches out “I’m sorry”s. When you’re close enough, you wrap your arms around his midsection, lifting and spinning him around in circles as he screams, before you put him down and give him a good noogie. After you both regain your breath, you wrap your arm around his shoulder and give it a light squeeze before you walk back to rejoin the group.
“Well I guess that’s a good point to end it on,” Steve begins as he laughs softly. “a 6 to 2 victory!” 
“A proper victory for the birthday girl.” Eddie smiles at you. You give him a bashful curtsey in return, making him laugh before you all return to the porch to lay back and relax.
You and Eddie sit next to each other on one of Steve’s outdoor loveseat chairs, smirking as the younger boys bicker about the soccer game. Eddie lights up a joint, taking a hit before passing it to you. Extending his arm to rest behind your head.
“Listen, you little shits lost fair and square.” Eddie states with a self-satisfied smile.
“Yeah, well I’d wonder who’d win if the two oldest and tallest people here weren’t on the same team.” Lucas pushes.
“Yeah, a rematch of sorts” Dustin adds in agreement. Causing you to laugh as you exhale your hit.
“That’s about as much running as you’ll get out of me for the next month so, maybe next time fellas.” You state simply with a smile. 
The conversation thankfully changes topic as you and Eddie continue sharing his joint. You let your head rest back gently against his arm as you relax from your physical exertion, letting the small touch ground and soothe you as you look around, watching your friends happily. Steve steps out of the house with a platter full of hamburger patties and hotdogs ready to be grilled. You smirk at the image of Steve standing at the smoking grill, in Dad at a cookout mode.
“Only thing missing is a ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron.” you quip toward Robin, whose eyes follow yours before breaking out into a giggle with you.
“Oh, I’m definitely getting him that for Christmas.” she hums in amusement.
Everyone is buzzing in conversation and light-hearted laughs with each other as music plays in the background. The beginning of a particular song catches your attention. Lucas’s eyes turn to meet yours at the exact moment yours turn to look at him as Let’s Groove by Earth, Wind, and Fire begins to play. Neither of you can resist the temptation, standing from your seats to sing and dance along together. Smiling and laughing as you break out into a half choreographed dance you’d done many times before. 
In the years prior, you’d loved babysitting Lucas and Erica the most. Beyond Lucas’s well-mannered but playful attitude with you and the similar sass as you that Erica embodied, going through Mr and Mrs. Sinclair’s collection of funk and RnB records was one of your favorite things. That, and the 3 of you spending all afternoon coming up with your own dances to the songs, often mimicking moves you’d seen on Soul Train. Everyone is all smiles as Dustin decides to join, doing his own rendition of the robot dance as he slots in next to you two.
Eddie watches the scene from his seat. It’s honestly heartwarming for him to witness first-hand the relationship you have with the younger boys. How you handle their attitudes and join in on their antics. Watching as you take on the fun but sassy older sister role gives him hope he can have a similar close friendship with them too, given his own still new but growing friendship with the new members of the club. 
At first, he tries not to let his eyes linger on you too much, not wanting his desire for you to be so obvious. But your body is calling out to him, pulling his eyes back to you as he watches your hips sway, the jiggle of your thick thighs, and with the way you shake your ass Eddie swears he’s going to die on the spot. He’s all of a sudden getting hot, and the already cooling temperatures from the quickly setting sun can’t be to blame. The slightest movement in his jeans sends him scurrying inside for a ‘bathroom break’ as he pleads to the gods there aren’t any more dance songs on the rest of your mixtape.
When the song ends and the boys sit down to take a breather, you venture over to Steve who is intently focused on the hot dogs and burgers sizzling on the grill. You take a sip from the can of Cola you carry before clearing your throat.
“So uh, how’s your wieners looking, Steve?” You hold back a laugh as you see the spatula he holds go still and his head slowly turns to look at you, giving you a ‘really?’ look as you stare at him with a coy grin. You hear a snicker from Dustin before he joins in.
“Hehe yeah, Steve. Are they nice and juicy?” he asks, sending the other boys into a giggling fit as Steve groans.
“Ah great, look at what you’ve started!” he says to you dramatically in a serious tone, but the slight upturn of the side of his mouth doesn’t fool you, breaking out into a full blown smile when you poke his side. 
You stand there with him, teasing him with comments like “Oooh, nice flip there” every time he turns over a burger. Shimmying and singing I Can’t Go For That to each other when it starts to play, a tradition of sorts started during numerous car rides before.
When Eddie returns from the bathroom, he spots you and Steve at the grill, standing particularly close, singing to each other. He can’t deny the ping of jealousy he feels at the sight. Suspicions of what kind of friendship you and Steve have exactly continues to brew ever since he first saw you in the Hawkins parking lot with him. He decides it’s time for a drink, grabbing a can of beer from the 6 pack he brought out of the cooler and resuming his previous seat. He’s thankful when the boys pull him into a DnD conversation that keeps his eyes from lingering on you two.
When the burgers and hotdogs are done, everyone digs in. The early evening hour and soccer game working up everyone’s appetite. After the food is all settled and everyone involved in conversation, you feel a light nudge at your side from Eddie, who greets you with a smile.
“Drink for the birthday girl?” He asks, a cold unopened beer in hand pointed toward you. You hesitate for a second as you eye the can, never having drank alcohol before. Growing up with your Dad had been enough to keep you away from it.
“Come on, you’re in a safe place with friends.” Eddie gently probes.
“Yeah, you know the spare room’s open for you too, don’t have to worry about going anywhere.” Steve adds. 
You notice that Steve and Robin are already sipping on their own beers and with one last look back at Eddie you decide to let your guard down. Nodding at him as you take the beer from his hands and open it.
“Hey, can I have one too?” Mike asks enthusiastically, “I mean what safer place to do it than here?”
“Nice try, Wheeler. I don’t think so.” Steve quickly answers before taking a sip from his own beer. You hear the boys’ groans in the background as you take your first sip, Eddie’s eyes watching you before your face turns and you stick out your tongue.
“Ugh, that tastes like shit!” You’re met with laughter by the 3 older teens, “How the hell do you drink this?”
“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”
“Well it certainly isn’t good.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve got some rum and pineapple juice inside. I could make you a sweet drink?” Steve offers as he’s already rising from his seat to go inside.
“As long as it tastes better than this!”
And that it does. You hum in approval at the first sip, barely noticing the faint taste of alcohol over the sweet flavor of pineapple juice.
As the sun finally sets and a cool breeze flows through the air, the group moves out into the back yard where Steve has set up wood for a bonfire. Steve, ever the Dad of the group, comes prepared with supplies for s'mores. Insisting there had to be some kind of dessert considering you didn't want the traditional cake and candles, not wanting your friends to make too much fuss over you.
You bask in the warmth of the bright flames, aiding in the warmth already flowing through your body from the alcohol as you move on to your 2nd drink. That warmth grows as you look around at your friends circled around the campfire, smiles on their faces as they roast marshmallows that end up sticking to their lips, and Lucas dramatically telling his best rendition of a ghost story to the group. 
What a perfect day. This is everything you could ask for for your birthday. Nothing extravagant. Just quality time with your favorite people in this world. 
You let your eyes linger on Eddie as he watches and laughs along to Lucas’s story. Watching the flickering warm glow and shadows that the fire casts on his face. You admire the dimples in his cheeks and his plump, pink lips. His warm chocolate eyes as they look to meet yours, feeling your eyes on him. You blush and smile back at him, hoping the alcohol in your system and warmth from the fire are good enough cover for your red cheeks as you tune back into Lucas’s story. 
After a while the younger boys opt for going inside to set up their blankets and pillows in the living room and watch tv before bed.
Now on your 3rd drink, you’re feeling what you assume people call ‘tipsy’ at this point. 
“Goodnight, Dusty bun! Goodnight, Mikey! Goodnight, Lukie! Don’t let the bed bugs bite!” You call out lovingly after them as they walk the short distance back to the house.
“Dusty bun, huh?” Eddie asks curiously with a cheeky smile.
Steve almost excitedly spurs into telling Eddie about Dustin’s girlfriend in Utah, and their favorite song from The Neverending Story. You smile as you watch them interact. You’d initially been worried about having the two together, once being on opposite ends of the social hierarchy at Hawkins High. But given Steve’s personal growth over the past few years, you knew it was a matter of time before Eddie warmed up to him and saw him for who he is now, not the “King Steve” he’d known before.
You fish out a cigarette from your pack and light it, sinking into your chair as you take the first inhale. Your eyes shoot open as you hear the opening bass line to one of your favorite songs, Eyes Without a Face by Billy Idol.
“Oh my god I love this song!” you practically whine, standing up from your seat to dance along, eliciting a laugh from Steve. 
“Uh yeah, we know. You only insisted on playing it every time we’d go for late night drives this summer.” He smirks as he takes another drink from his beer.
“Uh yeah, because it’s one of the best songs ever!” you insist as if it’s obvious before you move a step away from the fire, hips swaying with the beat. Drink in one hand, cigarette in the other.
“I will admit it has grown on me.” Robin adds looking at Steve before smiling as she watches you. 
I’m all out of hope
One more bad break
Could bring a fall
You sing along as your body moves with the beat, putting your cigarette in your mouth to let your fingers play along to the bass line and guitar solo on your air guitar. You can really feel the alcohol now, the way your limbs feel both heavy and light at the same time as you move through the cool breeze, the giddy and sentimental energy flowing through you.
“Oh Robbie, come join me!” you plead, motioning her to you with your free hand. You’re lucky she’s just drunk enough to agree and join you in her best attempt at dancing along. Eddie and Steve watch with bright smiles, Eddie’s heart warming at the sight. 
He didn’t think his feelings for you could deepen any more, but here you are once again proving him wrong. Watching you be so carefree and playful, the way you passionately sing along to every word, the sway of your hips. He can’t get enough.
It’s all gone too soon as the song ends, leaving you pouting before you pull Robin in for a hug. The alcohol also working to numb your nipples, you discover.
“I love you, Robbie. Thanks for coming with me today.” You mumble in her ear as you embrace her tightly.
“Anytime.” she whispers back, returning your embrace.
“I love all of you guys” you say as you turn back to face the two boys sitting by the fire, only slurring your words slightly. “This has been the best birthday ever.”
You give a lopsided smile as you walk to Steve’s side and wrap your arms around him.
“Thank you, Stevie. So so much.” you mutter into his side as he laughs softly, rubbing your arm.
“Anytime, hun.”
You stumble slightly, losing your footing as you pull away from his hug. 
“I’m good, all good!” You slur as you steady, putting your arms up and giggling.
“Maybe it’s time we call it a night, the fire’s starting to die anyway.” Steve suggests as he sees how much the alcohol is hitting you. You groan and pout in response but ultimately agree when your body continues to sway as you stand in place, Steve asking Eddie if he can take you inside.
“It’s the first bedroom on the right up the stairs.” 
“Come on, princess. Let’s get you to bed.” Eddie says softly as he wraps an arm around your waist to support you, fingers lightly digging into the soft flesh there. You smile, giggling to yourself at the pet name as you put your arm around his shoulder, letting him lead you into the house and up the stairs.
As soon as you catch sight of the bed you plop face down on it, sighing in pleasure as you nuzzle your face against the soft pillow, eliciting an airy laugh from Eddie. You turn on your side to peek at him.
“Who you laughing at?”
“You, silly. You gonna sleep with no covers on?” He asks, motioning to the comforter you’re laying on top of. You groan in annoyance before standing up, quickly flipping up the comforter and crawling underneath and settling back in. You watch as Eddie takes off his vest and jacket, laying them on the end of the bed before going back downstairs to get you a glass of water.
You sigh and find yourself staring at the wall as your body sinks into the bed. You think back over your good day spent with your friends, and finally having your first drink to celebrate your 18th birthday. You aren’t sure what triggers it, but your mood quickly takes a turn as you begin to hear inklings of your mom’s voice in your head. Warnings and cautions thrown at you over the years about drinking, about your Dad. Pressures to be responsible and not follow in your father’s footsteps.
You need to be careful. Alcoholism runs in the family, you know.
You don’t want to end up like him.
The thoughts weigh on you heavily, worry and guilt quickly overtaking your mind. You’re so consumed by it you don’t hear Eddie’s footsteps coming up the stairs, only taking in his presence when you see his jeans enter your vision as he stands in front of you, putting the glass of water down on the bedside table. At first he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep, until he looks down at your face and notices the look in your eyes as you stare off in the distance and the frown set on your lips. He quickly squats down to be face level with you, eyes searching your face as his hand reaches out for your shoulder.
“Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” 
You take a shaky inhale before you look at his worried face.
“W-We’re not gonna end up like our Dads are we?” you ask quietly, sadness seeping through your tone as you look deeply into his eyes.
He looks at you confused before it hits him. 
“Hey hey. No.” he reassures you, softly rubbing his hand up and down your bicep. “Just because you let yourself have fun and drink a bit with your friends doesn’t mean you’re going to be like your Dad, okay?” He watches as your expression begins to soften, taking in his words. “And you tell that little voice in your head to fuck off alright?” You give him the exact reaction he wanted, breaking out into a smile and giggling at his words. 
He always knows how to make you feel better. His reassurance and touch helps to calm your worries, but as you look into his eyes, guilt hits you again at your own words. Your insinuation that Eddie could end up like his father. You shake your head at the realization.
“That was a silly thing to say, I’m sorry.” Eddie watches you as one of your hands reaches out to his face. His breath hitching as he feels the pads of your fingers graze his cheek, moving strands of hair out of his face and tucking them behind his ear. “You could never be like him, Eds. You’re too good.” 
Eddie stares into your eyes for a moment. Your words, your touch, the look in your eyes as you stare into his has a grip on his heart, squeezing it as he’s overcome with it all. He struggled to believe those same words when he told it to himself, but hearing them fall from your lips is different. Helps him to believe it’s true. That, and the way you always saw him, when all anyone else in town saw when they looked at him was Al Munson. Casting a shadow over him. A shadow you’re familiar with. 
He smiles softly at you before looking down at the floor, taking a deep breath and gulping before he speaks.
“I know you uh- said no presents but I’ve got something for you.”
He looks up to meet your eyes again, taking in your curious look before he reaches his hands behind his neck and unclasps his necklace, holding it out to you. Your mouth falls open at the gesture, eyeing his red and black guitar pick necklace he’s worn for years that’s now resting in his hand, outstretched toward you. Your heart flutters at the sight.
“E-Eddie, your necklace?”
“I want you to have it, so you’ll always have a piece of me with you. Honestly should’ve given it to you a long time ago but, better late than never.” He offers you a shy smile. 
You quickly sit up and wrap your arms around him as you try to stop your bottom lip from quivering at the sentimental gesture, the alcohol making it much harder to do so. There’s so much you want to say, so many thoughts running through your head but none of the words meet your lips. You’re left speechless as Eddie returns your embrace before he pulls back and stands up, putting the necklace around your neck and clasping it in place. You look down at the pick now resting against your chest, your thumb caressing it.
“Thank you, Eddie. It means alot to me.” you gush as you look up at him, mimicking the wide smile already on his face.
“No need to thank me, sweetheart. Looks better on you anyway.” 
You roll your eyes at him before resting your head back on the pillow, fingers still lingering on the pick around your neck.
“Alright, I’ll let you get some rest.” He sighs before walking to the end of the bed. When he reaches for his vest and jacket, you speak up.
“Wait… why don’t you just stay in here with me tonight?” He stares at you for a moment, mouth hanging open slightly as he thinks of your proposition. “I mean, unless you want to sleep on the floor with the kids in the living room. Come on, it’ll be like old times.” 
He caves in a little too quickly, giving you a nod and a soft smile as he moves his vest and jacket to a chair in the corner of the room. He turns off the bedroom light before walking over to the other side of the bed. You’re ashamed at the little wave of excitement that rushes over you when you hear the metal clink of him undoing his belt buckle, undressing down to his boxers before he climbs in under the covers next to you.
You settle into the bed facing each other, sighing in content as you get comfortable. Though you aren’t touching, you can already feel the warmth radiating from his body inches away. It isn’t long before you’re slipping under, dozing off into a deep sleep as one hand grips the guitar pick hanging from your new necklace.
Eddie’s fingers twitch at the close distance to you. Watching you through the faint moonlight shining through the window as you drift off to sleep. Though it’s not the first time you've fallen asleep next to each other, it’s the first time you’ve done it in years. The same thoughts and temptations he’d held at each sleepover before haven’t changed now. 
He wants nothing more than to caress your bare skin and pull your body against his. Rest his head on top of yours and inhale the scent of your shampoo as his hand softly rubs your back, soothing you to sleep. 
He lays there watching you, wondering if he’ll ever get the chance to do it. Wondering if he’ll ever have the guts to tell you how he feels and make you his. If you even want him like that. If you even see him as anything more than just your best friend.
He sighs before settling into his spot in the bed, deciding that being here with you like this is enough, for now.
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phanfictioncatalogue · 16 days ago
Text
2020!Phan (2) Masterlist
part one
archenemies (ao3) - antiadvil
Summary: “You have a mortal enemy?” Phil said. “And it’s not me?”
the words they use to describe their relationship, with a little bit of pandemic era angst thrown in
At the turn of a page (ao3) - Tarredion
Summary: Phil’s had his reasons for not continuing liveshows during lockdown, but they’re ready for a comeback—a domestic one, at that
dying for the knife. (ao3) - howdothestarslook
Summary: three times, at three different ages, that dan has thought about his life and his job.
Forfeit (ao3) - silentdescant
Summary: “Quarantine is just food and sex and not talking to another human being.”
“Living the dream,” Dan says, stretching his arms out and sighing with contentment like a cat in the sun.
Here’s some faves from my camera roll this year (ao3) - natigail
Summary: 1 birthday tweet. 4 photos. 4 domestic memories. 1 smiling Phil. 1 fond Dan.
I can't help falling in love with you (again) (ao3) - Findus26
Summary: It's 2020, the world is falling apart and Dan can't help thinking back to October 2009 when everything was new and exciting. Phil finds a way to recreate the feeling
"I'm sorry for asking" (ao3) - yikesola
Summary: There’s still a jolt of thrill in Phil’s gut whenever he remembers that he’s going to be an uncle.
A fic about babies and boundaries.
in the dark (ao3) - cityofphanchester
Summary: Phil wakes halfway. It’s impossible not to.
(a sleepless night, winter 2020)
Intended Distance (ao3) - yikesola
Summary: The beginning of lockdown, it was easy to be a little optimistic. To think maybe governments would facilitate that everyone could safely quarantine, that people would take this thing seriously, that a short inconvenience would save lives and soon things would go back to normal. That optimism didn’t last too long. Unlike the lockdown which seemed to go on and on.
A fic about space and proximity.
keep your brittle heart warm (ao3) - theloveofbees
Summary: this summer is strange. but its warm. and theres wine. and theres music. and maybe things will be okay.
kiss, tenderly so (ao3) - Tarredion
Summary: Dan's a lil tipsy during their 2020 NYE kiss
Lace and Wine (ao3) - cafephan
Summary: Daniel Howell decided to break the internet, and all it took was a little bit of lace.
nineteenth october (2020 remix) (ao3) - snsk
Summary: The morning dawned cool and inevitable.
partner in crime (ao3) - blossomsphan
Summary: a lightless basement apartment, sometime in 2020. dan muses on labels and dedications.
Prize (ao3) - cafephan
Summary: Phil’s first quiz was a huge success, and Dan is there to congratulate him.
But, he may be a tiny bit bitter that Phil wouldn’t let him try for a prize.
Pyjama week (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)
Summary: An unhinged recount of Pyjama week 2020 inside Phil’s mind.
quiet moment of pride (ao3) - natigail
Summary: It's difficult to breathe lately with the current state of the world. It's vital to help how you can, but it's also important to look after yourself. Phil reminds Dan to breathe.
rip the plaster (ao3) - theloveofbees
Summary: dan isn't sure if things are moving too fast or too slow. nothing is going according to plan. he doesn't know what he's doing. but maybe it's time to just rip the plaster.
silence (ao3) - danhoweiis
Summary: they were used to silences between them and after years of living together and being in each other's space they knew what particular silences meant
Since We've No Place to Go (ao3) - tellsfromhale
Summary: Christmas 2020 is unlike any that's come before and (hopefully) any that will come after. Dan and Phil have to learn how to adjust to the year as it comes.
Stroking Hair (ao3) - yikesola
Summary: “I’m glad this grew out,” Dan tugs on the hair in his hand. Phil yips and slaps Dan away.
A ficlet about feeling and enjoyment.
the bonus prize (ao3) - natigail
Summary: Dan asks for a bonus prize.
Phil is willing to give him whatever he wants.
But that isn't exactly a new development.
The three times it was a one off and the one time it was forever (ao3) - KirstieVic
Summary: 2014, 2016 and 2018 it's a one off.
Then 2020 during lockdown, it's forever.
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